Strings and Schemes

Chapter 5

"So, I guess the question remains..." I start, "Are you going to make it worth my while? Considering you've been scheming for a full season?"

We get back to Zayn's relatively quickly, and he takes our jackets, hanging them in his closet. I admire the fact that he is a single-man living on his own, with some sort of organization system. Not too many 20 something year olds even bother to hang their own jacket, let alone seem to have a system for seasonal wear in their entry closet. He delicately places the hangers back on the rack and just as I try to bend over to unlace my shoes, Louis takes the right foot and unlaces it for me. Zayn turns, eyeing the opportunity no doubt, and starts untying the left shoe. Making sure he caresses my ankle and calf as he goes about the process. Louis, ever competitive, and feeling like he probably has something to prove starts doing the same. The back of his hands ever so gently touching the inside of my calves, trailing their way up higher and high. If not for the jeans, I think I'd be royally fucked right about now.

Both Louis and Zayn look up at me at the same time and if there was a moment to self-combust, it would be now. I try my best to stifle my sighs, but both men grin at me proud of their accomplishments so far. If this is an image of what's to come, I'm not sure I've ever seen anything better. I feel myself flush at how exposed I feel, but also how exhilarated I am at the whole idea of two men, fawning over me.

We take the long hallway up to the main level of Zayn's flat, and I stop along the way ogling the artwork. He truly has impeccable taste when it comes to art. I teasingly make him tell me about each piece as I choose my victim for teasing each time. Slowly backing my way up to Louis arms, and holding them around my waist, tantalizing him with my feather light touches on his patchwork tattooed arms while Zayn tells us the story of however he found this piece. I can feel Louis' irritation growing as I continue my game up the hallway. But I know he loves the chase, and that even though we've been sleeping together for close to a decade he loves that I never make him feel like it's a guarantee.

We stop at the last piece of art on the stairs to the main floor, and it stops me dead in my tracks. It's stunning, truly. A piece of art that makes you think deeply about the world around you, the painting is of a woman in tribal wear, in the centre of a saharan landscape, with animals all around, while men fight needlessly around her, ignoring her as the true leader and power and taking each other out one-by-one. If that isn't a commentary on patriarchy, I don't know what is. I tear up ever-so-slightly as Zayn explains the piece, but the explanation isn't needed, as I look at him directly and he sees how the piece has impacted me. He smiles as he approaches me, as Louis names all the animals,

"OH a rhino! And a Lionness! And an advark..." he trails on, but I hardly notice as Zayn grabs my waist gently and kisses me, in the kind of way that stops time. The kind of kiss that makes you want time to stop for just a moment so you can savour it for just one instance longer. I can hear Louis in the background, but it's nothing compared to the electric feeling of Zayn's hand on my waste, his lips on mine, the shared understanding of art.

Hedonism, who?

We get to the main floor of the flat and it has the perfect view of the London skyline, something I never could get sick of or take for granted. When my parents stop serving, or when I'm done college, I know I'll stay in this city. Londontown is a part of me, more than anywhere else and I can never not appreciate its beauty, and its harshness.

Zayn heads towards the bar area and sets up the ingredients to make a riff off an old fashioned, my favourite. While Louis pats the spot next to him on the 70s style couch; I sit, curling my legs under me, and digging my slightly cold toes under his warm legs. Louis puts his arm around the back of the couch and starts playing with my hair, pulling ever so slightly on the loose threads in such a delicious way. I hum at the feeling and look drunk from pleasure at my best friend.