Too Much

They were so smothered in love they didn't have a chance to come up for air.

Trinity was an aspiring artist, quickly making her way up the ladder of fame. Maybe not in the way she expected--as she meets the world-famous Zayn Malik of One Direction, her journey of love and stardom is set along a path of joy and ambition. But she needs to know that not everything is like it is in the books and movies; there WILL be heartbreak and nothing is ever easy.


4. Chapter 4

I awoke to the sound of doors being opened and closed. Opening my eyes, I yawned, then sat up when someone kissed the top of my head. I looked around me in confusion; leather seats, a mini fridge, bowl of skittles . . . it could only be a limo. I rubbed my eyes and tried to remember where we were. The restaurant with Kobe . . . chicken alfredo . . . Zayn . . .


I looked beside me, and, miraculously, he was right there, chuckling at me.

I frowned. "What?"

"You're so cute when you wake up."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. "We gonna go or what?"

He laughed, then took my hand and led me out of the car. Still half-asleep, I stumbled across the sidewalk till he traded his hold on my hand for one on my waist. I loosely clutched at the back of his white shirt, my strength not yet returned.

He led us into the hotel and up to the elevators, nodding at the person at the desk. I leaned heavily against his side, but he didn't seem to mind; and either I was dreaming or I was just crazy, but he seemed to like it.

No, I told myself. He wants Scarlett.

But, my brain argued, if he wanted Scarlett, then why did he seem so uncomfortable with her when you first met?

I don't know, I told my brain.

I sighed. Zayn looked at me in confusion, but I just ignored it.

Finally, we reached the level their rooms were on. Zayn led me into the one closer to the elevators, where I plopped down onto the bed, on my back, still exhausted. He went into the walk-in closet.

"Mm," I groaned, turning my head to the closet door. "How long was the car ride?"

I heard some fumbling, and objects being moved, then Zayn appeared, walking out, shirtless, checking his watch. I raised my eyebrows.

"Uh . . . a half hour? I don't know, we live right outside of town. . . . What are you staring at?"

I blinked like nothing was wrong--one of the manyh things I had learned to do at home.

"Nothing," I said coolly.

He frowned. "Okay . . . well. I'll be out in five."

I smiled. "'Kay."

He hesitated, then walked over to the side of the bed, supporting himself with his arms as he leaned down close to my face.

"You like what you see?" he breathed, his cool breath fanning my face.

I searched his eyes. "There's no way you're leaving until I say yes, is there?"

He laughed. "Nope."

"Then I really like what I see."

He stared at me, then got up and walked away. "Fucking tease," he muttered incredulously, loud enough for me to hear.

I laughed. 

Yes, I thought. That's how I'll do it. Flirt only whne he does. Only when necessary.

"Did I hear a swear?" I heard Harry ask as he walked into the room.

"Sorry, Harry," Zayn called from the bathroom.

"Zayn," he said disapprovingly. "You know I hate cussing."

His head popped out of the door, toothbrush visible in his hand. "I'm so very sorry. I'll try not to do it again."

Harry just shook his head.

As soon as the door closed again, he sat on the bed. "So," he said conversationally.

I sat up; I've heard this tone before.

He shook his head again. "That boy spends more time on his quiff than anything, I swear."

"No swearing, Harold." I smirked.

He just rolled his eyes.

"How tall is it?" I asked, genuinely interested.

Harry scoffed. "Six centimeters."

I shook my head in amazement. "Wow."

There was something missing. From Harry. Something about him just seemed . . . different. Not the Harry I knew.

"Harry, are you okay?" I asked, worried.

He frowned in confusion. "Yeah, why?"

I shrugged. "Thought you'd be flirting by now." I grinned.

His turn to shrug. "When Zayn tells you to do something, you do it. You can't argue with him."

I was confused. "So he told you to stop flirting?"

He grinned. "Why, do you want me to?"


He shook his head. "Not entirely. Just with you."


He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

I nodded, frowning. "I'm confused," I whined.

Harry shook his head again. "You Americans. All you do is whine."

"Hey," I defended, hitting him with a pillow.

He just laughed. "You'll see," he sang, jumping off the bed and walking to the door. 

"Harry, tell me!" I begged.

"You'll see," he repeated, closing the door behind him.

I sighed frustratedly and fell back onto the bed, only to sit back up when Zayn came out of the bathroom, this time with a fitted black V-neck. He looked at the door, then at me.

He frowned. "Where'd Harry go?"

I shrugged. "He just left."

"Oh . . ." He smirked and sat next to me, running his hands through his hair.

"Zayn," I mused quietly, looking at the red bed sheet. That name was special. I knew it meant "beautiful" but in what language?

"Yeah?" he asked as his head snapped up.

I looked at him. "Oh, nothing. I just like your name. Never heard anything like it, on a person, anyway."

