A/N: It's not good at all. Sorry.
Driving to his house, I'm not sure what is going to happen there. It's around 5 right now. I don't know when his date is supposed to be.
My stomach drops. His date. I can't let him go on a date with her. She's perfect. Delilah is perfect and Zayn will see that and he will get over me the second he gets with her.
Clouds are setting in the sky, mocking what is going on in my mind. Everything is foggy and unclear. A storm of emotions seems inescapable after all that has happened recently.
I turn into Zayn's neighborhood and park opposite of his flat. I see one of his lights are on so I assume he is home. With the worst butterflies in my stomach, ones that almost sting like bees, I get out of my car and walk to his front door. I knock softly on the door, with a small piece of me hoping he won't hear it. A lot of me wants to see him now, but that small part wonders if any of this is morally right.
I jolt as Zayn swings the door open, making my heart rate double. Despite my anxiety, I force myself to focus into his eyes.
He slightly smiles at me, then tilts his head. His narrow eyes tell me he wasn't expecting me. But as I stand staring without words to say, his lips grow into a smile. He runs his hands through his hair that is not well kept, attempting to fix it. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips. He doesn't say anything, nor does he act like he is going to.
It's up to me to talk, I guess. I try to gather courage in me so that my voice does not shake when I speak. I blink once and look him directly into his eyes. "You're going out with Delilah tonight?" I ask.
His smile retreats, and his relaxed position leaning on the door stiffens. "In a couple of hours, yeah."
His hard eyes bore into mine, and I can almost feel him deducing the truths of my feelings. Regardless, I think of a way to intervene with the date. I need something to let me be here now.
I notice his choice of clothing- a muscle shirt and grey sweatpants. I'm not expecting him to go on a date in that. "I'll help you get ready," I say.
He furrows his brow and his mouth opens, but his words falter. I rush past him into the room so he can't deny me.
"Alright," I hear him say in defeat. The door shuts. "I won't be leaving for a couple hours, so we can just hang out for now." I turn to face him. He gives me a crooked smile, and he gestures to the living room with one hand, the other scratching the back of his head.
I nod. I throw my purse to the floor and move to the living room. I sit on the couch and breathe in the familiar atmosphere. The air fills me with anxiety as I recall what happened last time I was in this position with Zayn. I wonder if anything like that would happen tonight. Not with Delilah around.
"Are you okay?" He says while coming to sit down. The couch bounces as he takes the seat next to me.
He has asked me that a lot. "I'm fine," I lie under my breath. Zayn leans in a little and looks at me through narrow eyes, doubting me so obviously.
His staring makes me uncomfortable. I'm not going to get into Harry with him now. Or anytime soon, hopefully. My eyes dart to the man still staring heavily at me, and I grimace.
He immediately sits back and gives up on his question, which relieves me. Zayn turns on the television to a football game. He relaxes on the couch and watches the game, every now and then making disgruntled sounds when stupid plays are made. When I stir, just sitting up or sighing or whatever, he glances at me, but he does not ask or say anything. For close to an hour this goes on.
As the game comes to an end and the sun has set, I feel my worries growing stronger. Every second I sit here, I'm wasting my time not keeping him from Delilah. At the same time, thoughts of Harry flash through my mind and tell me I shouldn't be here. I exhale a deep breath heavily.
The television comes off. "Ok, I know you're not okay," Zayn says while putting his attention on me. "What's wrong?"
I touch my temple as his voice causes a headache to pulse. "I'd rather not get into it right now."
He turns his body to face me. "It's Harry, isn't it?" I hesitate, which tells him everything. "Of course," he says under his breath.
I internally sigh at how easily he reads me. I persist in the lie. "No, it's nothing." His usually easy eyes stare into me deeper, making me uncomfortable. He knows I'm lying, and it makes my heart race. I want to skip all of this conversation. "Just, let me help you get ready," I say.
