Someone Different [Zayn Malik Romance]

8. Strictly Business

                I woke up from something underneath me moving, and the second I crinkled my brow, it froze. Confused, I forced myself to come deeper out of sleep and flutter my eyes open, reluctantly looking down to see two bright brown orbs looking back at me. Almost instinctively, I smiled lazily and shut my eyes again, lying my head back down on whatever was underneath me.

                But then I realized I had looked into Zayn's eyes, and that I was smelling his intoxicating scent; because I was lying in his bed, on top of him. My eyes flied open and I smiled somewhat sheepishly, rolling off of him and composing myself quickly. Glancing down, I saw I was in his clothes, and tried to pull the blanket to cover more of my legs.

                "Uh, sorry," I muttered, wanting to crawl into a corner and hide forever.

                To my surprise, he grinned. "I'm the one that kidnapped you, remember? Don't apologize. I should be apologizing for being all... you know, when I'm drunk."

                All lovey.

                I forced a smile, and a laugh. It was hard. "Yeah, I understand. It's okay."

                He didn't look all that comfortable suddenly, either. "Do you want a ride home?"

                "No, I can get a cab." I said, standing up and quickly picking up my clothes – I hated the fact I was in his, that I was so upset about how he wanted me to leave, and how he just didn't care.

                Zayn got up this time. "I'll give you a ride. You don't have to–"

                I looked up at him. "Where's your bathroom?"

                "Over there..." He said skeptically.

                I went inside and shut the door, changed, ran my fingers through my hair, and stepped out. Shoving his clothes into his arms, I smiled at him, assuring him that I'd be fine. He didn't need to do me any favors – after all, it wasn't like he actually liked me... it wasn't like that I actually made him happy. Niall was wrong. He didn't care.

                So I said goodbye quickly and walked out of his bedroom, towards his front door. As my hand yanked it open, I heard him call my name, and turned around to see him standing beside his bedroom door. His hair was disheveled, he was tugging on a shirt, and his eyes were clouded and confused. He looked perfect, really.

                "Are you... Perrie, did I do something...?" He questioned.

                I grounded my teeth; my name was not Perrie. "Nope, nothing at all. I'll talk to you later. Bye, Zayn."

                And then I shut his door, feeling like someone had just slapped me across the face.

~*~

                "Le," Jem said, sitting on the edge of my bed at dad's house. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been in here all day."

                I looked up from my laptop and nodded. "Yeah. Just a little tired."

                He rolled his eyes: "That's the lamest excuse yet. Try again."

                "I have a headache?" I tried.

                My brother clicked his tongue. "That won't do it, either."

                "Jem, just leave me alone," I groaned, throwing my head back into my pillow. "I don't like people right now, especially not boys."