Maybe

(Niall and Zayn)
When bestfriends Simran & Mollie meet two boys on the tube, will something more become of it? Or will heartbreak be the only thing left?

Maybe.

Will their past change the future? Will their future affect the present?

Maybe.

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33. Stars

***Simmie's POV***

After dinner with Mollie and Niall, Zayn and I are sitting on the balcony. He sits on a deck chair, me on his lap. Looking over the horizon, the sky is burning, the sun leaving a wake of pink and orange as a souvenir of today.

As the sun sets, waving goodbye to us, the stars twinkle above us. Millions of them, shining forever.

Night settling around us, Zayn pulls me closer.

“Princess, you free tomorrow?” he mumbles into my hair, breaking the comfortable silence.
Pushing myself up on his chest, I look at him and reply with a lopsided smile,”Baby, I have to go to work. I also have to clean the bathrooms. It maybe Friday tomorrow, but Friday doesn't start until Saturday for me.” I smile. Curious, I add, “Why?”

He shifts me in his arms, so we're face to face, chest to chest. “I wanted to take you to the cinema, princess, dinner and then a few beers at mine. Date night.”

I laugh at the last bit. Looking back his face, he has humorous confusion etched on his face; his brows drawn together and his lower lip stuck out in a pout. Bouncing small kiss of his pout, I lean back, biting my lip.
“Okay, but pick me up after six please.”
Pulling me closer, he nods and I snuggle into him, finally content.

***
After a while, he carries me bridal style to my room.

Placing me on my bed, laying me down flat on back like I'm the most precious thing he has, he takes of his shoes to join me. Shuffling up the bed, I lay my head on my pillow, grateful I brought a double bed. He lies next to me, on the other pillow.

Turning on my side, I wince before smothering into a forced smile. Returning back to my back, I swallow back the pain. Closing my eyes for a few moments, wishing the pain away, I open them to Zayn hovering over me. His arms are either side of my head, his legs caging mine. I look up at him, a wave of embarrassment and modesty crashes over me.

Using one hand to tilt my chin up, he kisses me long and slow. His lips run over mine; his kiss is filled so many unanswered questions. Pulling back, I sigh and decide I should tell him.

Pushing myself up so I can lean back on the pillows, I accidentally push my chest into his face. Great move(!) He moves back so I can get comfortable. Looking back at him, I see the wide eyed look he gives me, his eyes full of hunger and lust. Now isn't the time to say this. It's just a fling, why should I invest all my sordid past into this?

Crooking my finger at him, he crawls to me. Straddling me, I ran my hands up his belly, gently brushing his chest before pushing his jacket off. Leaving him in skinny leg jeans, faded blue, dangerously close to ripping at the knee and a black Pink Floyd tee, I roll him off me, pressing him into the mattress. He runs his hands, up my body, starting my knees, drawing lazy circles up and down my body. I ran my hands over his.

He turns the table and gently lies me back on the bed. He looks behind him at the clock above the door. Noticing the time, I tell him I need to sleep, I have to be up at half-past seven for work tomorrow. He smiles sweetly at me, before jumping off the bed. He turns around to face me as he pulls his tee shirt over his head, looking at me the whole time. I bit my lip a little, run my fingers back through my hair. He groans, eyes smoldering black and brown. His hands drop to his fly and I immediately look away. Dragging myself from my bed, I walk to my dresser. Catching a glimpse of Zayn, topless with his jeans undone and his boxer band peeking over the top was enough to make me stop and stare. He locks his eyes with mine in the mirror,  smile, and he smirks at me. Shooting him a cheeky smile and blowing him a kiss in the mirror, I quickly continue to my dresser. Grabbing an old tee my dad gave me when he traveled to Alabama, I take it and walk into the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, I splash water on my face and brush my teeth. Stripping down to my underwear I put my tee on and French-braid my hair. Tossing my clothes in the wash on the way, I walk back to my room, the door clicking shut behind me.

Turning around to face my bed, I see Zayn folding back the covers before settling himself in. He's shut my curtains, my lamps creating a cozy ambulance to the room. Smiling, he walks over to me and picks me up, roping his arms under my knees and carrying me bridal style. Settling me on the bed, he turns out one of the lamps. He excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

He's back within a few minutes and he smiles down at me. He gathers my body to his, his arms careful of my ribs. His chest is crushed to my face and our legs entwine naturally, our bodies finishing the dance as old as time. He kisses my forehead and whispers 'goodnight princess' against me before reaching over me to turn the second lamp out. I whisper 'goodnight baby' into the darkness.

***

I wake up to an empty bed. Not having enough time to wonder why, I get up and run into the bathroom. Showering and brushing my teeth, I get ready to straighten my hair. While my straighteners heat up, I get dressed. Pulling on my underwear, I towel-dry my hair. Deciding against straightening my hair, I turn them off and unplug them. Summer's just going to make it curly again so why bother?

Pulling up my pencil skirt over my white blouse, I forego pantyhose; it's too hot. I slick on my makeup from the top drawer of my dresser. Slipping on my black ballet pumps (it's too hot for Doc Martens) I take a glance in the full length mirror before wandering out to the kitchenette for breakfast.

Wandering out I smell bacon on the air. My stomach growls angrily in response. Rounding the corner, what I see stops me in my tracks. Zayn. Topless. Cooking.

What?

 

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