Safi Evangaline

@saffron-evangaline

18 posts

he hadn’t expected to see saffron there, but if he was honest, he was going to enjoy every second of it. they had a past, they were too similar to ever really work, and still, he loved having her around just to catch that spark she carried with her, he loved the messiness. "i wasn’t looking at you when you walked in," he pointed out, his hand holding his drink as he gestured toward a blonde across the bar, "i was checking that girl’s ass," he added with a smirk, taking a sip of his drink. "pick me? i don’t need to beg for people’s attention," he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "but thanks for the description, i’m glad you still notice," he winked at her. "just a wanker? stop flirting with me, saffron, we broke up, get over it," he said, taking another sip, "even if it’s hard, have you seen me?" he lifted the hem of his tank top slightly, "too good to resist," he smirked. he leaned further against the counter, knowing their interaction had only just begun. "not fucking up anyone’s life, just got back from shooting," he added, "can’t promise i didn’t fuck someone’s life up back on the island, guess they couldn’t handle me," he shrugged. "i see more tattoos, one for each level of toxicity you’ve unlocked?" he smiled, leaning in slightly, "you wear it like a fragrance."

saffron-evangaline

Saffron didn’t even glance at the blonde he pointed out. Her eyes stayed on him. “Mm,” she hummed, unimpressed. “Why would you bother? You don't ever do anything with ass you've had in the past." At his comment about her noticing, she let out a soft, amused breath through her nose. “Oh, I notice everything,” she said bluntly, tilting her head slightly. “Doesn’t mean I care. Don’t confuse the two, it’s embarrassing.” When he lifted his shirt, her eyes dropped, slow, intentional, taking her time before dragging back up to his face. There was a pause, just long enough to feel like a reaction, before she smirked. “Cute,” she said flatly. “You still think lifting your shirt like a horny little teenager is your strongest asset. I can see you haven't changed a bit." At the mention of her tattoos, she glanced down at her arm, then back at him, completely unfazed. “If that’s what it takes for you to keep count, sure,” she said coolly. Then, after a beat, her gaze sharpened, dragging over him with a kind of deliberate scrutiny that felt almost like a challenge. “And you still lean in when you talk to me,” she added quietly. “Funny for someone who thinks he's got over me." She straightened just slightly in her seat, cradling the vodka in her hand. “Careful,” Saffron finished, her tone light but edged. “You’re starting to sound like you missed me and I'll break your ego down into little pieces because I'm not interested." Saffron’s attention snapped away from him without warning as she pulled out her phone, thumb moving quickly across the screen. A second later, a soft, genuine giggle slipped out, rare, unguarded, and gone almost as quickly as it came. She glanced up at him, that same sharp smile returning, but now there was something more self-satisfied in it. “I got me a good guy for once.” She tilted her head, smile curling a little meaner now. “Ten outta ten. Great in bed.” A pause, eyes flicking over him deliberately. “And, way bigger than you.”

saffron was too close. zayn couldn’t focus, not with her hands on his chest, her fingers in his hair, or her nails tracing slowly along his jaw. she was intoxicating in the best way possible. he didn’t want to pull away, and even if there was something dangerous about her confidence, he was willing to ignore it just to stay this close to her. “i mean it,” zayn promised with a sly smile. when her gaze locked onto his, he didn’t look away—he couldn’t. he wanted to lose himself in those pretty brown eyes, wanted more, wanted everything she was willing to give him. when she said that if he had a girlfriend she would’ve convinced him she was nothing compared to her, he swallowed hard. he had never met anyone so straightforward before and, if he was being honest, he liked it. “i saved you time then, i guess,” he shrugged lightly. his hands stayed on her sides, resting against her waist, wanting to keep her there as long as he could. his attention dropped to her fingers as she undid the first button of his shirt, his heartbeat pounding hard enough he was sure she could feel it beneath her touch as her hands drifted lower across his chest. when she challenged him to stop holding back and put his hands all over her, he smirked softly. one hand slid from her waist to the back of her neck before he crashed his lips against hers. at first the kiss was slow, almost hesitant, like he needed a second to convince himself this was actually happening, but then he gave in completely. his other hand moved to her chin, thumb brushing gently against her lower lip until she parted them for him, deepening the kiss. he could hear whistles and teasing somewhere behind them, but he didn’t stop. he just wanted the rush of it, all the passion and danger wrapped up in her. even then he still held back slightly, somehow staying gentleman enough to keep one hand steady on her waist while the other cupped her face like she was something precious.

saffron-evangaline

Saffron let him kiss her like he had something to prove, lips curving faintly against his when she felt the hesitation melt into hunger. Her hands stayed where they were, one tangled in his hair, the other sliding slowly down the open line of his shirt. When the whistles sounded behind them, she only smiled into the kiss, clearly entertained by the audience. It wasn’t until she decided she’d had enough that she broke away, just barely, leaving only a breath between their mouths. “Well, well, well,” she murmured, eyes sweeping over his face like she was admiring her own handiwork. “There he is.” Her thumb brushed over his lower lip where she’d kissed him senseless, then she gave his shirt another casual tug, opening the second button this time. “Took you long enough to stop behaving.” She stepped back half an inch only to look him over properly, gaze dropping to the hand still resting carefully at her waist. Her brow arched. “And yet,” she said softly, teasing dripping from every syllable, “you're still handling me like I’m delicate.” Her other hand slid beneath his jaw, nails barely grazing his skin as she tilted his head back toward her. “You kiss great,” she added with maddening confidence. “But I like you even better when you forget your manners. Gentlemen on the streets and freak in the sheets energy." Then she kissed him again first this time, slower, deeper, deliberate enough to make it clear she wasn’t something precious to be protected. She was something dangerous to be ruined by. “I can deal with love bites,” she murmured, voice low and honey-slick. Her nails dragged lightly down the side of his throat to his collarbone, leaving only the promise of marks instead of the real thing. “I can deal with fingernail claw marks.” Then she tilted her head, brown eyes locking onto his with wicked amusement, confidence shining in every inch of her. “Can you?”

