Different Sides Of Us (Sequel to Hired For Malik)

Chapter Twenty Eight

Lindsay's Point Of View

The definition of guilt is funny. It is an emotion that occurs when a person believes that they have violated a moral standard that they themselves believe in. It's not a noun, adjective, adverb, none of those things you might have learned in english class. But an emotion in which only you, yourself, can feel. It's gut wrenching; it's an absolute curse sent down from God himself. The reason for this feeling, is our mistakes we make. We're human, and it's natural to do so. Everyone is perfectly imperfect.

And in my life, it seems I've made a lot of those mistakes myself. More than I can count probably. Everything with the first four boys had ran so smoothly, seamlessly, that I anticipated the same from Zayn. That was my first mistake of the night. Expecting something opposite of what was actually going to happen.

After Liam left, I could hear my heart pumping loudly in my chest when Zayn walked in. I was actually afraid if he could hear it as well. My palms are wet with persperation and my lips begin quivering as I speak. 

"Are you ready to begin?" His reaction lets me conclude that he didn't notice the shaking in my voice as I spoke. Why I was so nervous was a mystery. There was no reasonable explanation why I was acting so strangely. 

The other outfits that had been fitted already were hanging in my closet in dark, black bags. Except the shoes actually. I trusted the boys to bring the exact shoes I specifically told them to buy. Knowing Louis and Niall, it was never bound to happen. Which is the exact reason why I informed Paul this morning.

Grabbing Zayn's bag in my hands, my fingers grasped around the first material they touched. Tossing the item at him, he proceeded to take off his shirt. Reaching behind his head, he peeled the layer of clothing off and threw it off to the side. My eyes wandered slightly down to his toned chest. The tattoos complimenting his body in every way possible. His skin seemed to be almost glowing.

He cleared his throat, my eyes adverting back up to his gaze. His eyebrows were perched up, a smirk plastered over his face showing that he had caught me. 

"Save it, Malik." I rolled my eyes playfully, before I skipped over to him and began stitching up the sides of the shirt. He stood perfectly still for me as I threaded the needle in and out to fit his shape. It was only a white tank top, so my fingers flew by quickly before I asked him to try on a different garment. A plain black and red plaid cardigan I had found while I was walking the busy streets of L.A. happened to catch my eye. Seeing Zayn in it, I was glad I bought it when I did. 

"You can go ahead and take it all off now," I said after I rolled up the sleeves to see how everything looked. "All I really need to do is get you fitted for the jeans and you'll be done!" I breathed out excitedly, clapping my hands together like a seal. 

Turning around, I fumbled with the jeans. Once giving them to him, I spun back around so I could avoid the million dollar winning smirk I would surely see if he happened to catch me again. All I had to do was to hem the bottom of the jeans. If the pants were too long or too short, it would throw the whole picture off.

"Ready!" He sung loudly, directly in my ear. I jumped up, scared of how close he was. His body was less than a foot away from mine. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he breathed down on my neck. At first, my instinct was to move away as quickly as possible. But my feet weren't responding. He knocked the wind out of me.

Why was I acting like this? I was fucking engaged for crying out loud. This is wrong, and I don't even like Zayn like this! He's engaged as am I!

Pushing myself away fro him, I turned around and gave him a small smile. My eyes fixated on his hips, his v-line prominent. Forcing my eyes to look away, I bent down and grabbed his ankles. He was motionless ever since I moved away from him. What I wouldn't give to know what was going on in his mind right now...