I stand up and start to walk, and he reluctantly follows me. I take him to his bedroom which I find quite easily. I've never been in his bedroom before.
His room is clean, really clean. The thought of maybe it's spotless for Delilah passes through my mind, making me sick. I shudder.
"Cold?" He asks me.
"No," I say without any further explanation. I make him show me where his nice clothes are, to which he responds that all of his clothes are nice with an amused voice. I brush off his sarcasm, not really in the mood for any of his jokes. He points out his closet, and I dig through it.
While I look through the closet, burying my head in so I don't have to deal with Zayn, he waits a few feet away, anxiously checking what I am doing every few seconds. Like a kid. I almost tell him off, he is being so irritating. I feel his presence come behind me, and he lightly shoves my shoulder. I cringe up.
"Jess, I know something is wrong with you and Harry," he says.
I try so hard to ignore him. I find a grey button up shirt that I like and choose it for him. I pull it out of the closet and off its hanger. "Wear this," I say.
He pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor, leaving his chest bare. I am momentarily shocked by his quick response, but he acts normal. My eyes glance to his body in a way that I cannot say is inconspicuous. Along with the toned muscle itself, amazing tattoos on his skin stand out to me. I want to look at and understand all of them.
He follows my eyes to where I was staring and smirks at me. My cheeks start to burn, and I can feel my heart pound. I attempt to throw the shirt at Zayn's face to stop his smirk. He catches it before it hits him, causing his smile at me to grow. "Put it on," I say faintly. He looks at the shirt I gave him and then begins to do what I said. I take one last glance at his body as he pulls the shirt around his back and over his arms.
As he buttons up the shirt, I bury myself in his closet once again. I hate that he saw me staring at him. I feel like I want to hide in his closet until he leaves.
"You can't lie to me, you know," he says, continuing to bring up Harry. I roll my eyes. His voice is so earnest it's annoying. "Just tell me. You guys broke up, didn't you?"
My body freezes as he figures what happened. The only thing I can hear is the sound of my own shaky breaths, the rest of the room is silent.
Zayn takes a step closer as he notices my sudden shift of emotion. My head is swirling. I rush back to work, as he comes up to me. I pick out the closest pair of pants I find and I spin around shove them into Zayn's arm. "Put these on," I say. I pick up some nice shoes and give them to the confused boy as well. "And these. There."
He stares at me with a furrowed brow, but I don't worry much about his reactions. I try to focus on breathing normally. He says thank you quietly, then I leave his room as fast as I can. I don't need to see him change. I don't need to talk to him about Harry, either.
I sit on the couch in the living room and turn the television on. Whatever is on the TV passes over my head. All that goes through my mind is that Zayn is leaving for a beautiful girl in a few minutes, and there is nothing I can do about it. My foot taps furiously on the ground as I try to think of something to do. Something to stop him without appearing so needy.
My head jerks to the hallway as I hear his footsteps sounding closer. He walks into my sight in the sexiest outfit I've ever seen him in. Hair slicked back. Button up shirt with a blazer he added. Good addition. A slight smell of cologne drifts into the roll as he walks in.
He opens his arms towards me, as if asking me to judge him.
I spin away from him before I start to cry. All of this he did for Delilah. I cover my mouth with my hand to hide the soft sort of whimpers aching to come out of my mouth.
I hear him exhale and walk up behind me. He rests his hands on my shoulders. "I want you to stay here until I'm home," he says while rubbing his thumbs between my shoulders. "I'm not done talking to you about this. Promise me?"
I shut my eyes, praying he can't see the tear running down my cheek. He squeezes my shoulder, so I nod.
"Can you lock the door behind me?" he asks.
I nod again. His hand drops from my shoulder, and I hear the soft thumps of his footsteps travel to the door. I try to wipe away the tear quickly before following him.
Zayn watches me as I hop quickly to the door. He takes a step backwards outside. At this point, I would rather have him leave and let me cry than have him stay any longer. "Have fun with Delilah," I say as I herd him outside.
