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.


15. the view from the couch.




   Merely a few days later, Zayn's prediction came true. Liam dropped me off at Zayn and Harry's place, promising once again to be back soon. This time I wasn't so bothered since at least Harry was there to protect me if Zayn got all potty-mouthed. Then again, that side to Zayn I hadn't seen a while either.

   The night after the kiss, nothing. The night after that, nothing.

   I came to realise that he probably regretted it and now was avoiding me like I had some infectious disease. I’d slept that night like I hadn’t in a while, a soft fluttery feeling in my stomach that caused my body to relax and settle, instead of tense up in fear or curl into the foetal position. The night I kissed Zayn Malik, I slept for the first time since I’d left Dean. Not that it mattered apparently, because he now completely resented me for it.

   I hovered outside the door, but Liam impatiently knocked on it before I had time to gain my composure.

   In an instant, it was yanked open and Harry beamed at me like I was a long-lost sibling he hadn’t seen in half a century.

   “Finley!” he exclaimed, with a charming half-grin. “How are you? Hey Liam.”

   “Hi Harry,” I braved back, my heart thudding in my chest like a wild animal. “I’m good, thanks.”

   “Hey Haz,” replied Liam casually, glancing easily over me and past Harry. “Zayn in?”

   “Oh yeah,” Harry replied casually, glancing over his own shoulder. “He’s just making popcorn. We’re gonna watch a movie, you wanna join?"

   “Don’t have much choice do I?” I grumbled under my breath and Liam jabbed my side with a frown.

   “She’s been moody lately,” I heard him say quietly to Harry as I stepped inside, surveying the living room slowly. Nothing had changed, still the same couch where Zayn had verbally molested me a few weeks ago.

   “Fin, I’m going now,” Liam said from the door. I turned and waved, he grinned and waved back.

   “Have fun with your girlfriend, Payno,” I shot back and Harry snorted as Liam pulled a face and sauntered off. I heard Harry close the front door and waltz back over to where I was.

   “So,” he sighed, plopping down on the sofa and patting the space next to him invitingly. “What movie dyou reckon?”

   Reluctantly, I sat down next to him.

   “What dyou have?” I asked curiously. He leant forward, his curls brushing over his forehead distractedly as he pulled out a tray full of movies.

   “Well there’s a lot but Zayn and I have watched them all about a million times…” he began uncertainly, rummaging through the pile.

   “We’re watching Dark Knight Rises,” interrupted a voice abruptly and an involuntary chill ran down my spine. Luckily, Harry was too distracted by Zayn’s arrival along with the popcorn to notice me twitching beside him.

   “Whoo! Popcorn!” he yelled happily, snatching the bowl immediately off Zayn who frowned down at him. Zayn’s furrowed eyebrows slowly shifted up to my face, and I dropped my gaze quickly, feeling the heat rise in them. I hated how much power he had over me, goddammit.

   “I don’t mind what movie,” I said to no one in particular, leaning back on the couch. Harry offered me the bowl as Zayn leaned down to put the movie in, and I was so distracted by the view that I nearly dropped half of what I was holding down my shirt.

   “Careful there,” laughed Harry lightly, plucking a kernel of popcorn of my skin and popping it in his mouth like it was perfectly normal. I swear, I didn’t know what to do with boys like these ones.

   Zayn approached the couch, and I could feel his strong gaze on me as he sat down on my other side, still half an arm’s length away. The movie started and Harry jumped up to dim the lights. I watched Harry, unaware until suddenly I felt his breath on my exposed skin around my neck. I started, nearly upturning the bowl of popcorn once again.

   “Fuck!” I hissed and I whipped around to find Zayn very close indeed. Harry was fiddling needlessly with the lighting as Zayn was giving me a deep, almost seductive stare sending goosebumps up and down my arms. It was so intense I felt like I was internally melting. Gently, he leaned in so his lips hovered beside my ear and he whispered,

   “You know, the sofa’s pretty big. There’s no need to sit so close Harry, love.” He leant back and shifted in his position, fixing his eyes on the screen like nothing had happened. I stared confused at him just as Harry came bounding back.

   I took his momentary distraction so shift just a bit further away from him, but not too close to Zayn, just so I was in the middle of them.

   The movie carried on for a while and we watched, but I mind couldn’t help but wander to Zayn and what might be happening with him. Well, at least he wasn’t ignoring me. I was feeling rather warm, so I moved to take my jumper off. I was still wearing a t-shirt underneath, but the movement brought eyes jumping like nothing else. I froze, feeling slightly exposed and sunk back into the couch.

   I glanced at Harry, who shot me a grin before looking back at the screen. Slowly, I turned to look at Zayn. Unlike Harry, he seemed to have no shame in staring at all. His eyes were burning, and there was no way he could be watching the movie if he was this focussed on me. Slowly as ever, he shifted closer and closer towards me.

   I turned my eyes back to the screen, irked by the distraction of him.

