Like I Love You: A Zayn Malik Romance

Trinity Ross has always been a fan of One Direction. Not a superfan, but a fan. And she gets the chance to meet them--on accident. Bumping into Zayn Malik on her journey to fame has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. But complications due to fame have risen. Will they stick it out? Or will everything come crumbling down?

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15. Good Deeds

 

"What's your name, sweetie?"

"Mia," the adorable little five-year-old says, smiling and showing me her dimples. Like Harry. Ha.

"That's a cute little name," I complimented as I wrote my message for her. 

 

 

Mia,

You're so cute! I hope you have an amazing day. Can you wait for Christmas? I know I can't!

Love,

Trinity <3

 

 

Cheesy, I know. But she was little. I had every right.

"Thank you," she said sweetly as I handed her the magazine and CD she'd asked me to sign.

"No problem, sweetie. I love you!"

Her eyes and smile widened as she turned to her sister. "Feeby! Trinity loves me!"

Phoebe--I was sure that's what Mia was aiming for--bent down and picked her up, smiling back at her.

"Yes, she does, now say it back," she said gently.

Mia turned to grin at me. "I love you, Trinity!"

I giggled.

Phoebe looked at me with a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said earnestly.

I smiled gently. "No problem. Thanks for listening to my music."

She whispered something to Mia, then turned sideways. "Bye!" she said, smiling at me and giving me a quick wave, as she was holding her little sister.

I waved back, then smiled at the next girl in line.

After another hour of signing anything the fans gave me, it was time to go. There was no one left to sign things for, anyway. Unless you count the group of girls standing outside the entrance, who didn't have passes to get to me. I felt so bad for them.

I stood up and said goodbye to the crowd that I had gotten to, then made my way to the exit. Once I reached it, I pulled back the red rope and stepped through it, putting it back straight away. I whipped my hair out of my eyes as I turned back around and smiled, walking over to the girls who couldn't get in.

"Hi," I said to them.

Once they saw me, their eyes widened, and I was pretty sure two of them had tears in their eyes. One was shaking, and another was hyperventilating. The last girl just smiled back.

"Hi," she replied sadly.

I frowned. "What's wrong?"

The brunette--actually, they were all brunettes--sighed. "We couldn't get in, so we waited here for like two hours for you to come out. Thanks, though," she added, clearly happy now.

I smiled again. "You're welcome. Can I sign anything for you?" I asked politely.

"Um, actually," one of the other girls said; she had blue eyes, "we didn't really . . . bring anything." She cleared her throat embarrassedly.

I grinned. "Then I guess you get a picture. Individual, group . . .? Both . . .?"

They were like deer in headlights. It was actually kinda funny.

"S-sure," the first one said. "But aren't you, like, super busy?"

I shrugged. "I've got time." I actually wasn't doing anything for the rest of the day, and I was so happy.

"O-okay," she stuttered, then pulled out a small red camera. The rest of the girls quickly followed suit.

"Group or individuals first?" I asked.

"Individuals," they all agreed. I laughed and began posing.

Once they all had one picture of them standing with me, they all stood at my sides and I held out my phone. It was set to the front camera, so I quickly adjusted my appearance, then smiled and snapped the photo.

We all looked at it. 

"Thank you so much," said one of the girls that was previously crying.

"No problem," I replied. I pulled each of them in for their own hugs, then collected their Twitter names in my phone and said goodbye.

I sighed happily and smiled as I walked to the bus. The boys had stuff to do today--I didn't really care what--so I had the whole bus to myself. Since Paul was with them, I was literally the only living thing on this bus. Except for the plants scattered throughout. And the big fishtank. What a hazard.

It took a while, but eventually the lot became quiet, as all the fans were officially gone. I grinned like a madwoman and ran to the central stereo system, putting in my Don't Panic CD by All Time Low. It went straight to my favorite song.

 

 

"Mayday, situation overload

I'm restless, obsessed with your future

And all my worries, they don't bother you

Collected, you render me useless . . ."

 

 

"BUT I CARRY ONN!" I screamed. Throughout the whole song, I jumped around and danced like an idiot, not caring who saw me. I didn't have to worry about that, though. Nobody else was here.

After For Baltimore, I put it on The Irony Of Choking On A Lifesaver and danced to the introduction. It was a few long seconds, but Alex eventually started singing. 

"STOP FUCKING AROUND WITH MY EMOTIONS!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. That was for you, ex-boyfriends, I thought.

A bit of time passed until I became aware of another presence around me somewhere. I froze in my position--which was quite strange; arms spread wide, head thrown back, mouth wide open, and standing on my tiptoes. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

And then I screamed.

As I let out my scream, I fell back down onto my heels as I covered my mouth, taking a shocked step back. My eyes were as wide as the moon.

"Zayn, what the hell?!" I yelled, uncovering my mouth to open my arms, and taking a step forward.

He chuckled; his eyes sparkled, lighting up the whole room. "You have a concert tomorrow, again," he reminded me.

I glared. "I know."

He smirked. "So you should rest your voice; I heard you're doing an original? Is it just you, or do you need assistance?"

My face softened, as did my posture. "Just an original."

"So you wrote it?"

I rolled my eyes. "That would be the definition of original, sweetheart."

He raised an eyebrow, but I could see how bright his eyes were. 

I sighed, crossing my arms and looking around. "So," I said, walking over to the stereo and turning it down, "is there any reason you decided to interrupt my relaxing evening?"

He came forward as he said, "Is that what you call it? I call it--"

"I don't want to know what you call it," I interrupted. I met him halfway and gave him a hug.

"I missed you," he murmured into my hair.

My eyes squeezed shut even tighter. "I missed you more," I whispered against his body. He was so warm; he always felt like he'd just come out from spending hours in his covers. Heated.

We pulled away, and, keeping our gazes locked, I whipped my bangs out of my eye. Maybe I should cut it . . .

"I want a haircut," I stated, reaching up and taking a lock of brown hair inbetween my thumb and forefinger. I frowned down at it. My highlights were fading anyway, plus I was starting to get split ends. A simple trim would not do.

Zayn reached for me again, and I gladly accepted. He buried his face in my neck.

"Anything for you, love."

 

 

 

 

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hey guys!! i have wifi for a long time, so i'm gonna be able to upload more regularly! sadly, this is all i have written and uploaded, so it may be a couple days until i upload again lol but im writing as much as i can xD

Love you, stay sexy, and listen to Little Things. I love it <3 xxxx 

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