I try to close the door, but he catches it with his foot. "You promised," he says with raised eyebrows. He glares at me until I confirm his words. I nod, even though his worry makes no sense to me. He drops his stare and says goodbye quietly before I shut the door.
I drag myself to the couch and sink into it again. I watch with deep breaths as Zayn starts his car and leaves the complex, on his way to go meet with Delilah.
I start to cry for the second time today. I've lost two boys in one day. Both mostly because of my selfishness. It's the worst feeling I've had. Those pains I felt earlier returned. Those heartbreak feelings I had described. But now with the second love lost, the pain doubles.
I am sobbing. I don't try to control myself. Any makeup I was wearing, I let it run. I lay on the couch hugging a pillow against my chest and face, trembling with every sob.
I can't tell what hurts worse. Harry being gone, or Zayn being gone. Harry told me that he knew I wanted to break up deep down. He was right. I did want to. But it's murdering me now. I wonder if he feels the same as I do. I want to know if he feels better knowing that he won't have to deal with not trusting me anymore.
What if he knew that I am at Zayn's house? What would he think of me then? It's like I forgot about Harry the second we broke up, which isn't true. I wouldn't be hurting so bad if I forgot about him.
I could never forget Harry. We were great together.
But Zayn and I work differently. I like how we work. I like Zayn, and I'm losing him as I speak.
I hear a knock at the door that tears me out of my mind and into the real world.
At first, I question if I actually heard anything. Nobody would be at Zayn's house at this time. I wait to see if I hear it again before I check it.
The doorbell rings seconds after.
I hastily wipe my eyes and my nose before walking up to the door. I open it to Zayn.
"Hi?" I ask through tears, and I mentally curse myself that I was crying so hard.
Zayn's brown eyes hardly have time to look into mine before he steps into the house. I am surprised as he moves forward until our bodies touch. I step back as he shuts the door behind us.
He places his hands on my shoulders. "You're crying?" he notes softly.
I put my head down so he can't see me. "Yeah, well." His thumb brushes under my eyelids, one after the other, wiping away the traces of tears that were still there. I sigh as he does this. Pathetic, I keep thinking. Pathetic for coming here to try to stop his date. Pathetic for forgetting Harry? the second you thought of Zayn. Despicable. Worthless. Pathetic. I wince at my critical thoughts. "Why aren't you on your date?" I ask, deciding to think about something less horrible.
He kind of breathes a laugh. I lift my head to see his face to figure out why he could be laughing. He smiles with his lips together as I find his eyes. My mood does not allow his sweet smile to calm me down. I stare at him for an answer to my question. He clears his throat. "There was no date with Delilah," Zayn confesses.
I blink. I could not have heard that right. A thousand things run through my mind. I shake my head no, while he nods. He can't be telling the truth. "You're lying," I whisper.
"I'm not," he says. He runs his hands down my arms and holds my hands. "I did it to make you jealous."
My heart races once again, excitement running through my bloodstream reaching every inch of my body. I lose my old train of thoughts and all of the emotions with it as this new idea comes to mind. Zayn didn't give a shit about Delilah. Zayn only wanted me.
His hands let go of my fingers and jump to my waist, and he lightly pulls me closer. He leans down to my ear. "Kiss me," he whispers hotly.
His words produce goosebumps on the skin of my neck, and I gasp.
Harry and I broke up an hour ago. I sigh as that guilt weighs on me once again. "I don't think I can," I stutter out, against everything my body desires.
He touches my chin and he angles it up. His lips delicately brush against mine, and my eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his soft touch.
"Kiss me," he says into my parted lips. I exhale as excitement floods into my body. Isn't this what you wanted, my mind tells me.
