Delicate

Finley Abbott and Liam Payne were inseparable since they were little kids. Fast forward to 2012- as they finally meet again. This time, Liam and his bandmates are internationally famous and tour worldwide.
Finley thinks she's got all of Liam's mates figured out, all except one. Zayn Malik.

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10. naked, on my couch and hung over. (again)

 

   I was completely sure I hated Zayn Malik.

    But that was mostly because he teased me so easily, and could get away with it because he was fit, seemingly unsuspecting, and a convincing liar. It didn't hurt that I also didn't have to guts to tell Liam that his bandmate practically sexually harrassed by whispering dirty come-ons in my ear when he left me so faithfully in his care.

   They weren't so bad that I was anguish for a bit in shame, but they were bad enough to make me blush and feel confused and like a poorly victim to his sneers and filthy words.

   Liam had been reunited with his girlfriend again, who he promised he'd introduce me to. Apparently, the reunion must have brought out another side to him, because before I knew it, he told me he was hosting a large get together at our place- rather, his place where I was living off him like an unemployed twenty-something year old.

   Meaning, of course, party time.

   The booze was flowing even though I was underage, I was far too familiar with alcohol to turn it down. I got buzzed, but I didn't go any further. More than I could say for some people.

   Most of them were gone by the morning, and I got up at ten-thirty still nursing a dull throbbing headache. I crept out of my room, the place where I had to forcibly eject a passionate couple who were making out fervently when I discovered them on my bed.

   There was crap everywhere, bottles rolling around, party streamers and other things I really didn't want to touch. I tip toed around them delicately, heading towards the couch where hopefully I wouldn't find a bunch of used condoms stuffed between the pillows. No, instead I found something much worse.

   I'd just stepped around what looked like someone's pants, when I glanced down at the couch and let out a terrified scream. Quickly, I staggered backwards, slapping my hand to my mouth to stop the noise, but it'd already escaped me.

   The sight of a butt naked guy, lying stomach down on the couch was so terrifying to me that I had to collapse into a nearby chair. Still, I caught myself staring at him. He was ripped, toned, muscular and gentle curve of his buttocks definitely should not be the focus of my attention. His skin was smooth, looked honey warm.

   "Liam! LIAM!" I shrieked, hoping he'd save me from whoever this nude monster was. I stopped screaming abruptly when the guy sat up with a groan, rubbing at those familiar, gorgeous golden eyes wearily.

   He moaned, before sticking his head back into a pillow. Slowly, I stood up, noticing how wobbly my knees were. I crept up to him, standing out of his arm's flinging range, and raised my foot, cautiously prodding his bum with my toe.

   "Whatthefuck!" he cursed abruptly, starting up. He jerked upwards, his eyes confused and dazy as he stared at me, trying to focus on my face. He struggled to sit up, as he moved his head back and forth, squinting at me. While he was doing this, he seemed to forget that he was now sitting infront of me buck naked. "Who-" He stopped abruptly when he realised who I was, snatching a pillow and covering himself quickly.

   "Why are you..." I began hesitantly, but he swallowed, staring up at me almost imploringly.

   "Where are my clothes?" he demanded, as though I should know. He looked around, slightly bewildered. "Where...who...wait-" He glanced up, true panic in his eyes. His darted to mine and his lips pulled into a grimace. "You and I...? We didn't...?"

   I stared at him for a while, trying to work out what he was saying, before I jumped.

   "No!" I said hurriedly, waving my hands infront of his face. I realised I was only wearing an over large shirt over my underwear. Where the hell were my pants? "NO! No way..." He groaned, putting his head in his hands.

   "Fuck," I heard him mutter as I darted around the couch and headed for the kitchen. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

   "I went to bed early," I replied, pouring a glass of water. I walked back over, handing it to him gingerly. He accepted it, a little confused but grateful. He grunted a thanks and downed the contents in one.

   "Where are my clothes?"

   "I don't know."

   "Where's Liam?"

