Stripped (a Zayn Malik Fanfic)

Memories

I glanced away, vulnerable under Zayn's intense gaze. "I see a lot of myself in it, I suppose." I answered quietly, leaving out half of what I wanted to say. And I see a lot of you in it as well, a voice in the corner of my mind lulled mellifluously. 

Zayn nodded along in silence, his brows pulling together in thought. "Maybe I'll give it a try some day." He contemplated, a touch of uncertainty in his voice. 

My heart sped up at the idea alone of Zayn reading my most favourite book, and I wondered whether he would see Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff in us, as I had. "I didn't know you could read." I teased him with a gentle shove, observing each detail of his face and not caring whether I was caught. 

"Shut up." Zayn shoved me playfully, a sheepish smile on his lips. Putting his arms behind his head, Zayn leaned all the way back onto the grassy hill, continuing to peer up towards the heavens. Following suit, I stretched out onto the grass, facing towards Zayn instead of the sky. 

"Where do you think we'll be in a few years, Zayn?" I asked in a small voice, certain that my fear of what was most inevitable in this world –change –shone through each facet of my being then.   

Zayn turned to me, his dark irises refracting the moonlight. "Right here, where else?" He stated, as if he was answering the most simple of questions. 

And before I knew it, I was pressing a gentle kiss on Zayn's lips, all of myself, and everything I loved about him behind it. Zayn's lips were soft, tasting ever so slightly of whiskey. My joy was fleeting however, Zayn pulling back from my lips and gaping at me in astonishment. "What are you doing, Leila?" He said, letting out the same anxious laugh he did when he forgot his lines during a speech. 

My stomach plummeted through the ground. "I thought..." I trailed off with a whisper, the lump in my throat cutting my sentence short. It appeared I had thought wrong. 

Zayn continued to laugh, shaking his head and pulling himself up from the grass. "You're too drunk, I should get you home-" He began, shaking his head to himself. 

The same rush of determination I had felt when looking into the mirror earlier resurfaced, my voice quiet, but strong. "No Zayn, I've made up my mind. If I don't tell you this now, I might never." I implored. 

Zayn lifted his dark, panicked eyes to mine. "Tell me what?" He inquired so softly I could barely hear him. 

I stared at Zayn for a few moments, all of our memories as children ambushing me at once –twisting my ankle so badly that Zayn had to piggy-back me home, trading lunches under the willow tree, allowing him to cry into my lap when his aunt died and promising to never tell a soul he had been weak. Would it be worth it? To throw all of this away? If telling Zayn meant a future with him, even if only a chance of more; then yes, it was worth it. 

The words came out of my mouth like running water, yet gently, as if a stream. "For the longest time, I thought I was sure was sure of nothing –from what I wanted for breakfast to what I wanted to do with my life, I couldn't have told you even if I wanted to." I hesitated before continuing, Zayn's stormy gaze studying my face in silence. "But as time went on I realized there was one thing I never doubted, one thing I always certain of: you. It might have been for a day or years, or from the moment I met you even." I forced my gaze onto his. "Zayn, I'm in love with you." I whispered. 

Mouth agape in the darkness, Zayn simply blinked at me, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

"Say something." I begged him quietly. 

Zayn swallowed hard, snapping out of his trance. "This-this is the alcohol talking, Leila." He decided, failing to sound certain of himself by any measure. 

"It's not the alcohol talking, it's me." I assured him. 

Zayn began to shake his head. "You're my best friend." He stated quietly.

"And you're mine." I answered him simply, searching his eyes so deeply for something, anything at all. 

Zayn grew very still, gazing down into his lap. "I don't see you in that way, Leila." He told me softly. 

My chest began to ache, the cold finality of rejection rearing its head. "Why?" I grew angry. "You see all the other girls at school 'in that way', expect for me! What's wrong with me?" I demanded. 

Zayn's dark eyes drilled into mine. "There's nothing wrong with you, Leila." He told me passionately. 

It wasn't until tears began to trickle down my cheeks that I realized I was ashamed of myself –that I was undesirable, unwanted. I rose to my feet, blindly trekking down the hillside. Zayn bolted after me, latching onto my arm. 

"Leila, wait. Where did this all come from?" He asked me, panic rising in his voice. 

I pulled my arm from his grasp. "Somewhere I wish it hadn't. I'm going now, Zayn." I sniffed, reaching the leveled ground at last. With enough embarrassment to last a life-time, all I wanted was sleep. 

 Zayn let out a frustrated growl. "Leila, don't be like that, please." He pleaded, running a hand through his disheveled black hair. "At least let me walk you home." He said gently, his face wrought with concern. 

"I'm fine, Zayn, really." I assured him quietly, the knife in my heart twisting as I continued to stare at him, knowing once and for all that he didn't and would never love me back. "I'll see you at school, alright?" I told him and with one last departing glance, I started for home, leaving him standing in the middle of the field. 

"See you." Zayn called after me quietly, his voice fading into the distance. 

That Monday, I did not see Zayn in school. The next few days after that consisted of fleeting glances of him in the hallways, turning a corner or entering a classroom, like fragments from a dream. He began eating lunch in the parking lot, sitting on top of cars with the boys in our grade that he had never hung around with before. This went on for two weeks until one day I was running late to Maths. Taking a sharp right, I could hardly believe it when I saw Zayn near the end of the hallway. , Ambling towards me, his head was bent down at his mobile, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he typed a message. Looking up from his phone, Zayn saw me approaching and he nearly froze in place. His eyes met mine for a moment and then he shifted his gaze to the lockers lining the hallway. We passed each other silently, just as we continued to do when we crossed paths from then on. My heart ached, not only for the boy I loved but for the best friend I had ever had. After that, he disappeared all together, making me wonder if he had ever really existed in the first place.

The vibration of my mobile tugged me from my memories. Unearthing it from my pocket, I flipped it open, tears blurring my vision until I was able to make out the words 1 NEW TEXT MESSAGE. It had been sent from an unfamiliar number. In confusion, I opened it, expecting it to be Kitty or even Peaches notifying me of their new number. 

It read: 

I was wondering if I could get to know the real Leila tomorrow night?  – Harry x 

I stared at the message for some time, wondering whether it would be Leila or Bambi that replied to him.

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A/N: Thank you so much for checking out this chapter! I'll be doing a bit of reshuffling here and there when it comes to the next update, but I'm certain it will be on time! Will Leila go on a date with Harry? How will Zayn react if he finds out? These questions and more will be answered in: I Crave You. Please visit s.t.r.i.p.p.e.d.f.a.n.f.i.c.t.i.o.n.t/u/m/b/l/r.c/o/m (remove slashes and periods) for chapter outfits,  music featured in 'Stripped', and beautiful fanart submitted by readers like yourself! xx