Don't Tempt Me

I had everything going for me until my father died when I was 11. He tucked me in, he kissed my forehead, he gave me hugs, and he was my number one supporter. Now all I am is a bad girl. I used to be a good girl like the ones I would make fun of now. I don't care what people think of me wearing those short shorts that showed my smileys or wearing those low cut shirts that made it known that I had boobs. I hear them talking in the halls sometimes in my way to class. Comments about me weren't always bad. And there is no way in Hell my reputation could ever be turned around.

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25. Maia's POV

I woke with Zayn holding me on top of him. I pulled my knees up so they laid on either side of Zayn's hips. I kissed his neck softly, pecking all the way up to his lips. He quickly readjusted and wrapped his arms tighter around me. He sat up into a sitting position as my legs straddled around him. In one swift movement, he flipped us over so I was beneath him. As I bit his lip, he ground his hips into mine. Instantaneous, my stomach went crazy-forget butterflies-there was a whole jungle in my stomach.

"I really adore being woken up this way," he said as we separated. "Could you-"

I didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence as I brushed my lips against his tempting him to kiss me again. Our lips were locked for what felt like forever until we knew we had to stop. After him opening up to me the slightest bit today, I think I should at least include him in my sob story of a life and why I am the way I am.

I stopped kissing him and spoke softly, "I feel like I should tell you my story after you telling me apart of yours."

"You know you don't have to do that, right?"

"I know but I felt like you should know. To start, Let's just say I had everything going for me until my father died when I was 11. He tucked me in, he kissed my forehead, he gave me hugs, and he was my number one supporter. Now all I am is a bad girl. I used to be a good girl like the ones I would make fun of now." Well that could have been smoother. Pretty rough around the edges. It didn't even sound like me when it came out of my mouth...I guess I'm just used to it now.

"Are you okay?" He asked evidently shocked at how cruel and unaffected I seemed after talking about the subject.

"If you don't mind if I ask, but how did your father die?"

"Zayn! Are you serious you won't even tell me about a past relationship and yet your expecting me to talk about my fathers death..." I'm a coward...it's just such a touchy subject.

"I'm sorry," he looked at me and tried to touch my cheek, but I refused to let him touch me.

Something inside me still can't open up to people or have people get to close. It's unsettling and all I really want now is to go home. What is wrong with me? I tell him I'll open up, yet I can't and go off on him like it's his fault. I'm such a bitch! Aren't couples supposed to talk things out and talk about their past? Something's wrong with me mentally. I feel tears streak my face and press my palms to my eye sockets. Zayn pushes my head down onto his chest and I lay their and cry for what felt like hours. As I start to quiet down, I hear Zayn's small snores and detach myself from his grip. I grab a pair of new clothes and go to take a shower.

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