You had me at hello - a Zayn Malik fan fiction (not famous)

19 years old Irene has a normal boring life in Italy, until the day she leaves for the U.K. with her best friend Alice. There, she meets Zayn, the most beautiful boy she has ever seen.
Love, friendship, jealousy and drama mess up Irene's new life, giving her the chance to find what she has been looking for.


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25. "You're beautiful"

“Tell me something I don’t know about you!”

Zayn speaks, with his eyes still closed. His head is placed on my legs, and he’s laying on his side, holding my hand with one of his.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, sleeping beauty!” I say caressing his dark hair.

“Tell me one of them!”

I hesitate, thinking of what I can tell him. Zayn opens his eyes and glances at me, waiting for an answer.

“…I love animals!” I blurt out. “And…I’ve always dreamed about travelling around the world to study animals in their natural environment…about being able to film them maybe!”

Zayn listens to every word I say, carefully, looking curious and involved. Having someone that listens to you, looking at you with such interest, is fantastic. I really needed this.

“It’s you turn now, mr. Malik!” I lightly squeeze is hand, while he giggles tenderly. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

For a second, Zayn turns serious, and lowers his gaze. His eyes linger on our intertwined fingers: he stares at them, while a melancholic smile appears on his lips. He presses his fingertips on my skin, almost hurting me, as to stop me from letting go – even if I don’t even think about doing so. His look is so deep I can’t stop wandering what’s going on his brain right now. He can be the sweetest person on earth but sometimes his eyes seem to hide something, as if he had thoughts he was scared to express. I really want to be the one he opens up to, one day.

“I’m selfish as fuck.” Zayn voice comes out lower than the usual.

“What?” I turn serious too, and lean my head towards his.

“I can be an asshole sometimes.” He goes on, still keeping his eyes locked on our hands.

“Everybody does!”

“No.” he declares. “Not Liam or Harry. Not you.”

His eyes look so sad by now. He seems like he’s struggling with a part of his personality he hates, but can’t erase.

“Bad people don’t know they’re bad!” I say, touching his head with my hand.  I’ve never wanted someone like I do now.

Zayn raises his gaze and looks at me, still serious. He scans my face with those eyes that have been hunting me in my dreams for nights and nights. My heart is in my throat right now, racing as hell.

“You’re beautiful, Irene.” He whispers, while getting his head up from my lap and kissing me, grabbing my head with his hand. We kiss passionately, our souls almost fusing. He slowly pushes his torso on mine, pressing me against the wall. All my body is eager to come in contact with his. I wrap his shoulders with my arms, squeeze him, touch his neck and rub his skin, wishing to stay like that forever. He puts his hands on my hips, slowly coming up. When his fingertips touch my breast, I can’t stand the excitement anymore. I push him back, and we lay down on his bed, not detaching our lips, not even for a second. He’s above me, pressing my body with his warm torso, his hands running all over my body while our tongues go on playing, without any rest.

Suddenly, Zayn breaks the kiss and lifts his head, staring at me. He’s eyes run from my begging eyes to my breathless mouth, than back to my eyes again. I try hard to read his thoughts: he look serious, thoughtful, desirous, worried, turned on, captivated.

“Zayn…” I whisper really quietly.

Just when my heart is starting to break in a million pieces, he kisses me again, this time even harder, as if he is trying to communicate with his body and his lips what he is not able to express through words.

Zayn starts raising my shirt, passing his palm on my belly-button, my stomach. I take my shirt off, remaining with just my bra on. Then, I take Zayn’s shirt off too, and stop for a while, in order to admire his perfect silhouette, his chiseled chest, his tattoo, his little necklace hanging from his neck, his stomach, his hips, his belly-button, his lower abdomen. We go on kissing as I avidly grab his neck, and lower a little from the bed, so that he easily inserts his hands behind my back and unties my bra. In a matter of second, his hands pass from my chest to my hips, and play with the buttons of my jeans and my underwear, until I’m completely naked under him. I unfasten his belt and free him of his jeans. I feel his excitement against my pubis, and as soon as I take off his boxers, we start making love, becoming like one thing, melting and fusing into each other’s arms, gasping and moaning in pleasure, until he becomes part of me and our sweating bodies lay on the sheets forceless, still hugging and kissing each other.

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