Twenty-Nine

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

☠ Chapter Twenty-Nine ☠

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ARIELLE'S POV

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I let my feet dangle to the ground, the height of the bed causing my toes to barely brush the carpeting. I run my fingers through my hair, which feels like a disaster, so I decide it's best to take a shower.

When I look at the clock displayed atop the side table it reads twenty after eleven. Zayn's still fast asleep and I watch as he sleepily pulls the blankets over his face, successfully covering his eyes from the sunlight that's streaming in from the windows.

Standing from the bed, I pick up my discarded clothing from last night, tossing the ripped panties into the garbage. I put the bra into my luggage, grabbing fresh clothes to change into after my shower. As I glance at my reflection in the mirror, I was right, I look like a mess—I have sex hair.

Quietly, I make my way over to Zayn. His hair is a ruffled mess, just like mine, but somehow, he still looks perfect. I love this man that's lying here with his body strewn about on the mattress and his eyes shielded from the morning. How could I not be happy when every time I see him, I feel butterflies?

I could watch him sleep for a single minute and find a hundred things I love about him. Everything from the way he sleepily mumbles when the sunlight hits his face, to the way his eyelashes flicker when he's dreaming. However, I think one of my favourite things is when he rolls over, opens his eyes and calls out to me in his husky morning voice. There aren't quite words to ever explain exactly how he makes me feel or what he's become to me. Being in love with Zayn feels exquisite.

Checking that he's still sleeping, I tuck him into the sheets to ensure that he's warm and comfortable. Before entering the bathroom, I close the curtains to confirm that he has darkness to sleep in.

As I make my way back to the shower, I hear two vibrations come from Zayn's phone, which is resting on the dresser near the bathroom, just like yesterday. Out of habit, I check it to find that it's locked, but a few messages and missed calls are displayed on the screen.

Langley: It's not that easy, bro

Langley: Where the fuck are u? We need to meet up

Langley: Malik u can't just say that shit then hang up on me. Fucking return my calls

Who's Langley? He's called Zayn six times since early this morning. Zayn stirs in his sleep and it causes me to panic, so I place the phone back on the dresser quickly and scurry into the bathroom, hopping into the shower.

I grab the provided shampoo and begin to lather my hair as I start to think about things. Who the hell is Langley? I try to remember if I've ever met a man named Langley. However, as I think back, I realize that I've never really met anyone that Zayn associates with. I've met Nyjah, and Drew, Snow, Kit—even thinking her name makes me roll my eyes—and that other guy, Ryder. I've never met someone named Langley, so who is he? And why's he incessantly calling Zayn? What are they meeting up for?

Supersonic | Zayn Malik | AU |Where stories live. Discover now