We'd walked alone in near silence, the only noise being the clunking of Zayn's heavy army style boots. As we walked he lit another cigarette, sucking in the poison heavily to blow elaborate designs into the night sky.
It was mind-blowing how effortlessly sexy he was. I knew that he knew he was attractive and he played it up to get things he'd want. I couldn't stop the dirty thoughts about him that continually forced their way into my brain. I could feel the sexual tension in the air as I tried my best to keep my hands off of him.
As we arrived to my front door, I unlocked the handle, feeling the burn of Zayn's eyes into my backside. When I opened the door I was relieved to see no one home, hoping that Marissa wasn't in bed sleeping.
I walked in and threw my house keys onto the counter. "Well, this is it," I said as I extended my arm to show him our small and cozy apartment. "It's not much, but I can make up the couch for you. Let me see if I can't get some extra sheets from my roommate." I said as I walked towards Marissa's room.
I knocked on her door before entering, only to find Marissa not in her bed. She must not have come home. I smiled, knowing that Zayn and I were alone in this apartment. Just us two. I grabbed some extra sheets she had in her closet and walked out to the living room.
"Uh, my roommate isn't here, but I know she wouldn't mind you borrowing these sheets. So . . . uh, here," I handed him the sheets, helping him to make his bed for the night.
"Thanks," he said and I could immediately smell the poison he'd inhaled earlier on his breath. His lips were awfully close to mine and my eyes wandered towards them. They looked soft, plump and I had the desire to kiss them. Then he smiled, which caused my eyes shot up to his instantly.
"Uh . . . goodnight Zayn," I said, feeling the heat gather in my cheeks. I was already basically a stuttering mess and we were still fully clothed. What would happen to me if we slept together?
He leaned in closer to me, grinning, "goodnight love." I'm pretty sure British men know exactly what their accents do to us girls. I was inhaling his scent. He smelled of cigarettes and whisky. He smelled damn good. He was still grinning at me, and then he leaned in closer to plant a wet kiss on my cheek.
He turned around, leaving me to overanalyze what'd just happened. His arms crossed to have each hand pull the sides of his shirt over his body. I stood in awe as I watched him expose all of the skin on his back. His muscles were defined. His shoulders were broad. His back was arched even though he was standing perfectly straight. On the back of his neck, near his hairline he had a tattoo, although in the dark I couldn't quite make out what it was of.
When he turned around I stared in awe. His body was very sexy and I'd wanted to ravage him. My eyes made their way up and around, left and right, and back again, making sure to soak in every ounce of what was standing in front of me. When my eyes made their way down to his v-line I bit my lip and nearly whimpered, only to look back up at his face to see him smiling down at me.
"Uh . . . uh . . . goodnight, yeah . . . goodnight," I said both hurriedly and nervously, practically running from him to my bedroom. I could feel his dark eyes watch me as I closed my door to prepare for bed.
When I closed my door, I leaned against it, breathing heavily, trying to calm myself. Everything Zayn did was so erotic, but so dark and mysterious. He came off as cocky, but I know it was his personality. He knew he was sexy as hell. He waited for the girls to line up one by one for him.
I knew he'd never date me. I knew that if I went out there and grabbed his rough, calloused hand and dragged him to my bedroom, that he'd leave me laying naked and ashamed in my bed alone in the morning.
I knew all of it was bad. I knew he was bad. He was bad news. I knew that I shouldn't have stayed at the tattoo shop. I shouldn't have invited him in. I should just leave him be, and make my life better without this boy. But there was just something about him that had me hooked. It was like a drug, and I needed him.
But my typical self couldn't muster up the balls to do anything about it. And so I wiped these thoughts from my brain, and I walked to my closet. I put on my usual sleepwear, shimmying the short shorts up my legs, and slipping into a comfortable tank top. I washed the makeup from my face. I brushed my teeth. I checked my phone one last time before crawling into my warm blankets.
I fell asleep awfully fast, it being so early in the morning and my body being tired. I didn't wake until I felt someone in the bed with me. I figured it was Marissa, and so I sat up in bed and turned towards the clock, not even looking at her, my eyes closed, my hands rubbing the sleep out of them. I opened my eyes to look at the green numbers. It was nearly five in the morning.
"Ugh, Marissa are you drunk again? C'mon let me take you to your-" when I turned around my lips stopped forming words. I couldn't speak. We sat there speechless, my lips trying to form words. Him seductively smirking at me, laying there with no shirt on. I turned towards him, still sitting on the bed.
"Zay-" and then I felt those plump lips on mine, tasting the puff of his latest cigarette. I felt his rough hands grab the back of my neck, deepening the kiss. My hands naturally went to his hair, weaving it through my fingers. I moved in closer to him, pulling the sheet over top of our bodies which were already tangled up in each other.