Across the ocean (15+)

It is usually no big deal for Zayn Malik to sleep with girls every now and then, but when one of his one night stands turns out to be one of One Direction's new make up artists, things turn out a little different than he had planned...


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12. So I gave in, and decided to show up

Amanda's P.O.V:

 

"Tonight, at Zen?" Harry asked me, as I was slipping my Balenciaga over my shoulder.  

"What's happening tonight?" I asked, and raised my eyebrows, while letting my eyes run over Harry's face, trying to read his mind. All I could see in his boyish green eyes, was the flirty sparkle.
"We've booked a club," Harry said, and smiled proudly. I rolled my eyes, "You've booked a whole club?" I asked, in disbelief. 

He shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, or... We... Yeah, we kinda did," 

"Who's coming?" I asked, trying to sound unimpressed. 

"Some friends, and the lads of course," 

"The lads, do you seriously call them that?" I asked, and laughed a little.

"You didn't answer, Amanda," He said, and crossed his arms over his chest, while studying me with a 'You-can't-say-no' face. I sighed, and looked around in the hall. I was unsure about what to do when it came to Zayn, cause after what happened yesterday, I was afraid that things had turned badly out between us, and it somehow felt wrong. But come on, I was after all Amanda, and the Amanda that I knew, never turned a good party down. Never. 

"Do you even need to ask?" I answered him, and sent him a flirty smile. I took a step back, and took a fast look down the hall again. I knew that there was a chance that Zayn would come walking in my direction any seconds, so I fast I grabbed my bag tighter, looked back at Harry, and said: 

"I'll see you tonight," 

Then I headed away, leaving him standing alone in the hall. I pulled the backdoor up, and ended up in the backyard of their studio. The fresh summer air was starting to get hotter, but I was still wearing skintight black jeans, and an Alexander Wang t-shirt in dark grey, that almost looked black. And like all the other days, I was wearing my old school black and white vans, and my black Balenciaga Town.

Chicago's summers were not that hot, but the past years they had been 30+ celsius, and that was a lot more than it was right now. Since the summer only had started, and England wasn't the most sunny country, heavy grey clouds were tucking the town in, as I made my way towards the door, leading out of the backyard.

I stopped walking, and took a short moment to breathe the air in, and enjoy the sound of the cars from the streets, on the other side of the fence. While I stood there, and let the thick and somehow hot weather tuck me in like it was a blanket, I realised what I really could use.

A cigarette.

I dug my hand down in my bag, and grabbed the pack of Marlborough Gold up. It was half filled. I grabbed one between my forefinger and thumb, pulled it up, and let the package slip down in my bag again. I placed the cigarette between my lips, and found the lighter in my bag as well. 

I lit it up, took a puff, inhaled, and exhaled. 

 

"You know - smoking is not good for you," A familiar voice sounded from behind, causing me to spin around fast. Zayn stood some meters away from me, with his hands dug down in the pockets of his shorts. His face was lit up in a little smile, almost a tiny grin. "I didn't mean to scare you," He chuckled. I moved the cigarette away from my lips, and stared at him for a few seconds, "You didn't". 

He raised his eyebrows, looking at me in disbelief. I was just not much for admitting that he had scared - or surprised me - so I decided to brush it off, acting as if he hadn't. We looked at each other for some seconds, until he pulled out a cigarette himself. "Neither is it good for you," I said, and curled my lips into a little smile. He shrugged, and placed it between his lips while mumbling, "I'm going to die anyway". 

"So am I!" 

"The difference is just that you are extremely pretty, and you wouldn't wanna ruin your pretty face with smoking," He kept my gaze for a few seconds. Then he pulled a lighter out of his shorts pocket, and lit up the cigarette. I was taken by his sudden compliment, but once again I tried not to let it get to me. "You wouldn't wanna ruin your face either, it was put together quite well," I chuckled, and flicked the cigarette and raised it to my lips again. A smirk grew on his lips, and he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, "What about that we both stop then?" 

"- but I'm not addicted, and you are..." That was a fact. I only smoked every now and then, and Zayn smoked daily. If I didn't stop though it would soon become an addiction. The thought of my face in twenty years if I started smoking daily scared me. Never had I ever been told that it would be a shame to ruin my face. Not like that. 

"You will be, so why don't we start with you?" He reached the hand he didn't have the cigarette in, out for me. I looked up at him, down at it and then up at him again. "C'mon... Shake my hand, give me your packets and lighter and we're already on our way to saving your from those poisoned sticks," 

I thought about it and finally gave in. Maybe it wasn't that hard after all... It couldn't be, since I didn't see myself as addicted. He had a firm grip and shook my hand like you do when you make a deal. I changed the subject by asking him about tonight, "Are you coming at that club tonight?" 

"Yeah, are you?"

"Harry invited me, but I'm not quite sure..."

"It will probably be fun - you should really come," 


So I gave in, and decided to show up...

 

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