Paranoia (Zayn Malik) (editing)

Chapter 17: Schools In

Zayn's POV

The energy is different when Luna walks into the kitchen these mornings. She doesn't walk in without noticing my eyes being stuck on her every move, no, she knows I am raptly studying her. Desperately noting every move her body makes.

"Morning." She smiles, voice low and shoulders back, her long neck on show thanks to her curls being pulled back into a ponytail.

"Good morning."

My eyes follow her as she reaches for a bowl, as she always does, the cycling shorts she wears cling to the curve of her bum. She leans forward, bending over the counter and pressing her weight into her forearms against the marble, scrolling on her phone. I look away, I don't want to assume the moment she shows some skin that it's for my benefit.

Our dynamic has shifted, obviously. She has more power over me now than I care to admit. She could have me on my knees in seconds, figuratively and literally.

Seeing her bent over the sofa, skirt hiked up to her waist and red thong hooked over her ass cheek while she moaned like that at only my fingers, triggered something in my brain. So soon, I am longing to be engulfed in her after one date, one fucking date. The intimacy I feel for this woman, while not new to me, is different in a way I didn't expect. I have had feelings for women before, but Luna makes me feel like I can't feel anything else but the way I do about her. But I don't want to overwhelm her, move too fast. We are moving at her pace, strictly.

She turns to me, the empty bowl in her hands "You know, I've had the same breakfast every day since I got here."

"A creature of habit." I conclude, watching the way her lips part when she moves and imaging pushing my finger past them again.

"But that's the point, nothing is the same since I got here." Her dark eyebrows furrow.

"If you want new cereal, all you have to do is ask."

She pouts at me "I just, I don't know, I feel like I should feel different? Be different?"

"How so?"

She shifts her weight, leaning onto the island in front of me, breasts spilling out of her low cut tank top. I try not to focus on them, looking up to her ocean blue eyes.

"I was moved out of my childhood home by a complete stranger, found out everything I knew was a lie, that there are literal supernatural beings walking amongst us, and then let one of them finger me on a sofa." She shrugs, I feel blood rush to my crotch at the mention of her on that sofa, the scene is forever burned into my mind "So much has changed, and here I am still eating the same cereal I've eaten my whole life."

"Are you expressing regret? You wish you didn't find out?"

My question is valid but somewhat self motivated. Do you regret me? is what I really want to ask.

"No reading my mind to find out?"

"No, I'm promising to stop doing that."

"I don't regret finding out the truth." She shakes her head "And I think the problem is that I want more change, I want to feel different from how I've always been."

"I think you're different." I shrug.

"Really?"

"I think you're less internal." I explain "Like you've let yourself settle." 

"Settle?"

"You're not so on edge, it's made more room for you to be yourself."

A lazy smile spreads across her face and warmth radiates through my chest at the sight of it.