charming might as well have been hayes’s middle name. he knew exactly how to make people notice him, how to tip the balance of a room without raising his voice. if he wanted to be loud, he could—but most of the time he didn’t need to. a look, a half-smile, the right words at the right moment were usually enough. it was a skill he had turned into a job, really; reading people, giving them just enough of what they wanted to keep them close. and hayes lived well because of it. he was hot, and he knew it. leaning casually against the bar, his less-tattooed arm rested on the worn wooden surface while the sleeve and the snake winding along his other arm stayed perfectly visible under the low lights—just enough to catch wandering eyes. he took a slow sip of his drink before his attention landed on someone across the room. his lips curved slightly as he looked them over, like he’d just spotted something interesting. “well,” he said smoothly, lifting his glass a little, “i wasn’t expecting to see you here.” it didn’t matter whether he actually knew them or not—hayes had a way of making it sound like he did.

saffron-evangaline

Saffron had noticed him the second she walked in. Of course she had. Hayes had always been impossible to miss, leaning somewhere like the room belonged to him, the tattoos she'd given him catching the light like he’d positioned them that way on purpose. She took her time finishing the sip of her drink before looking over at him properly, letting her gaze drag slowly over the snake tattoo and the stupidly confident half-smile he was wearing. God, what a wanker. But her mouth curved anyway. “Is this the part where I’m meant to pretend you didn’t already see me walk in?” Saffron finally turned her head fully toward him, eyes sliding over him again in that deliberate, assessing way. “Still doing the mysterious bar lean, I see.” She gestured vaguely toward him with her glass. “Very brooding. Very tortured. Very pick me I'm that desperate." Her lips curved into a slow, playful smirk. “Unfortunately for you,” she added sweetly, “I already know you’re just a wanker with good lighting.” There was no real heat in it, just that familiar toxic hatefulness they’d always had, the kind that made it hard to tell if they were flirting or fighting. Saffron tipped her glass toward him in a mock toast. She leaned her elbow onto the bar then, resting her chin lightly against her knuckles while studying him with open amusement. “So,” she added, voice light but pointed, “which poor girl or guys life are you fucking up now?”

zayn was dancing to whatever tune saffron wanted, doing basically everything she asked without much resistance, and the worst part was that he didn’t even want to fight it. there was something about her that made him want to soak in every second. “i can give you all the control you want,” he promised, his arms wrapping around her waist, maybe liking the closeness a little too much. when her lips hovered near his ear he felt goosebumps run down his neck and spine, and as her hips rolled again his hands slid to either side of her waist, holding her there—he wasn’t sure if it was to keep her close or to stop her from doing that again. “i wasn’t expecting you to do that,” he admitted, glancing down at her, already knowing this was a battle he’d lost. when her fingers tangled in his hair he was sure of it. the moment she pressed her lips to his his eyes widened briefly before fluttering shut, both hands firm on her waist as he kept her close. when she pulled him nearer he let out a soft hum against her lips, the kiss better than anything he had imagined—hesitant at first, then closer, warmer, like something he’d been replaying in his head for days. when she pulled away and covered his mouth with her hand his gaze dropped to her lips as she licked her bottom lip, every tiny movement impossible for him to ignore. her hands slid down his chest, fingers hooking into the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment he wondered if this was some kind of fever dream he never wanted to wake from. “no,” he answered simply, voice low, eyes still on her. “i’m all yours.”

saffron-evangaline

Saffron smirked, letting the heat in her gaze lock onto him, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. She pressed just a little closer, the press of her hips against his deliberate, teasing, daring him to resist even if he wanted to. “Mhm,” she murmured, voice low and velvety, brushing lightly against his ear. “I like that answer. I like having control sometimes." Her fingers slid through his hair again, tugging just enough to make him shiver, her lips hovering over his jaw before brushing against it teasingly. “But don’t get too comfortable,” she whispered, a soft, sexy warning laced in her words. “I’m not done with you yet.” Saffron’s hands moved with intention, tracing the lines of his chest. Her smirk widened as she watched his eyes darken, watched his body respond to hers like she could see every thought before he even had it. She pressed her lips to his briefly, teasing, almost taunting, then pulled back just enough to let him catch his breath. “No backing out,” she murmured, letting her fingers hook into his shirt again. “You said you’re all mine good. Because I plan to make sure you mean every word of it." Her gaze was steady, confident, and daring, holding his with a challenge he couldn’t resist. Every movement was calculated to keep him on edge, wanting more, caught between anticipation and surrender. Saffron tilted her head, lips curling into a sly, mischievous smile as her fingers traced lightly over his chest. “No girlfriend?” she murmured, voice low, playful, dripping with confidence. “Shame, you're hot.” She leaned in just a fraction closer, letting her breath brush against his ear. “I was just about to convince you that she wouldn’t be shit compared to me, anyways.” Her smirk deepened as she pulled back slightly, letting her gaze roam over him, daring him to react. Saffron’s fingers hovered at the top of his shirt for just a moment before slipping inside, undoing the first button with a deliberate, slow motion. Her gaze flicked up to meet his, smoldering, daring him to protest. Then, with a teasing smirk, she eased the second button free, letting the fabric part just enough to reveal the smooth skin beneath. Saffron leaned in just slightly, letting her lips hover near his ear, breath warm and teasing. Her fingers brushed along his chest again, slow, deliberate. “You have full permission,” she murmured, voice low and sultry, “to do whatever you want to me.” She let her hand trail teasingly down the edge of his shirt, letting her gaze lock on his. “Your hands don’t have to stay there,” she added, words heavy with promise and challenge, daring him to take control, to test limits she was clearly offering. "I like it when they end up everywhere else."

