Malik's Stripper (Completed)

M's Stripper [19]

-Syreena-

Right there in the room was those pottery wheels people use to make vases out of clay. What the hell was this doing here in Zayn's flat? I glance around the room; nothing was there, just some sheets covering tables. There was a long full body length mirror in the corner of the room. I walk towards it and brush some of the dust with my fingertips. The mirror was very pretty, it looked like one of those enchanted mirrors you'd find in the Disney princess movies. What was this doing here then? It was too good looking to be here. I glance at my reflection and smile. I was actually wearing one of my shirts, not Zayn's. Wow, he actually kept it. The shirt was big though; it was huge and hung to my knees. I had no idea what time it was, but there was a window and the sky was dark.

I gaze at my reflection and from the mirror; I could see the pottery wheel. I turn around and walk towards it. My eyes search the room and I see a little stool. I grab it and bring it in front of the pottery wheel. I sit down and plainly stare at the thing. Art was never my thing, I sucked at it. I mean, I still draw stick fingers and they were terrible too. I spread my legs wide open and situated them at both sides of the pottery wheel. I find a button and press it and the bowl starts spinning around. I bring my hands closer, scared. What if my hands got sliced off? Still, I brought my hands closer and touched the brown lump of clay. My hands sliced the clay making a zig zagged shape. I give out a little giggle because the clay felt good on my hands. I let my palms touch the clay and soon a circle forms. I was doing it! I was actually making a vase. I smile to myself as my circle formed into a tall rounded vase, this was fun.

"I see you're doing well."

I stop, and glance at the mirror in front of me. Zayn was behind me, arms crossed, wearing a wicked smirk; and bare chested. My hands freeze and my vase collapses. I look down at my destroyed vase, now it was just a soft brown mush. I glare at Zayn from the mirror but he was just smiling at my back, which was exposed. I whip around and point a brown clay finger at him.

"You just ruined my vase!" I scream.

My only and maybe good art work was ruined because of Zayn Malik. Stupid douche. I turn around and sympathetically look at my clay.

"I'll help," Zayn offers and smiles at my reflection.

He grabs another stool and sits behind me, my back pressed against his hard chest. He puts both legs on the side like me, rests his head on my chin, and his arms go around me. I freeze at his touch, this felt so weird. His arms surround mine and before we knew it, were laughing as our hands made my vase again. Zayn was good; I mean within a few minutes, my vase was standing looking even taller.

"See," Zayn tells me, his breath ticking my neck. "It's done and it's much better than yours."

"Shut up," I say giggling.

I hear Zayn's deep throaty chuckle and we continue making our vase. A few seconds, I heard Zayn hum something.

"What are you singing?" I ask curious.

"Moments," Zayn says.

"Sing it for me," I tell him.

I felt Zayn's lips curve upwards and then he starts singing. It was a nice song, I've heard it but it was even better because Zayn was seductively whispering the words in my ear. I didn't know what was happening, but before I knew it, I felt Zayn running gentle kisses on the side of my neck. I lean my head back in pleasure and closing my eyes. Zayn was still singing the lyrics to Moments and our hands were still on the clay.

"Trembling hands touch skin...."

Zayn's hand was on my leg and he rubbed my thighs with his clay filled hands. His hands go up feeling my sides and then he tenderly rubs his hands up and down my arms; leaving clay behind. Zayn was still singing and all I wanted right now was to Zayn touch me. My head wasn't working properly and none of my senses were working. I was enjoying myself right now and I was sure, Zayn was too. Zayn was rubbing my back and I turn around to face him.

-Zayn-

Syreena turned around facing me, with passion written over her face. Both my hands were pressed on exposed back and it was filled with clay. I had no idea what I was doing, but I needed a distraction and right now, Syreena was my distraction. Syreena wraps her legs around my waist, making us even closer to each other. A smile spreads on Syreena's lips and her hands go up to my face. She cradles my face in her hands and her clay fingers stroke my face, from my jaw to my forehead. I close my eyes and sigh, it felt good. Right now, I wasn't feeling lust or any feeling at all. I was numb but Syreena's touch left a trail of fire behind. Her finger traces my lips and she leans closer, kissing them softly. She leans back, my hands supporting her back. She starts humming a tune and I recognized it, Moments. Her fingers trace my bare chest, and her finger lingers on my tattoo.

"My grandfather's name," I whisper.

She nods and her finger cascades downwards to my abs. I study her features. She was wearing no makeup yet, she still looked beautiful. The moonlight was shining on her face, bringing out the color of her eyes. She cocks her head to the side and a little smile comes on her lips.

"Your beautiful," Syreena speaks softly.

I smile as her compliment, she was beautiful too. More than she ever knew. I lean closer to her, her chest against mine, and I kiss her softly. She moans and pulls back. I look at her questionably and she had a deep blush on her cheeks. Was she blushing? Why was she blushing? She stares at me for a while and her fingers comb through my black hair. I was feeling something, I don't know what. It was a deep hurting and longing in my chest. I only had this pain whenever I touched her; I had no idea what it was. Syreena keeps stroking my hair with no expression on her face. I felt nervous, I don't know why, but I just did. I swallow hard and lick my lips.

"Zayn," Syreena croons.

She smiles at me and again pecks me on the lips. She pulls back and looks at me questionably.

"This is not like you Zayn," Syreena mutters.

This wasn't like me at all. I had no idea what was going on with me, but I didn't like it. I should be on in control, not her. She strokes my nose and the burning in my chest increases. Syreena sighs at the sight of my face and I take in a deep breath.

"Syreena," I begin.

"Hmm.."

My throat goes dry and I try again.

"Syreena," I repeat.

"Yes?"

"Syreena... I-I-" I start to stutter.

Syreena just gives me a look and I shake my head. Just say it, Zayn; and then maybe the feeling in the chest will go away.

"I-I..."

"Any day now," Syreena chuckles.

"Syreena, I love you."

There, I said it. Syreena's facial expression was the same, but her eyes, her eyes went wide, the iris went big. The pain in my chest stopped and I was glad. I breathe looking at Syreena, and she closes the distance between us. Her kiss was filled with something, passion? I kiss her back and I could feel Syreena's lip curve upward into a smile. We continue kissing each other, but I was distracted. My mind was playing the sentence over and over again, 'Syreena, I love you.' Did I really love her? Or was it out of the spur moment thing? I never felt love actually, I don't even know what love was, but right now having Syreena this close to me was all I needed.

A/N; Thank you so much to the people who have read this, BUT this book isn't over yet, so yay for that! Bye everyone!! <3<3 I love u!