Harry
The alcohol has let us all sleep well. My last thought was still for Zayn and my first for Zayn. He's probably still in bed. I would give anything to take a look at him and kiss him gently awake. Still quite sleepy I walk into the kitchen. I'm alone; Taylor is at work.
The coffee smells lovely and eggs are sizzling in the pan. I cheerily hum a melody. My gaze wanders outside. The sun is shining and I decide to have breakfast outside. On the neighbouring property I hear loud talk. I'm trying to stretch out to see who's visiting.
Black hair, darker skin tone - it's Zayn. But he's not alone. A closer look I recognize a young, pretty woman. She has blond, long hair and tilts her head. She is obviously flirting with him. My breakfast is immediately forgotten and gets cold. The hustle and bustle next door is much more interesting for me than my own work. Zayn laughs merrily. What a cheerful nature he is all of a sudden, I grimly realize. I am annoyed by his childish behaviour. What the fuck?
When I letting my thoughts run free, he spotted me.
"Good morning, neighbour," it sounds over to me.
"Morning", I grumble back.
The blonde looks at me and is visibly annoyed, because Zayn's attention is not on her right now. I seem to interrupt her rendezvous with God. Her blue beady eyes are flashing with anger. Now he runs to the fence and hangs his upper body over it.
"You're late today," he jokes.
Just you wait, I'll show you! His boldness to flirt with this ridiculous blonde deserves a little whupping.
"I had a late, exhausting night." He looks puzzled.
"The early bird catches the worm, Harry."
Okay, that hit home! All right, That's one up to you! I'm angry at this outrageous comment.
"Well, don't keep the lady and your worm waiting, Zaynie!"
With this sentence I turn around and want to leave as Zayn responds:
"Styles, please come back!"
The pitch sounds dangerous.
"What for?" I ask .
As soon as he reaches the fence he grabs my hands and hisses:
"What's this snotty remark supposed to mean? Are you jealous?"
I can't think of anything spontaneously. Speechless and ashamed I stand there.
The silence is interrupted by him.
"Let me touch you, babe," he asks quietly.
My heart stops for a moment.
"I forgot the feel of you," he continues.
I wake up from my dream and answer him:
"You have company now, Zayn, who likes to be touched by you, BABY!"
"Come on, Harry. What is this nonsense all about? She's my model. I'm just portraying her."
Oh, he portrays her. Is that supposed to be an excuse for him flirting with her in the garden?
"I don't care," I mumble.
"Baby, come on. Let me touch you. Just for a little moment," he complains.
I'm getting closer to the fence.
"Let me feel your wonderful body. I miss you. I long for your lips and your..."
I'm interrupting his speech.
"What?" Now I'm blushing.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Zayn?" He nods eagerly.
"Just a little touch, baby," he asks impatiently.
"It seems to me you've got a sunstroke or something! Who the hell do you think you are? I'm not your toyboy, Malik!", I scold and am outraged.
How does he actually treat me!
"Have fun with your scrawny girl", I'm chirping and distance myself from the garden fence.
Turning around, I don't miss how he desperately hits the fence with his hands.
So, now I feel better. There is still a lot of work to be done. I cannot put off any longer. My publisher and friend Louis is coming tomorrow and wants some finished chapters of my book. Time to get to work! I'm trying to encourage myself and immerse myself in my writing for several hours.
Late in the afternoon I go swimming in the pool. The heat is unbearable, as it has been for the last few days. Well, it was too hot outside, Zayn went into the house. The garden is empty. I see him standing in his studio in front of an easel. He deliberately chews on a pencil and looks at his painting. I don't recognize the blonde anywhere.
My rage from the morning is not over yet. I've got some revenge to tend to. Only with a towel around my hips I walk to the pool. I'm deliberately slowing down so he can really spot me. A quick glance at him shows me that he has noticed me and is walking towards the window. With a cunning smile on my lips, I slowly slide the towel over my hips. I stand naked in the garden. Zayn's jaw dropped. He is standing there staring. I have a good stretch and then glide slowly into the water.
As expected, it doesn't take long until the Pakistani enters his garden. I swim a few laps in the water and never let him out of my sight for a moment. Zayn has laid down on a sunlounger and tans his heavenly body. He only wears tight shorts. I lose my self-control. Quickly I walk out of the pool and open the garden gate. Carefully I sneak to him. Water drips off of my hair. I bend over him and flip my hair. Cooling drops of water fall on his heated skin. Zayn grumbles.
"Hey Styles, that's cold and unpleasant!"
"Is that so?" I coo.
"I thought, you could need a cooling off. It'll do you good, you peeper!" I laugh.
"Are you still naked, Harry?" he asks impudently, blinking into the sun.
"Open your eyes, Malik," I shout.
He shakes his head.
"I'd rather use my hands."
He stretches out his arms into the sky and reaches for me.
"Mmmhh, baby, I want to feel your cool skin." His fingers reach my legs and stroke them.
Jerkily he sits up straight and his head is right in front of my lap. I swallow. Zayn's voice gets deeper.
"Just the right position, baby," he coughs.
"Yes," I answer.
His face gets closer and closer and then I feel his lips.
"Wow, Malik," I moan.
"You like that, don't you?" I don't answer.
Before I can think of anything, I feel his lips around my manhood. What a feeling. I'm going crazy right now. When he greedily licks around with his tongue, it almost takes my breath away.
"How excited you are, Harry,' he mumbles with a mouth full.
"Zayn', I say in a trembling voice.
My pelvis moves forward faster. Zayn rolls his eyes as I grasp into his thick hair.
"Mmmhhhh."
"Do you like that, Zaynie?"
He nods and gasps:
"Yes, I like that." His eyes are darker and full of lust.
"Wait Zayn."
I pull out my penis and I sit on his lap. He moans. My pelvis circles slowly and my hands are on his shoulders. Zayn almost loses control. "How do you like that?" I want to know.
"It's perfect.," he grunts.
"Take your pants off," I command.
Hastily he strips them off. My mouth kisses him and my tongue circles his sensitive spot.
"Baby," he gasps.
"Did you paint the blonde naked this morning, Zayn?"
"Huh? Why do you ask, Harry? You're ruining the perfect blow job!"
"Did you or not?" My mouth closes.
"Hey, don't stop. Please! Put my dick back in your mouth, Styles!" he complains.
" Answer my question, Malik!"
"Yes, I did! He begs again that I continue the blow job.
"Baby, where's the pretty mouth of yours?"
" It turns you on? I thought you only portrayed her", I curse.
"Please, Harry. Continue where we left off," he says.
"Too late, my Dear. Are you sleeping with all the models?" I rumble on.
I'm really mad at him and my excitement is gone. "Damn Styles! I'm a man. So what? I'm not answerable to you for the way I do my work! We are not married. I can have as much sex as I want and with whom I want," he sounds hateful.
I'm not waiting for his answer, I'm leaving right now.
"Harry, please wait. Where are you going? Let me explain it to you," he calls helplessly after me.
His words hit me hard and still echo in my ear. Zayn has more than clearly explained: He doesn't care about me. What did you expect? , I ask myself. He keeps calling me. Still, I don't look back anymore.