as they stepped onto the dance floor, he chuckled at her comment about him surviving the night. “i’m glad i am,” he replied lightly, his hands settling on her hips as the music pulsed around them. when she leaned in close enough for her warm breath to brush against his jaw, he had to steady himself, even if every instinct in him reacted. at her words, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “i never said i didn’t like being out of control,” he murmured. “i’m pretty sure you just assumed that.” when her hips rolled against his, his grip tightened instinctively at her waist, a low exhale slipping past his lips. this was going to be a long night—he could already tell. as her hands trailed up his chest to his collarbones, he looked down at her, eyes darker now. “maybe i did,” he admitted quietly. when she closed the last inch of space between them, he wrapped his arms fully around her waist, pulling her in. he caught the way her gaze dipped to his lips, noticed every small movement, and just as the tension threatened to snap, her hand slid to his side and her hips rolled again, making him bite down on his lower lip. at her question, zayn shook his head slightly. “i wasn’t expecting that,” he confessed. “but you’re full of surprises.” his hands drifted lower along her back, resting just above her hips now. “i think there’s something else you want to do,” he added softly, voice rougher than before, “i just don’t know why you’re stopping yourself.” his thumb brushed lightly against her side. “was that the answer you were waiting for?”

saffron-evangaline

Saffron felt the shift in him before she saw it, the way his breath changed, the way his hands grew surer, heavier on her hips. It made her smile, slow and knowing. She tilted her head slightly at his confession, lashes lowering as if she were considering something dangerous. “Assumed?” she echoed softly, her tone laced with playful disbelief. “Please.” Her fingers skimmed down from his collarbones, tracing an idle path over his chest as if she had all the time in the world. “You don’t look like a man who minds losing control. from time to time” When his arms wrapped fully around her waist and pulled her in, she let him, easily, willingly, her body molding to his like it had always belonged there. The bite of his lip didn’t go unnoticed. Nothing about him went unnoticed. She leaned closer, lips hovering near his ear now, her voice lowering just enough to make him focus. “Full of surprises?” she murmured. “You’ve only seen the beginning.” Her hips rolled again, slower this time, deliberate. Teasing. Testing. She felt the roughness creep into his voice when he suggested she wanted something more, and that made her grin against his skin. “Oh, I definitely want something more,” she admitted, fingers sliding to rest lightly at his sides, nails grazing just enough to leave a whisper of sensation. “But where’s the fun in giving you everything you want all at once?” Her gaze lifted to his, bold and unflinching, heat simmering there. She let her thumb trace lazily along his jaw before she leaned in just close enough for her lips to ghost near his. “Stopping myself,” she repeated softly, almost thoughtfully. “Maybe I like watching you wonder how far I’ll go.” She pulled back just slightly, barely an inch, keeping him suspended in that tension. One hand slid up the back of his neck, fingers tangling lightly in his hair as she tilted her head just enough to make him follow her movement. “I’d start with something like this…” And then she kissed him. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Slow. Her lips brushed his once, a testing press, before deepening, softer at first as if she were savoring the moment she’d made him wait for. Her other hand tightened slightly at his shirt, pulling him just a fraction closer as her body fit against his, hips aligning with his in a subtle reminder of everything she’d been promising all night. She let the kiss linger just long enough to make his earlier confidence feel fragile, then she eased back, barely an inch, her breath warm against his mouth. A satisfied, playful glint flickered in her eyes, as she licked over her bottom lip. Then, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, her brows lifted slightly. “Oh, ” she murmured, feigning innocence far too convincingly. “I forgot to ask.” Her hands slid from his chest down to rest at his waist again, fingers hooking lightly into the fabric of his shirt as she swayed with the music, keeping their bodies close. Always close. “Do you have a girlfriend I have to fight?”

hudson had warned him about her—everyone who knew her had—but there he was, ignoring every sign. he wanted the date to work, even if that meant giving up the little control he had over anything and handing it all over to saffron. he wasn’t in charge, and somehow that didn’t scare him the way it probably should have. “thanks for being this polite,” she chuckled, and he shook his head at her words. “i don’t think i’ll survive you, i’m just here to see how this goes,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, trying to swallow down his worries. “we’ll see if i thank you,” he challenged, even though he already knew he would. as she reached out, her fingers brushing his jaw, his jaw clenched, dark brown eyes locked on her like nothing else existed. when her fingers slid to the back of his hair, he leaned in slightly, already done for. but just as he thought she was going to kiss him, she pulled away, stepping back, and he let out a quiet sigh. he was so dead. she stood up, and zayn’s eyes followed her, every move feeling carefully planned. when she passed him and brushed her ass against him, he thought he might actually lose it. he reached for his drink again, needing more liquid courage, but she caught his hand and tugged him gently along. “anything,” he murmured, following her to the dance floor. once there, he placed both large hands on her hips without hesitation, smirking down at her as if he still had any control at all.