It is unavoidable. I kiss him, and he kisses me back with unrestrained passion. A kiss backed by longstanding desires and the deep curiosity we have had for each other since the first day. The eagerness of the kiss says it all. Both of us fighting the physical barriers to get closer to each other. The obstacles that kept us apart are far from memory now, the only thing I am conceiving is Zayn. Zayn- his rapid breaths, his thumb on my cheek that holds me into the kiss. I breathe in his cologne, wishing I could take in more of the enticing scent. Seconds after our lips meet, the kiss deepens, his tongue tracing the inside of my mouth. I notice the minty taste on his breath, fresh and invigorating.
Warmth grows in me as I think of Zayn.
He wanted me this entire time. I worried and stressed over Delilah for nothing. My arms wrap around his neck as his arms hug my waist. Our chests press up to each other, and I can feel his heart pound. I wonder if he can feel mine. I hope he can. I want him to know that this is how he makes me feel, that he makes my heart race. I place my hand on his chest, feeling the source of the pounding. His heart is warm on my palm. His entire body radiates its heat, spreading to me and eliminating any cold thoughts I could have.
He breaks the kiss. His forehead rests on mine, giving both of us a needed second to breathe. I smile on his lips, and he chuckles in response. The shadows that cover his face cannot hide the small gleam in his brown eyes. I gaze into the centers of light that fill me with a type of glee that burns inside. I grin wide.
Zayn's eyes closes his eyes, then his lips search for mine again. I love how he kisses me. It's gentle- missing the rushing of before but still filled with the intensity that shoots through my body. All it does is leave me wanting more, a feeling I'm sure Zayn shares.
He starts to walk into the house, and I mirror his footsteps backwards. I grasp onto his neck with one hand as I anxiously feel behind me for the kitchen counter I know I am going to hit. I feel the cold table on the palm of my hand, then I am pressed up against it, chilling the skin on my lower back and hips.
Zayn pulls back, but I try to linger at his lips as long as I can. He chuckles and I let the embrace end.
I bite my lip and stare at the man I have wanted this from for so long. He stares back at me and emits a similar feeling. Our heavy breathing starts to even out as we stand still at the counter. I know this moment will not last long. Zayn isn't the type of guy to waste time in this type of situation. So I savor the moment. I savor looking into his eyes, pulling him closer to me by his blazer.
He gives a sly smile, peeking his tongue between his teeth. I laugh and wrinkle my forehead, confused at his behavior.
He tickles my waist. I squeal loudly and hop backwards.
He breaks out laughing. My cheeks burn, and I slap his hands away that attempt to keep tickling my waist. I begin to giggle at the game we created. He tightens his grip on my waist. I look up to him and raise my eyebrows. "Stop," I try to say, but the moment my lips are in line with his, he kisses me.
His hands leave my waist and cup my cheeks as I try to pull away, acting annoyed at him. He keeps me at the kiss, his soft lips locked with mine. I forget my act, becoming engulfed by the feelings again. I hear him chuckle as his fingers leave my face. He sheds his blazer off of his body, leaving him in the grey button up shirt I chose for him. The blazer hits the floor, and Zayn kicks it to the side. He then picks me up and places me on the kitchen counter. I laugh as I've become inches taller than him and I smile down at him.
His hands slowly slide down my legs to my knees. He pulls my body to the edge of the table and slips himself between my legs. He fits his hands on my lower back. I grin as his fingers forget my shirt and make direct contact to my skin. Our kisses, playful minutes ago, evolve to aggressive. Lips locking, driven by our certain need for each other.
I wrap my legs around his waist, encouraging him to pick me up. He does so. With ease, he slides me off of the counter and holds me as we kiss.
He begins to walk with me in his arms down the hallway that leads to his room. I feel his chest through his shirt and begin to realize how much I'd rather have him with it off. I fumble with the top button while still within the embrace.
He slams me into his closed bedroom door, fingers tangled in my hair, grasping at it and the nape of my neck, aching to pull me closer into the embrace. His hand leaves my hair and fumbles its way down to the door handle, where I hear struggled *clicks*. The door flies open and throws us into the room. A strong hand keeps me stable as I am guided to the bed.
