The Right Direction (Zayn Malik)

He Who Shall Not Be Named

I laid back onto the bed, stretching my arms and curling my toes in exhaustion. You'd be tired too if you just spent the last hour unpacking. I didn't bring a lot of clothes, (because Liam promised he'd take me shopping here in L.A.), but I sure was one heck of a procrastinator.

After I'd arrived, the rest of the afternoon had gone by smoothly. Other than playful fighting coming from the boys, everything seemed to be in place. I hadn't talked to he-who-shall-not-be-named after our incident in the car, and in all honesty, I wasn't planning on talking to him for the rest of my trip.

I'm probably over exaggerating by referring to him as he-who-shall-not-be-named. It's like he's Voldemort or something. While him and Voldemort do have similar traits, such as their disturbing thoughts and violent behaviors, you could never compare Zayn (crap, I said his name!) to Voldemort.

Zayn had mesmerizing almond shaped eyes. Voldemort had black holes. Zayn's luscious hair could stand at five centimeters high. Voldemort was bald. Zayn had a nose that was designed for the camera. Voldemort had. . . well, I don't even think Voldemort has a nose.

(A/N: I'm writing this on my iTouch. For all of you Harry Potter fanatics, Voldemort is considered as a word. Mind you, Zayn is underlined in red because it 'isn't.' Nice one, Apple, LOL!)

Wait a minute. Did I really just think all of those nice things about Zayn? It's not that I hate him, it's just that, well-- let's put it this way. If Zayn was on fire and I had a glass of water, I would drink the glass of water. Does that sound mean? Good. It was supposed to. If you couldn't already tell, I'm not very fond of people who threaten me.

A sudden knock on my door made me position myself into a sitting position. "Come in," I called out. I suddenly regretted my choice of words. I should have asked who it was before I invited them inside. What if it's Zayn? My eyes darted around the room in a quick attempt to plan out a quick explain.

I sound really paranoid right now. But when you're dealing with people like him, it's best to be on guard. It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, isn't it?

My breathing steadied when I realized it was only Liam standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he smiled. "Am I interrupting anything?"

I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Of course not." I assured him. "I'll always have time for you."

"Do you think you can squeeze in the boys too?" He said. "We were thinking about going out to eat tonight for dinner."

My eyes widened in excitement. I could go for some pasta right now. "Sounds good." I agreed. "When are we leaving?"

"Plus, we're dining at your favorite kind of restaurant." Liam added.

"Italian?"

"Yup!"

"Now I remember why we're related." I teased.

He chuckled, opening the door and stepping out of my room. Before exiting, he quickly called over his head, "be ready in five." I was already dressed, so I decided to grab my denim and lace vest and put on a few accessories. I followed Liam out of the doorway and met up with Louis and Niall who were in the living area.

Niall was in the middle of telling an interesting story, which I had trouble understanding because he was speaking very fast. Louis just nodded his head, pretending to understand like I was. At the end of the story, Niall's face widened, as he looked from Louis to me. I glanced at Louis from the corner of my eye, and he just simply shrugged.

I'm guessing we're supposed to laugh? The two of us began laughing hysterically, thinking Niall had just told us the punch-line of a joke or something, but instantly stopped when his face became serious. "Why are you laughing?" He asked.