   Then he was there, right beside me, an arm somehow around my shoulders but not touching them. Then one of his fingertips brushed my shoulder. I nearly jumped, but instead one of my hands grabbed blindly at the first thing they found under the blankets. His thigh. I felt him tense a little and I eased my grip quickly, slightly ashamed I’d just groped him.

   In all honesty, it was his fault.

   I snuck a glance at Harry, finding him too immersed by the movie to notice anything. Zayn’s light fingertips drew tantalizing circles into my skin, so soft it felt like I was being touched by a cloud. My hand was still resting on his jean-clad thigh, but I didn’t want to move it. Instead I found myself emboldened, and I pressed my fingertips into his leg, observing the way his body seemed to react when I did.

   Harry held the bowl of popcorn out to me and I awkwardly raised my hand from under the blanket to accept it. I took a handful and passed it on to Zayn, who shook his head, his eyes still fixed on me. I put on the table infront of us and sat back. After a minute or so, Zayn leant close to my ear again, blowing hot air on it as he whispered,

   “You don’t have to stop, love.”

   I gulped, and for some reason I listened to him, slipping my hand subtly as possible back under the sheets to his thigh. Yet somehow in the process, I misjudged what was his thigh and what was not, and ended up brushing my hand against something much more than his leg. He tensed noticeably, his other hand grabbing my wrist as it hovered there, teasing against his crotch.

   Suddenly, the sharp ring of the telephone jolted us apart. We untangled our limbs hastily as Harry paused the movie and got up, turning the lights back on.

   “Shit, I’ve got to take this,” he muttered, glancing at his mobile. “One second, guys.” He answered the call, walking up the stairs until his voice faded away and we heard the bedroom door close.

    I looked nervously at Zayn to find him on the other end of the sofa, running a hand through his hair. Dammit, why did he have to look so good when he did that?

   Zayn glanced around, craning his neck, trying to catch sight of the stairs to check if Harry was coming down any time soon. Soon as he seemed satisfied Harry was busy, he scooted closer to me on the couch, cupped my face in his hands and mumbled darkly,

   “Who knew you were such a tease.” With that, he brought his lips to mine, catching me by surprise. It was the first kiss since that night.

   The kiss was heavy, demanding and hot. There was no doubt he knew exactly what he was doing, with those plump lips and that velvet tongue and those straight, white teeth.

   All I could manage was,

   “Grrmm-mmhm…” I managed to get my hands to chest and push him off me slightly. “What the hell are you doing?”

   “Payback,” he replied lightly as if it were so obvious. His lips raised in an attractive smirk. “For before.”

   “I wasn’t-” I began, trying to formulate an excuse, but words immediately faltered as I felt him run his hands abruptly up my shirt. “Christ, Zayn!” I grabbed his hands, shoving them back into his lap just as the bedroom door closed shut and Harry came down the stairs again.

   “You guys right?” Harry asked, stopping halfway down the staircase.

   “Yeah,” said Zayn, letting out a heavy breath and looking a little irritated from being interrupted. “We’re fine. Let’s just continue the movie, right?”

   “Sure,” replied Harry, an eyebrow raised in slight suspicion. Soon we started the movie up again, and the three of us settled in on the couch with me in the middle, Zayn to my left and Harry to my right.

   Not even five minutes into the movie, Zayn’s hand starting creeping over to my leg. I shot him a glance to tell him to cut it out, but he was staring at the screen as though he was actually paying attention to the movie. Slowly, it started shifting back and forth, rubbing my bare skin.

   I fixed my gaze forward, as though nothing was happening. Harry burst out laughing abruptly, and Zayn and I both looked at him in surprise. He rose an eyebrow and gestured to the screen.

   “Get it cos he- you guys didn’t…? Are you even paying attention?” he demanded, with a handful of popcorn. He stuffed it in his mouth.

   “Sorry, a little distracted,” Zayn simpered with a small smile, his golden eyes flickering to mine. I wanted to get his hand off my thigh. But now it was- oh great, now it was travelling further up.

   I hated myself for it, but I felt myself getting a little excited. His fingers traced light circles into my skin and I bit back a moan. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Then his hand was moving up, and up, and-

   I started abruptly as he cupped the front of my shorts, luckily Harry jumped as well, just as someone jumped out in the movie. Whilst he was distracted, I shot Zayn a furious look, but he was smirking and staring blankly straight ahead.

   I should stop him. I should really stop him. I let my eyes flutter closed for a second. That’s not right, it felt like…

   He used his strong hand to nudge my legs further apart slightly, before rubbing it over the front of my shorts, pressing against me. I pressed my lips together tightly, but I couldn’t help squirming. God, it felt so good just… His fingers moved as he started fumbling with the button on my shorts. I wanted to pull away, but for some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

   He finally got the button undone, and just as his fingers began to tease their way down the front, I jumped at the close contact. This time, Harry looked over. I shoved my hands under the blanket, and forced Zayn out of my shorts. My face was undoubtedly bright red and I was completely embarrassed I had just let him grope me like that.

   I got to my feet shakily, hugging the blanket around me so Harry wouldn’t notice that the front of my shorts were deftly unbuttoned.

