Unconventional // z.m.

xi. A Change

Diamond has lost count of the number of hours she has spent laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling over the past two days. Every time she closes her eyes she can see Zayn's smile, hear his laugh, taste his lips. It's been almost three days, but every time she so much as thinks about it, no matter what she's in the middle of, she's unable to do anything except head to her room and lie down to relive every moment. It's odd to think that they've had sex two (and a half) times and yet they've only just had their first kiss - followed by many others. It's odd to think that Zayn has had his lips everywhere on her except her own. It's odd to think that she regrets not kissing him sooner, rules or no rules.

It's odd to think that she suddenly needs his kisses to breathe.

Zayn isn't as over Perrie as he thought.

He couldn't bring himself to even touch the cookbooks, let alone open and use them. But that's okay, because they dated for four years and were engaged for nearly two of those, and since he'd postponed his grieving for half a decade he can't be blamed for being a little hung up on her. After all, it's been less than a month, not even four weeks since he met Diamond - which is definitely not enough to get over somebody you considered spending the rest of your life with. It makes him think, though, that Diamond isn't the only who'd be going into their relationship with problems. All this time Zayn thought that Diamond's trust issues were the only reason they couldn't be together, and yet here he is, still not over his ex-fiancée.

But Zayn is still okay with that. He just needs time, and Diamond does, too.

He hums happily under his breath as he stirs the chicken and vegetables in the wok he hadn't even known he'd owned, repeating the lyrics he came up with yesterday. He only has the first verse and the chorus, but it's more than he's been able to come up with for a long time. Even now his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he thinks of five years before, announcing a solo career and signing a record deal that never amounted to anything. He wrote almost nothing in that time, released not even a single. It was shameful, and the media didn't hesitate to speculate that he'd bitten off more than he could chew when he'd left the band. It was as if he didn't know how to survive with the boys - not that they'd talked since then. The only way both parties know the other is well is through social media.

But now he's begun a song. A song he's actually happy with so far. And although One Direction wasn't his preferred style of music, he missed this. The feeling of creating something and being satisfied with it.

"Oh, we’re not," he sang, "In the same place... Show me in the same light."

The rice maker (and yes, Zayn knows that's cheating) dings when his rice is ready and he crosses the kitchen to switch it off and unplug it, still singing under his breath.

Feels right

When we take flight

Clothes off ‘cause she's so soft

He turns the stove off as he thinks the song over, wondering if he should perhaps sing it with somebody else, make it a duet. They could sing the verse, maybe. Somebody female, because Zayn would feel awkward singing this to a guy.

This ain’t a fair fight, yeah

I wanna shed light

On the subject

I'll get her wetter than ever

Four letters are never the question

Zayn's bottom lip reddens under the ministrations of his teeth, wondering if this song would be appropriate to play on the radio. Probably not, but he likes the idea of Diamond hearing it and realising it's about her. About her soft skin and their fùcked up situation and her sweet pùssy. He likes the idea of finally being able to express his feelings towards her without being shut down and reminded of irrelevant details like her job.

She likes when I’m messy

And I like when she’s undressed

Zayn misses her skin, her bare body. Despite his artistic inclinations he's managed to make his plated meal look a mess, like a hungry 7 year old who believes they're ready to serve themselves their own food. He sighs and pushes some stray rice into the rest of the pile using his fork. Despite the messy presentation, the food looks good - not anything like the picture on the website he got the recipe from, but decent.

His bare feet pad over to his sofa where he sits, plate, cutlery, and a beer in hand. He doesn't turn the TV on, however. There's enough going on his head already. Flashes of Diamond's body against this very leather, memories of sitting in this very same spot whilst she stripped to almost nothing before him. Maybe he was doing it wrong, he realised. They'd made more progress in the café, when all clothes were on and they didn't get very much past a few straying touches. He couldn't win her with sex, that was dumb. She had sex all the time, as much as it pained him to think about it. Even if she'd admitted that it had been different, he wasn't different enough. He'd been searching for her affection in the wrong place.

The plate clatters against the table as he puts it down a little too harshly, a few grains of rice escaping. He doesn't care. He has to find his notebook.

You’re looking in the wrong place for my love

Don’t think because you’re with me this is real

You’re looking in the wrong place for my love

Don’t stop what you're doing 'cause I like that too.