I open my eyes as he lowers me down and I feel the soft fabric against my skin. The room that is so clean, that I thought was for Delilah, suddenly makes sense. The room was clean for me. (A/N: i... don't even know)
A new wave of arousal courses through me. His warm body hovers over me as I slide onto the bed. He follows suit, his arms and knees to either side of my body, inching his way up to my face. I smile while looking at him. I was only able to unbutton his shirt down to the second button down, but it looks hot anyways.
"You don't even know how long I've wanted you," he whispers to me through a laugh of disbelief. He kisses me.
I hum into the kiss in response, and I feel him smile against my lips. He kisses down my cheek from the corner of my lip, slowing where my neck meets my jaw and shocking me with every move. I lose my thoughts as the new feelings distract from the world around. Zayn takes both of my hands in one of his and lays them down above my head.
I notice the bottom of my shirt being rolled up. The fabric rests on my hips and reveals part of my belly button. Zayn's fingers trace soft designs on my exposed skin then reach out for the edge of my shirt, delicately inching it up more. My heart pounds against my chest as the shirt reaches the bottom of my breasts. This is actually happening, I realize. I am frozen as the shirt brushes over my chest and is pulled off of my body. I watch him sweep the shirt off of the bed, my chest heaving up and down as my breaths grow deeper. Any noises are blocked out from my own heart beat.
He dips down to my neck again. "Zayn-" I say quietly, but he doesn't hear me. I place my hands on my chest and lightly push on him. He lifts his head and smiles oddly at me, then dips down again. I stop his chest with my hand. "I want to, Zayn-"
"So do I," he breathes out, then he goes to my neck again.
I press against his chest with more force, and with a sigh he comes up and moves off of me. I sit up on the bed. He scoots backwards and sits so he can see my face. I feel self-conscious with my shirt off in front of Zayn, and my arms automatically cross in front of my chest. "I can't," I say quickly. He wrinkles his forehead. I sigh. "I can't do this right now. I'm not in a good place to do this now."
"I don't understand," he says. His words come out hurriedly. "Are you worried about Delilah? Because I swear nothing is happening between me and her."
I shake my head. The stress comes to me as I try hard to avoid my eyes getting glossy. "Harry and I broke up an hour before I came here." I pray he understands that it's not enough time for me to forget Harry. "I'm sorry," I say.
I stand up off the bed, and Zayn grabs my hand. "That didn't stop you 10 minutes ago," he argues.
I try to walk away from him and his hand, looking for my shirt on the floor. He gets off of the bed and follows me so that he doesn't have to let go of me. "Well I wasn't thinking 10 minutes ago," I respond.
I find my shirt and pick it up. As I come back up, Zayn takes the opportunity to spin me around and grab my other hand. "This isn't about thinking anymore," he says, staring intently into my eyes. "Harry's gone. You don't have to think about him anymore." Tears well up in my eyes as Zayn mentions Harry. Explicitly saying that Harry is gone. I try to pull back from him, but his grip on my hands tightens. "Feel," he tells me. "What do you want?"
"Listen to me," I say as I try to not cry again. "It hurts me, okay?" He shakes his head, still not understanding. "To forget Harry so quickly, I don't want that. It doesn't feel right. I'm sorry."
His grip on my hands weakens so I pull away and leave his room. I put on my shirt quickly and grab my purse and my shoes and I run out of the door, not giving him a chance to catch me.
A/N:
I didn't write this as well as I should have and I know that but I was working on it for two weeks and I just couldn't take rereading it again. Hope it works well enough for you though.
PS: I'm sorry she ran, I know it's annoying, but I didn't want to make her even more heartless. She's heartless enough. She just needs to breed with Zayn already, I know. But don't worry it'll be fixed next chapter. It's all denouement from here.
PPS: I hate HaTE HATE writing anything near smut never again
PPPS: there's only four chapters left ;)