saffron-evangaline

Saffron laughed softly when he followed her so easily, the sound low and satisfied, like she’d already won. She turned in front of him on the dance floor with deliberate slowness, letting the music settle into her hips before she looked up at him. “See?” she said lightly, eyes sparkling. “You’re doing great. Still alive.” His hands found her hips, confident, grounding, and that just made her smile wider. She leaned in close, close enough that her breath brushed his jaw, but she didn’t rush it. Saffron never rushed. “You say that like you don’t like being out of control,” she murmured, voice smooth, teasing. “But your hands are telling a very different story.” She rolled her hips once, testing him, then once more, slower this time, fully aware of the effect it had. Her fingers slid up his chest, stopping just short of his collarbone. Then she leaned back just enough to meet his eyes properly, confident, glowing under his attention. “But let’s be honest,” Saffron finished, grinning. “You followed me out here because you wanted to see what I’d do next.” Saffron stepped in closer, closing the last inch of space between them until they were chest to chest, the music threading itself through her body and straight into his. One arm slid up and around the back of his neck with easy ownership, her fingers resting there like they belonged. She tipped her head slightly, eyes lifting to meet his, and then, slowly, deliberately, her gaze dropped to his lips. She lingered there just long enough to make the moment ache before looking back up at him again. Her free hand settled at his side as she moved with him, hips rolling softly, unhurried, letting their bodies find a rhythm together. She stayed close, intentionally so, every breath shared, every movement felt. “So,” she murmured, eyes lifting to meet his before drifting, unapologetically, to his mouth, “tell me…” Her gaze lingered there, teasing, patient, utterly confident. “What is it that you’re waiting for?”

zayn had heard the stories; his best friend had made sure he knew exactly who saffron was. and even if a part of him was terrified of her, there was this other part that actually thought he could win her over and survive. it was crazy. they were both playing her game, and she was the only one who knew the rules, yet here he was—totally willing to lose. "you warn me, but at the same time, i bet you’re dying to tell me about this challenge," he said, trying to play it cool as he leaned his shoulder against the bar counter. "i wouldn't expect anything less from you," he confessed, a smirk playing on his lips. saffron was a show—one you had to watch from a distance if you didn't want to get burned—but everything she did was so precise it made zayn wonder if she was even real, or just some dream his head had invented. "i bet i wouldn't be the first person to thank you for ruining their life," he mused. it wasn't an accusation, just an observation. "maybe that’s just what you get from me," he added. he wasn't hudson; he couldn't play the bad guy. he could try, but deep down he knew that wasn't him, and he couldn't keep the facade up for long. every word that left her lips was enough to make him fluster, though he was glad he was at least decent at hiding it. as he felt her fingers graze his jaw, his muscles tightened. her words left him speechless; he had nothing to add, just a mix of awe and desperation. he had to stop himself from reflexively saying "sorry" to her. "sure," he nodded instead. when her fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his neck, he got goosebumps all over. "i don't think i even need to answer that. i’m pretty sure you already know where my head's at," he mused softly. "and we both know what i want isn't what matters. we’ll do whatever you want, because that’s just how your game works." with her hand on the back of his neck, he wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss her, but he didn't move. that wasn't part of her plan, and he knew it. he was completely helpless.

saffron-evangaline

Saffron watched him with a slow, knowing smile, the kind that said she’d already decided the outcome before he’d even finished speaking. She leaned an elbow against the bar, posture relaxed, utterly in control, eyes flicking over his face like she was committing every reaction to memory. “Oh, I’m not warning you,” she said lightly, voice smooth and amused. “I’m just being polite enough to let you know what you’re walking into.” Her lips curved. “And you’re right—I do love a challenge. Especially when someone thinks they might survive me.” At his comment about ruining lives, she laughed softly, head tilting. “Ruining is such an ugly word,” Saffron replied. “I prefer rearranging priorities of which I become the number one one.” Her gaze sharpened, playful but dangerous. “People tend to thank me eventually and tell me that I change their lives for the better." When he admitted that maybe that was just what he got from her, her smile softened—just a fraction. “Good,” she said simply. “I don’t need you pretending to be something you’re not.” She reached out then, fingers brushing his jaw deliberately, just long enough to feel him tense beneath her touch. She hummed when he agreed so easily, clearly pleased. Her fingers slid into the hair at the back of his neck, thumb resting there with intent. She held him there for a beat longer, close enough that he could feel her warmth, her presence—then, just as deliberately, she stepped back. She rose from her seat, smoothing her hands down her mini-dress sides as she stood, every movement unhurried, intentional. As she passed him, she brushed against him on purpose—hip, thigh, shoulder, ass —enough to make it impossible to ignore. Then she reached back, fingers curling around his hand, tugging him gently toward her. Her grin turned wicked as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Come on, Zaynie” Saffron said, voice bright with promise. “Dance with me?”

saffron was many things — pretty, challenging, smart — but the thing that kept zayn wanting more was the way she carried herself, like she owned every room she stepped into, and he’d been hooked since second one. “a challenge,” he hummed. “what kind of challenge do you want?” he asked, trying to sound steady. when her hand slid under his chin, he could swear his heart stopped. she was dangerous. “i have potential? i think i can do that,” he mused, pretending he wasn’t flustered out of his mind. she was too good with words; she had him unraveling just by promising things. “i’m pretty sure you can make anyone do whatever you want,” he admitted, fully believing it. that smile, those eyes—everything about her pulled him in, and when she leaned just a fraction closer, he thought it was going to happen. her fingers brushed his jaw, light enough to make every nerve in him stand at attention. “you could ruin my life and i’m sure i’d thank you for it,” he murmured. he cleared his throat. “ready to thank you already? so far you’ve done nothing,” he tried, attempting to shift from flustered to confident, failing miserably. he watched her take a slow swallow of her drink, his gaze dragging down her neck, watching her lips, and his stomach tightened. how could someone turn drinking into a damn performance? she was dangerous by design, he was convinced. “because even if i’m dying to taste you, i’m a gentleman—deep down, at least,” he said. with a sudden spike of courage, he leaned in close to her ear. “if what you want is for me to look down at your tits, this isn’t the place,” he breathed, dropping the words like a challenge. then he pulled back, grabbed his drink, and took a sip—not to tease her, but to drown how nervous she made him.

