I was running through a house, the flames that engulfed it illuminating the night sky. My throat felt clogged, the smoke becoming too dense for my lungs to handle. I ran, room to room, throwing open doors and checking to see who was in each one. Each space I found unoccupied until I got to a room at the end of a hall. Heaving the planks aside, I stepped in and was greeted by a horrific sight.
The five bodies of Liam, Louis, Niall, Harry, and Zayn lay in a pile, fire flickering on their physiques and burning them. One by one, their agonizing screams silenced, their eyes flickering shut. I shrieked, tearing towards them and tried to blow out the flames unsuccessfully. Soon, my air was cut off, my lungs finally giving out. I collapsed on the floor, face to face with Zayn, whose eyes remained open.
“Why did you let us die, Lauren?” he rasped, smoke billowing out of his mouth. His hair burst into flames, causing his skin to melt off and exposing his skeleton. My mouth let out a bloodcurdling scream and I shot up from my spot on the ground, my eyes shooting open. But I wasn’t in a burning building.
I was sitting up in a bed, a warm body lying next to mine. Hot tears streamed down my face and the horrifying images of my dream flashed through my mind. I let out an emotional sob and felt someone sit up beside me.
“Lauren, what’s wrong?” Zayn exclaimed, embracing me with his bare arms. I didn’t respond; I just turned and cried into his toned chest, clad with a white tank top. After a few seconds of bawling, I lifted my face from his chest to look into his eyes, wiping my teary eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Zayn repeated, his face full of concern.
“My dream. You and all the boys were dead.” I choked out, fresh tears running down my cheeks at the thought of my nightmare. Zayn took his thumb and wiped my face, cleaning away every tear while whispering comforting words. Once he was done, he brought me into a hug, laying my head on his shoulder. I let out a shuddering breath, calming down but staying in Zayn’s arms. In his arms, I felt as though nothing bad could happen; that nothing could hurt us.
We had only been privately dating for three weeks now, but I’ve already felt more comfortable with him than any of my other boyfriends. Many nights we had stayed up for hours, just talking until we fell asleep, whether it’s on the phone or after a quiet night in. Armani liked to jump into the bed with us and snuggle up to Zayn's or my chest, keeping a steady rhythm with her quick little breaths. We could talk about anything, like fame, family, and past partners. I felt as if I could share everything and not hold anything back. He knew that I was still a virgin and appreciated the fact that I wanted to save myself for the one I truly loved.
“Are you alright now, babe?” Zayn whispered, giving my shoulder a squeeze before pulling me back to face him. I nodded, leaning in to give him a short kiss on his lips. After tasting his intoxicating flavor, I wanted desperately to go back for more, but I held off because it was 4am. Lying back down in Zayn’s bed, I cuddled up to his chest while he wrapped his arms around my waist. Listening to the steady beat of his heart slowly lulled me to sleep and I drifted into a calm state of oblivion.
After four more hours of sleep, I was roused by the absence of warmth next to me. Wearily opening my eyes, I glanced around the room, finding both it and the bed empty. I sat up, running my hands through my hair and over my eyes, while wondering where Zayn had gone. My question was answered when he stepped out of the bathroom drying his dripping black hair with a small towel. The only other thing he was wearing was a white towel wrapped around his waist.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.” Zayn told me, walking over to the closet to get clothes. “I have an interview in twenty minutes, but you can go back to sleep and we could have lunch after, yeah?” he suggested.