He smiled. "Thanks. I like Trinity, too. The first I've heard of in a long time."

I returned the smile. "Thanks."

We sat in an awkward silence for a bit.

"Do you have ice cream?" I asked, half to fill my empty stomach and half to hear his voice again.

He laughed. "But you just ate!"

I rolled my eyes. "There's always room for ice cream."

"Or French fries," he added, standing up and walking over to the mini fridge.


"What kind?"


Zayn rummaged through the freezer and came up with Blue Bunny Dreamsicles. I rolled my eyes.

"Sorry," he apologized, smiling sweetly. "It's the only kind I have at the moment."

I smiled back. "It's fine."

He tossed me the box. "Eat it all up," he said carelessly. "None of the boys will know. Not that they like it, anyway," he added in a low mutter.

I laughed and started eating.

He watched me eat the popsicles, something I was not aware of till I turned my head as I whipped my hair out of my eyes.

"What?" I asked.

He smiled slightly. "You're really beautiful."

I blushed, but rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right."

"No, it's true!" he insisted, raising his eyebrows and leaning forward. "You're so pretty, I don't know why you don't think so."

"Maybe because I know you're after someone pretty like Scarlett." Okay, so that was a lie. She wasn't pretty at all.

"Scarlett?" he asked, surprised. I nodded, still eating my ice cream. "No, no, Scarlett . . . we don't really . . . like her."

I laughed. "Then why are you together?"

"We're not."

"Oh, really?"


At this point, our heads were so close I could feel his cool breath, still minty. We stared each other down. I searched his eyes, looking for some truth in there.

But, sadly, truth was all I saw.

Someone barged through the door. "Hey, can someone tell me w--oh."

I looked at the boy who interrupted us. He smirked.

"Well, well," he said. "Sorry to intrude."

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, I thought, it's becoming a habit around these boys.

"What do you want, Louis?" I asked.

"Just wanted to know if any one of you two could tell me whether or not you think zebras are stupid. Everyone else agrees so," he added, looking down and frowning.

I laughed. "Well, Louis, I think they're wonderful."

His head snapped up. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I love zebras. I've always wanted one . . ." I mused.

He smiled brightly. "Thanks. Zayn?"

"No, Louis, they're not stupid. They're cool," I heard him say.

Lou's smile got even bigger. "Thanks, guys, you're the best." He shut the door behind him.

I sighed and finally looked at Zayn; his head was down, and he was frowning.

"What's wrong?" I asked softly, touching my fingertips to his clenched fists as I continued eating my popsicle.

He didn't answer at first; he just bit his lip. I didn't remove my fingers, however; his hands were soft. They felt nice.

Finally, he looked up at me. He took my hand in both of his and played with my fingers. I finished off the ice cream and put the stick aside.

"Why do you think there's something between me and Scarlett?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged. "Because of that day at the elevator. She seemed really into you and you had your arm around her. Signals, Zayn. They weren't that hard to catch."

"I was only giving her a sympathy hug. Her boyfriend broke up with her."

"Then why were you two there, together?" I pressed my point.

"I had a meeting, and she did, too, and that just happened to be in the same building. We met up in the hallway, and I didn't want to seem rude."

Made sense. I did wonder what talent she could possible have, though.

"Well, she seemed pretty into you," I pointed out.

"Which is why I'm not into her," he said simply.

I frowned. "Why?"

"She fangirled in my face when we first met. I find that annoying. And then she wouldn't stop talking about how famous and hot we were. Major turnoff."

I chuckled. "Well, you're lucky I didn't know what you all looked like." I grinned.

He smiled back. "So am I forgiven?"

I pretended to think about it. Then I grinned again. Also a habit, I noted, but only around Zayn.

"You're forgiven."

"Do I get a hug?" he asked hopefully.

I laughed. "Of course you do."

He smiled brightly and hugged me tightly. God, he smelled good.

We didn't pull apart right away; he didn't seem willing to. But after a few moments, he finally did.

"I like your hugs," I blurted out.

Zayn smirked. "Why?"

I shrugged. "You smell nice."

He laughed. "Thanks. You do, too."

I smiled, committing his laugh to memory.

"So," I said, trying to make it less awkward--for me, at least. "What are we doing today?"

He thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. "Whatever you want, I guess."

My turn to think. "How about we go sightseeing?"

He scoffed. "Sightseeing? In Blackswell? What's so great here that you have to photo of?"

I shook my head. "Not Blackswell. I meant, other parts of the country. I heard it's quite picturesque, plus I've never been to London."

He seemed surprised; his eyebrows raised. "Never?"

"Nope." I popped the p.

"Well, then, come on!" he urged, taking out his phone and dialing a number as he pulled me up. "Paul, get the limo," he said into the phone. "We're going to London."

