Love Conquers Evil

Charlotte is your average girl. Her and her best friend Dakota are looking for romance this summer - but when Charlotte meets Zayn Malik, the temperamental boxer who sees her as eye candy what will happen? Zayn claims her as his even though she doesn't agree. Will Zayn snap on Charlotte? Will Charlotte actually fall for Zayn? Does Zayn have real feelings for Charlotte? Discover the adventures that the two of them go on together while facing the world.

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10. The Morning After

I wake up with a pounding headache. It feels like the worst hangover I've ever had times two. I climb out of the bed and stumble down the hallway. I go into the kitchen and towards the cabinet that I saw Zayn take Aspirin from the night before. I pop three pills in my mouth and swallow them, hoping for a quick relief. 

I look at the clock and it reads 12:22 pm. I sit on the couch and rethink about everything that happened yesterday. I try not to really remember the alley attack, but everything else runs through my mind from Zayn saving me to him carrying me to his bed. I look down at myself and remember that I'm wearing his clothes. It occurs to me that one of the most scariest guys I know is one of the most protective guys I know. But that makes sense because it means he protects those who he cares about. What doesn't make sense however, is why did he protect me? He's known me for three days - there's no way that he could care about me in that little time. 

My headache doesn't seem to go away even after twenty minutes. But, I'm not sure that it hurts because I got hit in the head or because I can't understand Zayn. After getting tired of just sitting here I get up and make my way back to Zayn's bedroom. I stand in the doorway and just look at Zayn sleeping. He's still not wearing a shirt and the duvets only go up to his hips, making it impossible to tell what he's wearing underneath the blanket. 

After a minute of watching him sleep I head back to the kitchen. I figure even though I'm not sure how I feel about Zayn, I definitely want to thank him for saving me last night. I rumage through his fridge and take out bacon. I pull out the carton of eggs and look through all of his food items. I decide to make him bacon and eggs with hash browns and toast. 

The first thing I begin to make is the eggs. I make them over easy because I am unsure if he likes them that way. Then I cook the bacon because it will provide a good grease for the hash browns. I make lots of bacon because I love bacon and I'm sure Zayn likes it too. Once the bacon is done and the hash browns are cooking I put two pieces of bread into the toaster for Zayn - I'm not big on toast. By the time I'm done buttering the toast, the hash browns finish, so I put all of the food on two different plates (one for me and one for Zayn). 

I finish the breakfast by pouring a cup of coffee, adding milk and sugar, before placing everything I made on a tray and bringing to Zayn in his room. "Zayn, wake up," I whisper, shaking his shoulder. He lets out a groan and rolls over, away from me. "Zayn. Come on," I say a little louder. I shake his shoulder again. He reaches a hand up and grabs my arm, pulling me down to the bed. 

"What do you want?" He complains, still eyes closed. Now I'm laying on the bed with him - pressed right up against his chest. 

"I made you breakfast to say thank you for last night," I tell him, looking directly at his face, as I move my hand to press his chest and push myself away. His eyes open and search mine - for what I don't know.

"What time is it?" He asks me, releasing me so that I can get up. I grab the tray off of the nightstand and wait for him to sit up before I place it on his lap. 

"Almost one o'clock," I reply.

"This looks delicious!" He exclaims, taking a bite.

"Thanks, but it's really nothing," I shrug, going to pick up my plate and start eating. We eat together in silence, occasionally looking at each other but then always looking down at our plates. Once we finish I take both of our plates and bring them back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

"No. You cooked, I clean," Zayn comes up behind me and takes my hand, leading me away.

"No Zayn. I made it as a thank you. I clean," I argue, going back to the sink. Before I know it, I'm in his arms.

"I'm cleaning. End of story," He says.

"This story has a sequel," I counter, struggling to break free. His hold on me is gentle but firm.

"Absolutely not." He sits me on the counter. "Stay," He commands.

"I am not a dog," I reply beginning to get down.

"Damn it, would you please just let me do the dishes?" He exclaims, angry now and his eyes are dark. I nod wordlessly, scared of his mood changes. He turns without saying anything and begins cleaning the dishes as I sit and watch him from my seat on the counter. 

"Will you take me home now please?" I ask in a tight voice when he's done. He stops moving still facing away from me. I see the muscles in his arms tighten and watch as his knuckles turn white. After a minute he nods and walks out of the kitchen without saying anything. 

He returns a couple of minutes later with my clothes from the night before and I feel my face blush when he hands over my neatly folded undergarments and jeans. I head to the bathroom and change back into my clothes, slipping his T shirt back on over my head. 

I slip into my Toms and grab my phone from the table. He grabs his keys and waits for me at the door. Wordlessly we make our way out to his Bentley and he starts driving before my seat belt is on. 

"I'm picking you up at 6pm. Wear something nice," He says as I get out of the car. I look back at him and his face is completely serious.

"And if I don't want to go?" I ask.

"Doll, you don't have a choice," He smirks and speeds off down the street. God! Why is he so damn bipolar! One minute he is caring and sweet and the next he is dark and demanding! What am I going to do?

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