Fake It

"Please. It's one ball."
One ball too many.

Being slightly famous with an even more famous family is kind of a hard ship when you don't want anything to do with them. For Layne Avery, this ball was the very last thing she ever wanted to go to, but when a very unexpected visitor comes and asks her for a favor, she says yes. Layne isn't fit for the royal life, or maybe she is. You tell me, but you first you have to read Fake It.


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17. Seventeen

 

Layne woke up with a start. The onslaught of images came back to her vividly. She had a horrid nightmare. They were quite frequent nowadays. She can never remember them anyway, so she didn't think to tell anyone. But, Zayn knows. How could he not? She moves the whole freaking bed when she wakes up. And, usually, he's in bed with her to rub her back until she snoring loudly in his ear. 
​​​
Yet, tonight, he planned on working on some documents. He told her not to wait up, so reflexively, she fell right asleep. But, after that nightmare, She couldn't get back to sleep. She reaches out to her right, where Zayn usually, and proceeds to freak out. She lets out a bit scream. 
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She searches around the guest room they were still occupying for her phone. It, of course, was dead. She goes to leave out the room, when Zayn comes back in.
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She took a step back, covering her mouth with her hand. When her fingers were gone a second later, she breathed out, “When you said you'd be gone for a while, I-i thought that you'd be back sooner. But you-you took so long and I was worried. And It was cold and y'know how much I hate cold bed sheets and I had a nightmare and...” 
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With her hair a disarray around the contours of her cheek, Zayn could tell - even in the dimly lit corridor - that she was tired. Her hands were shaking, her fingers thrumming against her hip, and She was muttering under her breath and breathing hard, cursing at him, moving her hands forward so she could push at his chest and rest her forehead against his sternum because she had been so fucking scared. 
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Zayn lurched towards her. “Shh, shh,” he hushed her gently, his heart pounding as hard as hers felt against his body heat. “Fuck, ‘m sorry, so sorry, babe, I should’ve - shhh.” 
"You’re back," she whispered against the side of his neck, squeezing her arms tightly around his middle that he was. "That’s all that matters, you’re, you’re back - " Her voice trailed off and cracked at the end. 
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"Don’t worry," he soothed softly. His fingers scrunched into the hair at the nape of her neck. "C’mon, it’s alright now, I’m back. Let’s just sleep." 
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Not even two minutes later, he was down to his boxers and was curling his arms around her waist, waiting for her heart to stop beating so heavily with her palms pressed anxiously to his face. 
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It was hard to be scared when he was there, when he had her wrapped up in his arms. 
--
Later, they were practicing dancing again. Hana said something to Layne about how she sometimes looks like a dying penguin when she dances. It, of course, made her frustrated so she dragged Zayn all the way to the party hall.
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"Do you think we could get away with-"
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​​"I think I love you but I’m waiting until I’m sure to tell you," he blurts out, and then it’s in the open air, and she's looking up from her shoes to look at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. 
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"You love me?"
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He didn't respond. Only looking behind her head.
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"Y-you can't be in love with me, Zayn. That wasn't supposed to happen."
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"Then what was supposed to happen? We get married, have kids, never gain feelings in the process? Is that it?"
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"Yes! That's exactly what's supposed to happen! We knew, when we met, that this was arranged! That's all it was ever supposed to be!"
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"That's not how things work, Layne! It's not!"​
"In this scenario, that's what should happen."
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"Fine! If you can tell me, truthfully, that you don't have a single ounce of feelings for me, then I won't ever say that to you again. I take back all feelings I ever had for you."

​​​​​
Feelings, as is there are more then one. Tears brim her eyes at the mere frustration he's causing he.
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"I... You sick son of a bitch, you did all of this on purpose because you know I can't-"
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And he kisses her, his lips pressing away any other words she was planning on saying. His kisses are quick and chaste and nothing too... anything. Just sweet, fleeting kisses.
"I love you, Layne, and I don't expect you to say it back,but it doesn't mean that I don't mean it. Because I do, every word of it." 
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And she just blinks up at him, mouth agape and no words coming out of it. Swallowing, she soon coughs out an, "I'll keep that in mind."
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He laughs at her, obviously proud that he did that to her, made her a little hoarse and dizzy. He kisses her again, with a little bit more force behind it.
--

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