Passion '3

New York City is the city where dreams are bound to come true.
But what happens when Emily Hawthorne realise that her dreams and love-life doesn't fit as perfectly together as she had hoped?


7. Boiling Water and Kitchen Floors

No one's P.O.V:

"You want a cup of coffee, tea, anything?" Emily shouted from the small kitchen, where she was boiling hot water in a pot. She had changed her dress with a t-shirt, her thong with a pair of undies and her stilettos with a pair of wool socks. Her apartment wasn't very warm, since she barely heated up because of much it costed. Luckily, she had a warm duvet and lots of blankets. She usually drank a lot of hot tea, and wore her wool socks to keep her feet and hands from freezing. She had never fancied pants, so she'd rather freeze a bit, than put on anything to cover her legs. 

It hadn't taken long after Zayn's arrival before they had fled up the stairs, leaving the dark streets behind and found safety in her apartment. It wasn't big, but Zayn managed to find it very lovely. However, they would be forced to be close to each other in a small apartment, and being away from luxury didn't bother him the slightest. He felt more relaxed here than in any rooftop hotel room. He was walking around her room, letting his eyes and fingers wander over everything. Some of her drawers were open, and clothing were hanging from the edge of them. He could tell that she had been trying a lot of clothes on, before the dress she had picked. That one was now lying on her bed, a bed that looked rather comfortable. A bed that Zayn couldn't wait to lie in with Emily by his side. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts and hadn't heard her call the first time. He had been too busy taking everything in. Standing in a room as normal and yet far from normal, made him feel a feeling that he couldn't quite place. It was close to happiness, close to the feeling of home. It was a feeling that he told himself that he wanted for the rest of his life, and a feeling he was sure that only she could give him.

"Babe?" Emily's voice managed to rip him out of his thoughts. He fast turned around, facing the door where she stood, her head resting against the doorframe and a little smile dancing across her lips. "What are you thinking?" She asked, glancing around the room, before looking back at him. "I know it's small and such! And I don't have a lot of fancy things or a television or a coffee machine o-" 

"I love it," He fast cut her off. She breathed out, relieved. She shouldn't have doubted whether he would or not, but somehow pulling him into this life again, made her uncomfortable. She wasn't exactly sure if he would like it or hate it. After all he had gotten used to big flats, expensive cars, king sized beds, wonderful views and everything that she couldn't afford. Even though he always reminded her how much he adored and loved her, she couldn't help feeling like she just was some ordinary girl who had a bit too big dreams.

"I'm glad you do, it... Means a lot," She admitted. He didn't get to say anything before she remembered the boiling water, and fast straightened up and mumbled "Shit." She span around rushing into the kitchen, with Zayn closely following her. The water was boiling over the edge of the pot. Emily fast turned the heat down, removing the pot from the cooker. 


Zayn's P.O.V:


A chuckle escaped my lips as I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. She tensed up, "Not now, I need to clean it up!" She muttered, trying to sneak out of my grip. I tightened it, and placed my chin on her shoulder.

"It's just water..." I whispered, gently pressing my lips against her neck. I could feel her breathe out and relax in my arms. She was quiet for a few seconds, before she spoke up again. 

"But I need to clean it up," She was talking in a low voice. She sounded as if she didn't have a choice, like she had to. "I was going to make some tea but most of the water is on the floor now an-" 

"It's okay, you really worry too much." I wrinkled my forehead slightly. She seemed tense, and I didn't know what to do to make her relax. It was just water, but somehow it seemed as if it meant a bit more too her. Like she had failed at something, which wasn't the case at all. 

"At least let me clean it up," She this time managed to sneak out of my grip. It didn't take more than a few seconds before we both were kneeling on the floor, with paper towels in our hands. After a short while, she sat down on the floor and looked at me through her lashes. She put the paper towel aside and apologised, followed by saying, "This isn't very romantic." 

I gazed up at her, leaning my head a bit to the side, "You know what I think?" 

She wrinkled her forehead and shook her head a little.

"I think this is very romantic." She didn't get to react, before I leaned closer, pressing my lips against hers. I moved closer, grabbing her legs and sweeping them away under her. I carefully placed her on the floor, her back pressed against the wood. As I had hoped, she seemed to let go of her tension once again. She gave in, kissed me back with the same passion and let her hands lock around my neck, forcing me closer. I crawled over her, placing my hands above her shoulders, beside her head. Her lips danced a long with mine for some seconds, before she teasingly let her tongue run over my lowerlip, before parting her lips slightly. I deepened the kiss, causing her to let out a barely hearable moan from the back of her throat. I smirked in the middle of the kiss, and raised my head, separating our lips. 

She was looking up at me with wide open shining eyes and a smile on her lips. She looked happy, and somehow that was more than enough for me. I wanted to ask if she would feel more comfortable moving into the bedroom, but I didn't get a chance before she quickly kissed me, just for a short second, but it was enough to shut me up. She removed her hands from my neck, just to grab the edge of her shirt and pull it over her head. I kept my eyes on her face, even though she wasn't wearing nothing but her undies. She had clearly taken her bra off when she slipped out of her dress earlier, no wonder, I knew how she disliked bra's. 

I fast came to the conclusion that the kitchen floor wasn't that bad after all. It didn't take long before our lips were pressed against each others again, and before I rolled around, until she was lying on top of me. Everything happened fast, and I was happy to know that I wasn't to only one that had missed being so close. It didn't take long before my shirt was gone, and she moved her lips down to my jaw. She kissed further down, gently biting onto my neck. I groaned out, grabbing her waist tighter. I guess she liked marking me, before she gladly left love bites  hickeys and kisses all the way down to my chest. I couldn't complain though. Her lips against my skin was enough to start a fire within me. A fire that spread through whole my body and ran through my veins. She had managed to make her way into my veins and I couldn't do anything about it. No matter how much I loved having her lips pressed against my skin, and having the tip of her tongue running lightly over my chest, I was craving something more. I wanted to make her mine, rather than being hers. I wanted to show her how crazy she drove me. 

Therefore we were soon in the position we started in, her on the floor and me on the top. Her hands were on the edge of my jeans, fumbling with the opening, but it didn't take more than some seconds before she had unbuttoned them and I had forced them down my ankles, just to roughly kick them off of me. 

And then she once again connected our lips, as well as our hearts. 




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