Stripped (a Zayn Malik Fanfic)

Memories

"How long before we start seeing them?" I slurred, mildly disappointed at the uneventful night sky and taking a hearty swig from the whiskey. The liquor seared a burning path down my throat and I scrunched up my face at the unpleasant taste, happily passing it back to Zayn and watching in awe as he glugged back a quarter of the bottle with ease. 

"Not long." Zayn assured me drunkenly, wiping his lips on his sleeve and leaning backwards in order to take a better look at the sky for himself. Leaning too far however, Zayn toppled backwards, his legs over his head and the whiskey flinging from his grasp. 

"No!" I screeched, watching as the whiskey bottle landed on the ground with a dull thud, its golden brown contents pumping out into the grass. 

"Argh!" Zayn cried out in drunken distress, his still caught up in the chains and the whiskey was long forgotten in my mind. "I'm coming, I'm coming." I snorted in hysterics, hobbling over to him and working to untangle his feet. "Stop squirming." I demanded, clamping down on my lip in an attempt to suppress my laughter. 

"It's not funny," Zayn whined childishly, a silly grin appearing on his face. "I could've been killed!" He exclaimed just as I had succeeded in freeing him from the swing's clutches. Zayn fell to the ground in a heap, a low groan emerging from the back of his throat. Opening his warm brown eyes, he stared up at me helplessly. With a shake of my head, I extended my hand and heaved him upwards. Zayn leaned on me heavily, the whiskey clearly having gone directly to his head. "Well that settles it, we're both utterly pissed." I noted. 

"Right, we're in no condition to be operating those." Zayn glared at the swings, his pink lips cracking into a crooked grin. 

"You mean you're in no condition." I teased, freezing in place when Zayn's gaze shifted to mine. My heart began to gallop when he reached for my hair, his dark eyes screwed up in concentration. He pulled his hand back a moment later, having retrieved something. "Leaf." He explained with a smile, tossing it into the grass. 

Swallowing hard, I changed the subject in an attempt to mask my disappointment. "I bet we'd have a better view from there." I said, pointing towards the hillside. 

Zayn nodded, a gleam in his dark eyes. "You're probably right," He noted with a grin, leaning forward so that his breath tickled my ear. "Race you there." He whispered, and with that he shot off, leaving me dashing after him in a fit of laughter. 

"Zayn!" I called after him, yelping when a few steps away from the hillside, my foot caught on a root and I went flying face first. Smacking the ground, I let out a low moan. Noticing I was no longer behind him, Zayn froze mid-step, letting out a howl of laughter and trotting back towards me. 

"Are you quite alright?" Zayn inquired, looking down at me from above. "Sorry to dash your hopes Karim, but I don't think you'll be making the track team next year." He laughed, heaving me upwards and collapsing on the soft bed of grass just below the hill. 

"Shut up." I said, my face reddening. Arms wrapped protectively around myself, I perched next to Zayn, shuddering when the damp grass began to soak through my jeans. 

We sat in comfortable silence for some time, no sound coming from either of us except for soft breaths. Zayn was the first to speak. "That book you're reading all the time, what's it called again?" He inquired casually. 

I turned to Zayn in minor astonishment, surprised he had even noticed. In the darkness, I observed his perfect profile, chiseled as if from marble. "Wuthering Heights. And I do read other books too, you know." I smiled coyly. 

Zayn shook his head. "I know you do, but what makes you read that one over and over again?" He turned to me, his dark eyes studying my face. A warm breeze rustled the branches of a nearby tree, a shower of leaves that were slowly succumbing to the autumn, filtering past us.