   “Sorry, sorry,” I apologised fervently, “I gotta…just a second…” Without really considering the consequences, I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. I didn’t stop until I was inside their bathroom. I closed the door sharply behind me, and leant over the sink, breathing heavily.

   Shit, what the hell was happening to me? I bit my lip, quickly doing back up my shorts. Zayn Malik. That’s what was happening to me.

   His stupid victorious smirk was almost too much to bear.

   The blanket lay huddled around my feet and I kicked it out of way angrily. How could I let him fool me like that? Let him touch me like that? I bet he was used to all those girls falling hopelessly at his feet. I promised I wouldn’t let him do that to me, didn’t I?

   I heard a noise, and I looked up in the mirror infront of me to see Zayn standing at the door behind me. I spun around, angry, embarrassed and defiant.

   “What do you want?” I snarled. His eyes were a little wide, pupils dilated so his entire eye was almost black.

   “Is that how you talk to your host?” he inquired prissily, stepping inside. He used his foot to kick the door shut behind him. I swallowed and my gaze flickered over his shoulder distractedly.


   “He’s really enjoying that movie,” he answered, taking a step closer to me. “As far as I could tell, so were you.” He smirked, and I felt my cheeks burn with indignance.

   “What were you playing at?” I demanded angrily, folding my arms over my chest. “Don’t ever come near me again.”

   “Oh love,” he smirked, coming even closer and I pressed myself as far away from him as possible. “We both you know you want the exact opposite of that.” I opened my mouth blankly, not quite sure how to reply to that- except obvious spit in his face that I definitely didn’t want his hand down my pants again.

   His gorgeous face stared back at me insistently, an attractive smirk on those lips, those dark honey eyes following my every move. Slowly, his gaze trailed down my body as if taking in every detail of it. He didn’t even bother to be subtle as he eyed me, before nodding appreciatively.

   “I didn’t come up here to be ogled,” I scowled, striding past him and reaching for the doorknob, but he grabbed me around the waist unexpectedly, catching me off guard.

   His face was so close to mine, I felt my cheeks fill with colour.

   “Are you blushing?” he asked almost curiously, cocking his head and parting his lips slightly.

   “No,” I answered defiantly. He chuckled and shook his head.

   “You’re not a very good liar, Finley,” he said with curve of familiar smirk again. “Do I make you blush? You were blushing when I touched you.” This was almost too much to handle. I was completely torn on whether I should be more angry or inexplicably turned on.

   “Get off me,” I scowled, struggling half-heartedly in his arms, wrapped around my waist.

   “You don’t want me to stop touching you,” he stated quietly, leaning in so his lips grazed my ear. I continued struggling, mostly just to show I was still against this. “Tell me where.”

   “Stop it, Zayn,” I mumbled, shoving my hands against his chest.

   “Ohoo feisty,” he chuckled lowly, lowering his lips to the side of my neck. “I like watching your face when you’re being touched. It’s hot.” Oh god. My face was absolutely burning, ashamed almost by the dirty words he was whispering in my ear whilst he held me firmly in his grip, not letting me go.

   A gentle nibble on the delicate skin of my neck made me jump abruptly, slamming my palms into his chest again.

   “Don’t!” I hissed furiously, but he leaned in deeper, trailing the tiny kisses down my neck. “Zayn! I swear, you-” He grasped my hands with one of his as my words failed me, and placed them against his chest, before moving them down to his stomach.

   I could feel how firm his chest was through his t-shirt and as I momentarily gave into temptation and curled my fingers against the etched curve of his abs, he made an approving noise into my neck. That’s when I realised how messed up this was.

   “Zayn,” I murmured, trying to catch his attention but instead he took it like an encouraging moan and moved his lips under my jaw, making me crane my neck. “Zayn.”

   “Mm?” he hummed, pulling away finally and pressing his forehead against mine. His hands resting either side of my stomach started shifting up, brushing past the hem of my shirt. His skin was rough and warm, skimming against mine with his tantalising touch. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to control myself.


   The two of us jerked apart instantly and Zayn let out a heavy breath. He stared at me suddenly with unfocused eyes, looking extremely confused like he didn’t even realise I’d been there. He opened his mouth, then shut it, blinking distractedly.

   “Zayn, what’s-” I began uncertainly, but he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he ran another hand through his dark hair. He gulped heavily.

   “Shit. Shit.”

   Then he turned and walked out, briskly like the only thing he wanted was to get as far away from me as possible. I heard him traipse down the stairs and I leant back against the sink, breathing in deeply. I didn’t blame him.




A/N- Guys I'm sorry I haven't updated in like months...I've been busy drowning under what feels like an ocean of homework and a busload of senior year grief. Forgive me! I hope to continue with this story still, so please stick with me! This chappie's pretty long too...see how much I do for you? jk :) *WARNING* it's a tad mature, so read at your risk. nothing too bad. nothing too bad. yet.

comment/favourite/like guys PLEASE IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME! tell me what you think about ANYTHING seriously, i don't care. thanks bebsicles :) <3

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