Back To Life (Zayn Malik Fanfic)

chapter eleven

Mia's POV 

Remember my visualization of Zayn's yacht? Yeah, it was everything i had expected and more. The twinkling lights sparkled under the moonlight and soft melodies filling the air upon my arrival. I gaze at my outfit, the thought of being under dressed raced through my mind. 

He's dressed for an anniversary date, and here i am looking like i'm about to go to the grocery store. Although my heart was tugged at the idea of him doing this for me, my mind is telling me to push those emotions deep down and lock it in a chest. That's what i did. 

"I think I went a little overboard," Zayn said, his gaze filled with concern as he looked down at me. I chuckled and replied, "It's perfect."He gently placed his hands on my hips, steadying me as we walked across the steel bridge. His fingers lightly brushed my skin, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.

Zayn gave me a quick tour of his yacht, starting on the lower deck. He opened a door, revealing a made bed and a flickering vanilla candle on the dresser. The vanilla scent filled my lungs as my gaze darted to the bed, and I imagined the events that would likely unfold later that night.

As if sensing my thoughts, Zayn slowly intertwined his fingers with mine, his thumb gently rubbing circles against my skin. I closed my eyes, feeling electricity course through my veins at his touch. I faced him, taking in his scent of mint and jasmine. He placed his thumb on my chin and his pointer finger beneath it, tilting my head up to meet his dark, sensual gaze.

His gaze flickered down to my eyes, then to my lips. He leaned in close, his bottom lip barely brushing mine, teasing me. We exchanged breaths as I contemplated lifting up on my toes to kiss him, but I hesitated. I felt him smile between our lips as he whispered, "Dinner first, sex later." 

My cheeks flushed as Zayn strode towards the door, leading to the top deck. Through the doorway, I glimpsed a control room overlooking the bow and a kitchen where two private chefs were cooking.

Zayn nodded to them, and they returned the gesture. My gaze drifted to the open deck beyond the control room, where a table with a white tablecloth and two chairs awaited us.

I released his hand and approached the table, Zayn's footsteps following close behind. The wind caressed my shoulders as I inhaled the salty scent of the ocean, feeling at peace. A single yellow poppy bloomed in a small glass vase, centered on the table.

Yellow poppies, they represent happiness, friendship and new beginnings.

As Zayn gestured me towards the chair, my mind flashed back to his question about which flower we would be compared to. The memory on the beach. I sat down as he pushed my chair in and took his seat across from me.

Is this even real? The yacht, Zayn looking gorgeous, the private chefs ...  Amanda had told me that English men are hopeless romantics, but I never imagined Zayn would be this romantic. This is something a man would do only if he's ... he's in love. Oh no, please don't say flower. Don't tell me you love me. I'm not ready for this. Breathe. Breathe.

A violent cough erupted from my lips, and I quickly covered my mouth with my arm. Embarrassment flushed my cheeks as I fumbled for my inhaler in my bag. I could feel Zayn's eyes on me as I raised the inhaler to my lips and inhaled the medication.

When I met his gaze, his eyebrows furrowed, and his head tilted slightly. Concern filled his brown eyes. "Seasonal allergies," I explained with a forced chuckle, replacing the inhaler in my bag.

As the chefs emerged with our dinner, Zayn's gaze remained locked on mine. His hair danced in the breeze, and my palms grew clammy. I attempted to wipe them on my jeans, but my nerves betrayed me.