saffron-evangaline

Saffron was many things—pretty, a smart ass, annoying—but the part she liked most was watching him flounder just trying to keep up. She leaned just a fraction closer, letting her eyes hold his in a silent challenge. “Careful, I wouldn't ask if I were you,” she warned, her voice low, teasing, “I’m dangerous by design. And I like to win.” She leaned back, letting him squirm under her scrutiny. She took a slow sip of her drink, deliberately slow, each motion a show for him. She knew what she was doing. She'd practiced flirting with guys more than anything else. “You’d thank me for ruining your life?” Saffron’s voice was soft, almost a purr, but there was an edge to it. She leaned in just enough to let the heat of her presence brush against him, eyes glinting with mischief. “Sweet, delusional, but sweet,” she murmured, letting the words hang between them like a promise—and a warning. “Who said I want a gentleman?” Saffron leaned back, letting the corner of her smirk tilt upward, eyes glinting with mischief. She tapped her finger against her lips lightly, mock-considering, before letting her voice drop just low enough to make him shiver. “I taste good, by the way.” Every word was deliberate, teasing, and dangerous—she wasn’t flustered, she was performing, and he was already hooked. Every tilt of her head, every slow blink was a reminder: she controlled this game, and he was already playing by her rules. She tilted her head, letting her fingers graze his jaw lightly, enough to make him pause. “If I wanted you to look,” she said, slow, deliberate, dangerous, “I’d tilt your head and make you look.” Her smirk was razor-sharp, daring him to argue. “So don’t get ahead of yourself.” Saffron reached up, fingers threading through the back of his hair. She let her eyes roam over him with a teasing glint. Every inch of her said it without words: I do what I want—and you follow. "Where is the place, Zayn?"

zayn noticed the smirk tugging at her lips—it was impossible to miss that she was enjoying herself. “not as smooth as you,” he murmured, half teasing, half admitting defeat. hudson had warned him about her—the way she worked people, how effortlessly she could read and reel them in—but none of that had prepared him for this. for her. the way her fingers brushed lightly against his arm made something in him short-circuit; every instinct screamed to stay right there, in her orbit, for as long as she’d let him. “you think i’ll just give you what you want?” he asked, raising a brow, though his voice wasn’t nearly as steady as he wished. ordering their drinks had already been a bold move—describing her the way he had, giving her that nickname—it had slipped out smoother than he expected. his gaze flicked from the bartender back to her, unable to help himself. “i’m not going anywhere,” he promised quietly. “why would you ever have to share me?” his tone dropped just slightly, the tease almost intimate. “i bet you’re more than capable of keeping my attention on your own.” and it was true; she already had him hanging on every word. “am i?” he echoed when she accused him of flirting, pretending not to know, even though he absolutely was. then her hand was under his chin, tilting his face toward hers, and the world just stopped. no one had ever done that to him—so casually, so confidently—and yet he couldn’t imagine wanting her to stop. her eyes burned into him, and he felt himself melt beneath that steady, dangerous gaze. “you don’t scare me,” he said, though the tremor in his chest betrayed him. he was scared—but not of her. of what she made him feel. “i do like it,” he confessed, voice softer now. “no one’s ever had the confidence to do this before.” he drew in a slow breath, gaze flicking down to her lips for a fraction of a second before finding her eyes again. “and honestly? i feel like it doesn’t matter what i say—you’ll do whatever you want with me anyway. and i’ll probably thank you for it.”

saffron-evangaline

Saffron’s smirk widened, slow and deliberate, the kind that made it impossible for Zayn to look anywhere else. She laughed softly, that smoky, playful sound that seemed to curl around him. “Zayn,” she said, leaning closer so their faces were inches apart, “you’re cute when you’re flustered. But trust me — I’m not here to play nice. I like a challenge.” Her hand slid under his chin again, tilting his face just slightly as she let her gaze roam over him, sharp and hungry. “Scare you? Please,” she teased, a dark chuckle escaping her. “I don’t scare you?” Her smirk softened into a teasing grin. “You’ve got potential to keep me on my toes. That’s more than most people can manage.” Her fingers lingered just a fraction longer before pulling back, though the tension didn’t leave the space between them. “And don’t worry,” she added, letting her voice drop into something intimate and sly, “I don’t need anyone to share your attention. But I do love seeing you squirm when you realise I can make you feel… whatever I want.” She leaned back slightly, the smirk never leaving her lips, eyes glinting with fire and mischief. Her presence was magnetic, dangerous, and flirty. Saffron’s smirk deepened, sharp and playful, as she leaned just a fraction closer, letting her voice drop into that low, teasing drawl that made Zayn’s chest tighten. “You’ll thank me for it?” she echoed, letting the words linger between them like a dare. Her fingers brushed lightly against his jaw, tilting his face up just enough to keep him off balance. “Oh, Zayn… you already sound like you’re ready to,” she purred, letting a slow, wicked grin tug at her lips. Saffron tilted the glass to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate swig, the liquid catching the light as she swallowed. She let out a soft hum of satisfaction, eyes flicking up to Zayn with that familiar mischievous spark. “Mm, not bad,” she murmured, licking her lips lightly. “Why are you staring at my lips by the way? My tits are down here!” she joked, the grin on her face impossibly wide - pointing right at them.