He ended the call and dragged me out into the hall, barging in on the other boys' room.

"Let's go," he said loudly.

"Where?" Harry asked, pulling on a shirt and walking towards us.


"Why?" asked Niall.

"Just--nevermind! Come on!"

They all grumbled as Zayn dragged me down the hall. I didn't argue; at least he was holding my hand.

Sick, I told myself. You're sick.

Shut up, he's single.

I sighed. I need a life.

We all climbed into the limo. This time, I sat between Zayn and Liam.

We sat in silence and confusion. Harry and Louis were next to each other, of course, blasting I Want.

I rolled my eyes.

"I want to be loved by you!" Harry shouted.

I laughed with everyone else. It's a good song, I'll give them that.

Unconsciously, I began humming along, tapping my fingers against Zayn's leg where my arm was resting. I saw him smile a tiny smile.

After I Want, they played Everything About You, and I sang along. Especially to the second verse.

"Yes, I like the way you smile with your eyes. Other guys see it but don't realize that it's my, my loving. There's something about your laugh that makes me wanna have to. There's nothing funny, so we laugh at no-no-nothing. Every minute's like the last, so let's just take it real slow, forget about the clock that's tick-tick-ticking. I still feel it every time. It's just something that you do. Now ask me why I want to."

We all burst in the chorus, a boy band and a solo artist, five boys and one small girl. We did harmonize, it sounded pretty good, and it felt right. Singing with Zayn, I couldn't feel more comfortable. He seemed to like the sound of my voice, urging me to sing louder. I smiled and stopped singing, listening to his beautiful voice. 

I was instantly depressed, and I didn't know why. Probably the sound of his voice. I wouldn't be able to hear it as clearly after today. Stupid autotune, I internally blamed.

"Whatcha frowning so hard about?" Louis asked.

All eyes turned to me.

I was confused. "I was frowning?" I asked, biting the inside of my lip.

They all nodded. 

"Huh," I said. "Guess I didn't notice."

Zayn hugged me around my shoulders. "Don't worry, be happy!" he sang loudly, causing me to laugh.

I hugged him back, grateful for another opportunity to present itself. I breathed in his scent. I didn't want to let go.

Thankfully, he never did; he just hugged me around my waist, and I did the same to him, and we stayed like that.

"So, are you two, like, dating?" Louis asked with a smile.

I rolled my eyes. "Friendly hugs aren't that much to ask for, Lou."

He pretended to pout. "Then how come you don't like hugging me?"

"I never said that!" I protested.

"Well, you sure act like it," he muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.

"Awww, Louis," I said, gently unwrapping myself from Zayn's embrace to hug Louis.

He laughed and hugged me back. Then I went back to Zayn, whose arms were still slightly outstretched. 

Cuddling against him, I checked my phone. Apparently, I had six new contacts. 

I raised an eyebrow and looked up at Zayn. "Your doing?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Well, while you were asleep, I took the liberty of exvhanging contacts."

"And just how did you figure out my unlock code?"

"It wasn't locked. . . . Not that it needed to be, anyhow. I watched you put it in." He smirked.

My mouthed formed an O as I gasped. I hit him playfully on the chest. "Zayn Malik, that was not cool."

Unexpectedly, he leaned down so that our faces were inches apart. My heart stopped.

"I like the way you say my name," he breathed, only for me. I stared into the depths of his eyes, the only response I could come up with.

He stared back. His eyes seemed to see right into my soul, past any acts I put up. I felt as though I could do the same; his eyes were very easy to read. For me, at least.

His eyes flashed down to my lips. "Are you ever going to tell me your last name?" he asked, looking back up into my eyes.

I pressed my lips together, considering keeping him hanging off the cliff for a few more hours. I bit my lip, then smiled. "Ross," I murmured, looking at his lips and then back at his eyes.

He grinned. "I like that," he said.

"I like your name, too," I said softly.

His smile got even more genuine, if that was possible. It made me smile, it was so beautiful.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, his tone still soft.

"Do what?" I frowned.

As if forgetting my question, he smiled again. My lips pulled up on their own.

"That!" he exclaimed, pointing at my face. "That smile. Every time I do, you do. What's up with that?"

I bit the inside of my lip, a habit around Zayn. "I don't know," I admitted. "I don't do it on purpose, though."

"Me neither." His face was a bit serious.

I smiled, and he smiled back. "See?" he asked. "I don't mean to do it, it just . . . happens."

I giggled. He was so cute.

Cute enough to be your next boyfriend, my brain said deviously.

I wish, I told myself.

"Are you flirting with me?" I asked him.

He smirked. "Just a little."

I smiled back. "Well, you should do this more often. It's nice."

"Trinity?" he asked, suddenly serious.


He bit his lip, thinking about something, before his eyes met mine.

"What would you do if I kissed you right now?"


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