January. // z.m. au
"Zayn," he spoke, smoke leaving his lips once again as he dropped the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with his dark boots. His hand darted in between us as he awaited a response.
"January," I said faintly, grabbing his hand.
"Nice," he chuckled, making the first move to release my cold fingers. His hands held a nice warmness to them.
"Like the month," he nodded. "I like it."
» read the sequel here http://my.w.tt/UiNb/y9izHftVhv