Hey Bad Boy, You're A Tad Overrated

Violet Bronze, Vod, is One Direction’s new stylist and she hates how full of himself Zayn Malik is. Yes, he has smoldering good looks and a moody, mysterious attitude, but Vod is not so easily impressed. Or so she thought. When Zayn begins to send her mixed signals, one minute he acts as if he wants her, the next he ignores her, she doesn’t know what to think or what to do. But there’s one thing she’s dying to tell him, ‘Hey bad boy, you’re a tad overrated!’

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27. 27. Intoxicating

After Harry left, Zayn carried me to his bed and we made love, but we didn’t fall asleep afterwards. We lay pressed against each other in absolute silence. Zayn was on his back. He was lost in thought and was absentmindedly stroking his fingers on my back. I was on my side. I had my cheek pressed on his chest and was drawing imaginary hearts and stars on his stomach with my forefinger. Suddenly, I gasped and went on my knees. I was naked, so, I wrapped his bed sheet around me. Zayn was naked, too.

‘I have this brilliant idea,’ I told him all excited.

Zayn smiled, put his hand on my cheek and looked at me with such love and lust that my stomach filled with butterflies. ‘Let’s hear it,’ he said.

‘Let’s go for a walk!’ I told him and bit my lower lip, smiling big, waiting for his reply.

Zayn chuckled before he completely dismissed my idea. ‘It’s 3 am, doll,’ he said simply.

‘So?’ I asked, frowning. ‘Come on, grandpa,’ I teased. ‘Live a little. You’re young.’

Hey,’ Zayn warned, grabbing my wrist. He pulled me against him and wrapped an arm around me, keeping me there. Our faces were only a breath apart. In the semi darkness of his room, Zayn studied very carefully every inch of my face and I swooned helplessly.

I pulled myself together and pleaded, ‘Please, Zayn, let’s go for a walk.’

Zayn sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Then, he said tiredly, ‘It’s pouring down rain outside, Vod.’

‘Oh, come on, baby, please,’ I begged like a spoilt five year old, but hey, it actually worked.

‘Fine,’ Zayn said defeated, but when I tried to get up, he didn’t let me. He held me even tighter against him and brushed his lips across mine. ‘Kiss me first,’ he ordered huskily, and I smiled, closing my eyes, leaning in. He let me give him a few tender kisses before he demanded a longer one by catching my lower lip between his teeth and sucking on it gently. Then, he set me free to get up and get ready. Zayn watched me put my underwear on, but when I slipped into my skinny jeans, he got up and came up behind me. He folded his one arm around my neck, his other around my stomach, and nuzzled in my hair. He inhaled deeply. ‘You're intoxicating me, doll,’ Zayn groaned into my hair.

At his touch and words, my breathing hitched and my heart raced. I closed my eyes, gripping his forearm, the one around my neck, wishing that this moment could last forever. We stood like that, glued to each other, for a while. Then, Zayn went to put some clothes on. After I wore his grey hoodie and my pink plaid converse, I was set to go. Zayn put on a black sweater, a pair of black trousers and brown boots. He ran a hand through his black hair, grabbed his cigarettes, lighter and wallet, and he was ready, too.

I took his hand, intertwined our fingers and looked into his perfect eyes for a moment. His thick, long eyelashes were seriously killing me some days. His lips curved into a little grin at my examining of his face and I blushed, turning away. ‘Come on,’ I told him over my shoulder, dragging him along.

*

It wasn’t pouring down anymore, it was only drizzling. Zayn and I walked hand in hand down the silent, empty street. It was almost 4 am now. After a while, Zayn hooked his arm around my neck, pulling me closer, and rubbed his nose against my temple. He was so quiet, tonight, but so attentive, too. When a group of friends recognized him, his eyebrows plunged into a frown and he held me protectively close, too close, as if there was any chance that they would somehow hurt me. When they asked him for an autograph, Zayn was reluctant to let me go.

‘Zayn, I’ll be fine,’ I told him, reassuringly, and unhooked his arm from around me. ‘I’ll go buy a chocolate bar, yeah?’ As I walked to the vending machine, I looked over my shoulder. Zayn was signing autographs, but his eyes were fixed on me. When he was done, he came to me, pulled me close, again, and settled his hands over my backside. Zayn watched me intently as I nibbled on my chocolate and a low, throaty moan vibrated in his chest. ‘Stop it, Zayn,’ I complained, feeling uncomfortable.

‘Stop what?’ Zayn asked. He was still staring at my mouth and he clenched his jaw before he ran his tongue over his lower lip.

‘You keep watching me, tonight,’ I said. ‘It’s frustrating.’ Zayn shrugged and I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. ‘I’m thirsty,’ I said, pouting a little. ‘And sleepy, too,’ I added, rubbing one eye. ‘I think we should maybe go back to your flat.’

But Zayn slammed his lips against mine, drove his tongue into my mouth and engaged in kissing me in such a way that I felt like he was sucking my face off. And he was gripping my waist, as if I would disappear if he didn’t. After a while, I gasped, because, I was out of breath, and Zayn broke the kiss. He pressed his forehead against mine and said, breathing fast, ‘I love your mouth. Have I told you that before?’

‘Yes, you have,’ I replied curtly, still in the process of catching my breath. ‘What’s wrong with you tonight?’ I asked, pushing him back lightly. I needed some space. He was suffocating me. Zayn shrugged again and I demanded, pointing my forefinger at him, ‘No, enough with the silence. Tell me what’s wrong. Right now!’

A half smile played on his lips. He looked entertained by everything I did, something which only irritated me even more. Zayn took my hand and planted a slow, soft kiss on my palm before he finally confessed, ‘I’m just a little afraid, doll, that’s all.’

I frowned. ‘Afraid of what?’

‘Afraid of losing you,’ Zayn replied dead serious. He was a little pale, too. I parted my lips but I had lost my voice at the moment. He went on, ‘The fear of losing you cripples me because I don’t think that I can live without you. I don’t want to live without you.’

‘Zayn,’ I breathed, cupping his face in my hands. ‘I’ll stay in your life until you are bored of me, until you put me down. Okay?’

‘Doll, I won’t – ’ Zayn began, but I put my hand over his mouth, hushing him.

‘Don’t,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I told you before, I hate promises, so, don’t make me any.’ I dropped my hand from his mouth and shrugged. ‘If you don’t want to lose me, don’t give me a reason to go.’

‘What if it’s not up to me?’ Zayn asked and I stiffened because he was talking about Hunter.

‘Then, fight for me,’ I told him. He looked at me for the longest moment. Then, I said, ‘Can we go back to your flat now? The sun will come out soon.’

Zayn nodded, put his arm around my neck and kissed my hair. I thought I saw a tear glistening in the corner of his eye, but I shook the thought off. Zayn wouldn’t cry for me. He shouldn’t. We walked back to his place in absolute silence.

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