zayn had no idea what kind of spell saffron had put on him, only that it was working. his best friend’s warnings echoed faintly in his head, but the reality in front of him was louder—her confidence, the way she moved like she owned every inch of space, it was intoxicating. her words replayed in his mind: fun to play with. not fun, not charming—fun to play with. his brows lifted, half disbelief, half thrill. “fun to play with, huh? so others don’t give you what you want?” he asked, like he didn’t already know no sane person would dare deny her anything. she was blunt, dangerous, magnetic—and he was already stepping closer before he could stop himself. and then came that nickname, slipping from her lips like temptation itself. it threw him off balance, made his pulse jump. before he even had a chance to respond, she was already moving toward the bar, and he—like the idiot he knew he was becoming—followed. saffron leaned against the bar, effortlessly drawing the bartender’s gaze. hell, zayn was sure the whole room’s gravity shifted to her, and he was caught in orbit. her hand brushing his arm snapped him back into the moment, and he looked down at her, trying to breathe steady. “a strong filthy martini,” he ordered smoothly, then glanced down at her, smirk tugging his lips. “and an angel face.” the cocktail name rolled off his tongue like a secret, his tone husky, deliberate. his free hand slipped into his pocket as he leaned down, voice low just for her. “those two drinks might describe you perfectly.” then, pulling out his card, he tossed it onto the counter with easy confidence. “open a tab for me, buddy.” he wasn’t sure if he’d survive the night—but he already knew he’d let her destroy him if she wanted.

saffron-evangaline

Saffron’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile as she watched Zayn’s gaze flicker between her and the bartender. “Oh, you think you’re smooth, don’t you?” she purred, voice dripping with playful challenge, yet laced with a teasing edge that made him lean closer without thinking. Her fingers brushed lightly against his arm again, just enough to spark heat, and she leaned in, letting the warmth of her body press subtly against his. “Not everyone’s up for it… not everyone knows how to give me what I want.” Her smile deepened, part devilish, part vulnerable, as if daring him to prove he could. When Zayn’s compliment hit—those drinks, that nickname—her chest rose with a soft, teasing laugh. “Filthy and strong, huh?” she murmured, leaning closer, letting her hair brush his shoulder, the motion casual but charged. “Angel face… now that’s dangerously flattering.” Her voice dropped, almost a whisper, letting him feel the pull of her attention like a physical thing. She let her fingers slide down his arm slowly, teasing, needy just enough to make him wonder if she’d always been this intoxicating—or if tonight was her magic in action. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” she asked softly, almost coaxing, her lips curving into a wicked grin. “Because I don’t share well… and I don’t do subtle.” Every glance, every brush of her hand, every sultry tilt of her head was a deliberate play—devilish and flirty, hot and just slightly vulnerable, drawing him in, making him helpless to resist the orbit she’d created around him. Her lips curved into a wicked smile as she arched an eyebrow. “And paying for our drinks?” she murmured, voice low, sultry, and teasing all at once. “I’d say you’re flirting with me. Can’t get enough, Zayn?” Saffron’s fingers slid under Zayn’s chin, tilting his face up so he couldn’t look anywhere but her eyes. Her grip was firm but teasing, a challenge wrapped in sultry warmth. She leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping to a soft, teasing purr. “Do I… scare you?” she murmured, letting the words linger, her gaze sharp and daring, but impossibly magnetic. Her lips curved into a wicked, flirty smile, eyes glittering with mischief and heat. “Or… do you like it?”

Turning Point

She sat on the edge of the couch, knees together, hands clasped in her lap.

Sixteen, still in her school uniform — skirt a little too short for her father’s comfort, though it was regulation length. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to change before he started in on her again.

The living room was thick with his voice, his anger, that familiar feeling like the air was about to snap in half.

“You think you can walk around like that? Dressed like some goddamn—” He didn’t say the word, but he didn’t have to. It was always sitting there in his throat, like he was choking on it.

Her brothers were both there. Sat right there. On the other side of the room.

Neither of them said a word.

“You’re just like her,” their father growled, eyes sharp as glass. “Same look in your eyes. Same smug little mouth. Think you’re better than everyone. Think you’re too good to follow my goddamn rules..”

“I didn’t even do anything,” Saffron whispered.

“Don’t talk back.”

He stood over her now. Casting a shadow. Her heart was a trapped animal in her chest.

And still, her brothers said nothing.

Not even when he called her “manipulative,” “a liar,” “a slut”

That one landed like a slap. She was still a virgin.

She swallowed it.

Sat there, completely still, except for the shaking in her hands.

She realised something in that moment — something clear and cold and final.

They were never going to see her. Not as herself.

Not as Saffron.

Just as her — her mother, the woman who left. The woman he still talked about with spit in his voice. The woman who escaped and left her behind to wear her sins like a second skin.

She looked at her brothers.

Not one glance of defense.

Not one word.

Cowards.

Her chest burned, but her eyes stayed dry.

And something hardened inside her then. Quietly. Like cement setting in a cracked foundation.

Fine, she thought. If I’m going to be the villain anyway…

Then I’ll dress the part. I’ll play it better than you ever imagined. And I’ll make sure it kills you to watch.

That night, she threw out every "modest" piece of clothing in her closet. Started wearing eyeliner her father hated. Started saying yes to boys who looked at her the way he hated. Started becoming what he feared most: untouchable, unapologetic, and loud about it.

She didn’t flinch anymore.

And when he shouted, she smiled.

