Strings and Schemes

Chapter 35

The first thing I feel is warmth.

The second is Zayn.

His fingers trace slow, lazy circles along my back, his body pressed against mine beneath the sheets. I shift, stretching slightly, and his hand stills, pressing me closer.

"You're awake," he murmurs, voice rough from sleep.

"Mmhmm," I hum against the pillow, not quite ready to open my eyes. I don't want to return to reality yet, to the weight of last night.

Zayn shifts, propping himself up on his elbow, watching me. I can feel it, even without looking.

"You're not running away from talking about it, are you?"

I sigh, finally blinking up at him. Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting golden light across his bare chest, his inked skin looking impossibly warm.

"It's too early for that," I say, voice scratchy with sleep.

His fingers trail up my arm, his touch light but deliberate. "Rai," he says softly. "Your dad wasn't just being an overprotective prick last night. That felt like a warning."

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. "It's politics," I say after a beat. "He doesn't trust people who don't fit into his mold."

Zayn exhales through his nose, clearly unconvinced. "You really grew up with that kind of pressure, huh?"

I force a small smirk, trying to lighten the mood. "Pressure's the only constant in my life."

He studies me for a long moment before pressing a kiss to my shoulder. His lips linger, like he wants to say something else. But he doesn't push. He just stays there, breathing me in.

For a while, we don't speak. We just exist in this space, where nothing outside this room matters.

But then—

A loud knock at the door shatters the peace.

"Rise and shine, lovers!"

I groan into the pillow. "God help me."

Zayn chuckles, rolling out of bed. "That would be Louis and Liam."

"Wonderful," I mutter as I grab Zayn's shirt off the floor and throw it on before heading toward the door.

Louis and Liam stroll in like they own the place.

Louis is already making himself at home, perching on the kitchen counter like an overgrown child. Liam, ever the reasonable one, sets a bag of pastries down before glancing between me and Zayn.

"You two look..." He pauses, searching for the word.

"Well-fucked," Louis supplies cheerfully.

I shoot him a glare as I grab a coffee mug. "I see we're skipping pleasantries this morning."

Zayn, now standing behind me, wraps his arms around my waist and presses a lazy kiss against the side of my neck. "They don't know what pleasantries are."

Louis gasps, hand over his heart. "The betrayal."

Liam, ignoring the nonsense, pours himself coffee. "So, how was dinner?"

Zayn dramatically sighs. "Let's just say, I'm surprised I made it out alive."

I roll my eyes. "It wasn't that bad."

Louis wiggles his eyebrows. "No bloodshed, no classified information leaked, no scandals? Sounds like a win."

Zayn smirks, but there's something thoughtful behind it. He glances at me, then shakes his head. "Yeah. A win."