   "I don't know."

   "What time is it?" he groaned frustratedly.

   "Oh," I said, relieved I could finally answer one of his question. "Er, just before eleven." I heard mutter cuss words under his breath as he shifted the pillow over his business. He was cradling his heads in his hands delicately, and I scooped up a loose article of clothing draped over the sofa armrest. A pair of boxers.

   "These yours?" I asked, holding them infront of his face. He squinted at the, before he shrugged like it couldn't possibly matter. He took them from me, standing up so the pillow fell down. I made myself look away as he tugged the boxers- that possibly weren't his- on.

   "Thanks," I heard him say, sounding a little better. After a long silence, I looked up to find him staring down at me confusedly. "Why are you helping me?"

   "Uh," I said, words failing me. Even pale, hung over and all squinty, I couldn't but admit that Zayn Malik really was something to look at. "Because you're naked, on my couch and hung over?" His lips tugged momentarily for what I thought was a smile, before falling again.

   I got up from the couch, turning away before his grip suddenly caught my wrist. On instinct, I yanked it away instantly, my eyes widening in fear as I tried to back away. I'd been gripped like that way too often to anticipate the hurt and abuse that would follow.

   "Hey," he said gently, looking confused. "Don't, I was just going to- are you still angry at me for the other day?"

   "Do you even need to ask that?" I replied wearily, presing my lips together. He sighed, and grumbled wearily.

   "I guess I probably shouldn't have teased you like that," he said finally, looking disgruntled.

   "Look, why are you even apologising if you don't want to?" I shot back, a little disgusted at him.

   "No!" he said sharply, before exhaling deeply and rubbing his temples with his forefinger and his thumb. "Finley..."

    "Forget it,"  I said dismissively, walking off to pour myself a glass of water. I was standing at the kitchen counter, tipping the jug into my cup. I'd just set it down, when I felt someone press against my back.

   Silently, his hands landed on my hips, and I could feel the toned form of Zayn's chest pressed against me through the thin fabric of my shirt. His head was hovering next to mine, but I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I froze.

   "Relax," he almost commanded, leaning over me and using one hand to pick at a grap from the fruit bowl. His other hand rested on my hip. I tried not to think about how we were both half naked and still in our underwear while he was up against me like this. I didn't know why- I should still be angry at him for teasing me surely?

   I picked at the rim of the cup with my finger while he chewd on the grape thoughtfully.

   "I'm only holding you so you won't go scampering off before I can apologise for being a dick," he said in a soft voice, in my ear. I couldn't help but notice how nice it felt with him with his hands on my hips, his head hovering near mine. Which was stupid. I shouldn't be enjoying this.

   "Was that your apology?" I shot back, biting my lip as I raised the cup to my lips and sipped it.

   "No," he said lightly, his eyes locked on my face tightly. "But this is." Gently, he reached and cupped my cheek in one hand and brought my face around so I was facing him. Confused, I stared back at him. He looked ridiculously good, and his eyes dropped to my lips. What? What the hell was happening?

   Slowly, he dragged his thumb across my bottom lip before letting it slip past them into my mouth. I had no idea what he wanted me to do, so he instructed insistently,

   "Suck." I shivered at his words, gnashing at his thumb roughly with my tongue, sucking it and grinding it against my teeth. He watched my mouth fascinatedly while his lips were parted, moist with his tongue tracing them teasingly. Slowly, he pulled his thumb away. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, sending me slightly mad.

   "What are you..." I began hesitantly, but he shook his head, silencing me impatiently as he leaned in. I stopped breathing as he did. Suddenly, the sound of the back door swining open and shut brought us apart.

   I watched him, mouth agape as he strode across the living room in his boxers.

   "Liam?"

   "Buddy..." I heard Liam reply and Zayn disappeared from view. I was still struggling for breath deftly, feeling sick with guilt- because more than anything, I wished that he'd kissed me. I wished that Zayn had kissed me.

 

 

 

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