Because now, every time he looked at her, he saw his greatest failure. And that was the only kind of power she had left.

it was easy for zayn to tell saffron was the devil in a mini skirt and heels—the way she walked, the way she talked, she was dangerous, and there was no sign of her ever wanting to change that. she owned the room and she knew it. when she confessed that if she wanted to end him, he’d already be dead, he swallowed hard—not out of fear, but because somehow, that worked for him. the way she talked was hot. everything about her was. he couldn’t look away as she swayed her hips and leaned against the table, clearly doing it on purpose. "you’re difficult to ignore, but i’ll have to blame it on my bad game," he said with a crooked smile. he didn’t know how she managed to do everything and still look like a goddess—the goddess of chaos and hotness. he had no idea how he was supposed to survive the night when every word out of her mouth was calculated, deliberate. "i won’t say i’m not like other guys, what’s the point in that?" he shrugged, breath catching as her hand slid along his arm. he was really trying not to crumble at her touch, melting like she was fire and he was just wax. and he was sure she knew it. when she laughed at his words, zayn furrowed his brows. her plan was flawless—if the goal was to get his ass kicked. if she wanted to piss off her dad? perfect. but as she lined up her shot and sank the final ball, he knew this was a fast track to the er. "i’m a man of my word," he sighed, shaking his head. "i can’t back away now." he leaned over her, arms braced on either side, body brushing hers just enough to make his point. "tone the dangerousness down, or i’ll be sent straight to the er," he whispered in her ear before pulling back, retreating to lean against the pool table with a crooked grin. "do you want a drink?"

saffron-evangaline

Saffron didn’t need to try to be anything—she just was. Dangerous in heels, with a smile that promised either sin or destruction (usually both), she moved like she had the whole damn room wrapped around her little finger. She tilted her head, a slow, amused smirk playing on her lips. “Good,” she purred. “Other guys bore me easily. You, though…” she trailed off deliberately, eyes raking over him with interest that was just believable enough to burn, “…you’re fun to play with.” Then came that little whisper of warning from him. About how she needed to tone it down or he’d end up in the ER. Her grin widened, slow and wicked. “Baby,” she murmured, stepping just close enough to let her perfume cloud his thoughts, “you’re already halfway there. But if you’re lucky…” She leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “…I might kiss whatever hurts better." And just like that, she turned on her heel, hips swaying like she knew he was watching—because he was. They always did. When he asked if she wanted a drink, her response came with a toss of her hair and a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Sure,” she said sweetly, “but make it strong. I like my drinks the way I like my men—tall, dark, and a little reckless.” By the time he caught up with her, she was already leaning against the bar like a scene from a dream you weren’t allowed to have. She looked at him from under her lashes, playful and smug. The moment she stepped up to the bar, the bartender’s attention snapped to her like a magnet. His eyes went wide for a split second—then he was already wiping down a glass, looking to her with that mix of admiration and anticipation she got so used to. With a slow, deliberate turn, she pulled herself away from the bartender’s lingering gaze. “I got his attention,” she said smoothly, leaning in just enough to let her words brush Zayn’s ear. Then, with a playful glint in her eyes, she placed her hand on his arm, her fingers trailing down it in a way that made sure he felt every second of it. “Order up before he tries to hit on me.” Her touch was soft, but her words were like a playful dare—challenging him to step up, to take what he wanted. She leaned just a little closer, letting him feel the heat of her proximity. "Show him who's boss."

the way saffron walked, the way she bent over the table before taking her shot—it was obvious she was confident in her own skin, radiating self-assurance and danger all at once. she was precious like one of those exotic snakes, but dangerous enough to have you dead in seconds if that’s what she wanted. when he echoed his answer if he somehow managed to win, zayn felt the tips of his ears burn—did he sound too childish? “i’m sorry for being predictable,” he said, raising his hands in mock defense as he stepped back to give her space, though he was still too close, and she brushed past him deliberately, making him even more drawn to her danger. “in my defense, it’s not you distracting me, it’s me being bad at it, you’re just... another reason i can’t shoot straight,” he added, somehow sounding even lamer. when he missed his shot and cursed under his breath, it was definitely loud enough for her to hear. at her words, zayn looked over. “only if the answer is yes,” he tried to tease, though his brain was already fogged by her—all of her. the way her body moved, the way her eyes locked on the ball, the way she spoke... it was driving him insane in the best way. hudson had warned him about his co-worker, but saffron was more dangerous than he’d imagined—more attractive too. when she missed, a small part of him was relieved, even if he had no real chance at winning. but if losing meant getting that look from her—playful, sharp, dark—he’d lose every damn time. “we’ll see if i do,” he muttered, stepping closer, watching as she backed toward the edge of the table. there was no way he could focus. then came her part of the deal and he furrowed his brows before surprise hit. pretending to be her boyfriend in front of an ex-military dad who thinks no one is good enough? he swallowed hard. oh, he was screwed. and he thought a kiss would’ve been bad. he would’ve taken that gladly over whatever death mission this was. “so pretending to be your boyfriend to prove to your dad that you’re everything he warned you not to be? sounds like you want an ex-military guy to beat the shit out of me,” he summed up, his voice flat. “oh, great. loving this game,” he added sarcastically, looking away, only for his gaze to get pulled right back to saffron as she stepped closer. she was breathtaking. he tried to focus, stepping away just enough to line up his shot. he sighed, looked at the ball, then looked back at saffron like he was begging for mercy. then he shot—way too hard. the white ball jumped clean off the table, and some stranger kindly placed it back. “thanks, man,” zayn muttered, then turned back to saffron with a dramatic sigh. “end me already.”

saffron-evangaline

Saffron arched a brow as the cue ball went flying off the table, landing somewhere with a dull thud. Her lips parted in a slow, amused smile—sharp as a blade but sweet enough to make it dangerous. She didn’t bother hiding the way she watched Zayn squirm, not even a little. “End you?” she repeated, voice rich with amusement, soft and sinfully slow, as though she was tasting the words on her tongue. “Zayn, if I wanted to end you…” She leaned in, her breath grazing his ear as her voice dipped to a whisper, “…you’d already be dead. But lucky for you, I’m feeling generous tonight.” She pulled back just enough to let her gaze drag down his chest, then back up to his eyes with a flirtatious gleam that didn’t even try to be subtle. Slowly, lazily, she walked around him and back to the table. Every step was calculated—confident, grounded, with just the right amount of sway in her hips. “Honestly?” she said, resetting the cue ball with a flick of her fingers, “I don’t think you’re bad at pool. I think you’re distracted. Which, I mean… I don’t blame you.” She glanced at him with a flash of teeth, then bent over the table again, slower this time, perfectly aware of his eyes on her. “I’ve been told I’m… difficult to ignore.” Then she straightened, walking her fingers across the edge of the table as she approached him again. Her voice softened, flirtier, almost faux-sincere. “But I appreciate the effort. Really. Most guys crumble a little faster.” She brushed past him again, deliberately slow—just enough contact to make his breath catch. Her hand slid briefly along his arm. “You’re holding up surprisingly well.” Then came the deal. Saffron gave a soft, delighted laugh. It was low, unfiltered, and it made her eyes sparkle like she’d just been handed a game far more fun than pool. “Exactly.” She tilted her head. “See? You get me already. Let’s call it a little social experiment. You… playing the doting boyfriend. Me… showing Daddy that I am, in fact, still the worst decision in the room.” Her smirk deepened. Then she leaned in, letting her voice drop again, smoky and dangerous in the best way. “So?” she called over her shoulder, cue stick in hand, hips swaying. She leaned over - putting the last pool ball into the last hole. “You in, Zayn?"

there was something so mesmerizing about saffron. the way she walked, the way she talked, the way she always knew exactly what to do to keep him hanging there. "so you want the prize to be dangerous, good to know," he nodded—she was the dangerous one, too hot to handle and fully aware of it. "if i win, you'll kiss me," he mused, a sheepish smile on his lips, "that would be your favour," he smirked, "maybe you'll even let me win." when he said two could play that game, he was probably talking about teasing, because if he didn’t start sinking balls into the corners, there was no way he could beat her. then he walked toward her, and when she leaned over the table, zayn felt his pants tighten. the way her top rode up, the way she took that shot like it was the easiest thing in the world—it was flawless, effortless. but he couldn’t look away, not when her hips tilted like that, her ass somehow far away and close at the same time. he cleared his throat and straightened up as he asked if something was distracting him. "nothing at all," he said, his voice dropping lower with every word, like that might somehow sell the lie. "you’re just bluffing," he shook his head, trying so hard to focus on her face and not the way her hand slid down the cue stick. his pants tightened again and he had to move, walking past her just to get a grip, his thoughts racing. he lined up his next shot—six of his balls still on the table, only two of hers left—and leaned in, fingers a little shaky. the shot looked good, but instead of helping him, it knocked one of saffron’s balls closer to the pocket. "fuck me," he muttered under his breath. "your turn."

saffron-evangaline

Saffron tilted her head, lips curling into that dangerous, slow smile she wore like armor—and like a dare. She didn’t need to speak right away; her silence was a game in itself, letting him stew in the heat of his own distraction while she chalked her cue like she had all the time in the world. “A kiss for a win?” she echoed eventually, eyes flicking up to meet his with a wicked glint. “So predictable.” Her tone wasn’t mocking—it was amused, flirtatious, velvety with just enough challenge woven in. “You boys always want the same thing when you're losing.” She walked past him as he lined up, brushing too close on purpose, scent lingering like trouble. She felt his eyes, felt the tension in his stance. The way his voice dropped made her smirk even harder. Bluffing? Please. “Bluffing?” she asked, leaning one hand on the table, watching him from the side with hooded eyes. “Zayn, you’re the one who can’t shoot straight with me this close.” Her voice dipped, soft and dangerous like silk over a blade. Then he muttered "fuck me," after helping her ball instead of his. She arched a brow, stepping up beside him slowly, cue balanced lightly between her fingers. “Is that an invitation?” she teased, all honeyed danger and glossy confidence, brushing his shoulder lightly as she passed. Saffron lined up her shot with deliberate slowness, hips swaying just enough to keep Zayn distracted and off-balance. She leaned forward, the curve of her body all sharp lines and impossible softness, eyes locked on the cue ball like she was about to end the game right there. But when she took the shot, it clinked wide—missing the pocket by a hair. "Shit,” she muttered under her breath, low and annoyed—but only for a second. She exhaled through her nose, head dropping briefly before she looked back up at Zayn with a smirk that curled like a match about to light. Her voice turned teasing, dark and playful, her gaze dragging slowly up his frame before landing on his eyes. “Fighting chance, big boy.” She tossed the words at him like a dare, stepping just close enough for her presence to press against him without a single touch. “Got what it takes?” Her brows lifted just enough to challenge him, but her mouth tugged into that grin again—dangerous, magnetic, the kind that promised you’d burn and beg for more. Saffron tilted her head, twirling the cue in her hand like it was just another extension of her attitude. Her smirk widened, heat flickering in her eyes as she backed toward the edge of the table. "If I win…” She paused for effect, then pointed the cue at him like she was sealing a deal. “You’re pretending to be my boyfriend at a family party.” She stepped closer again, tilting her head just enough to look up at him through her lashes. “To annoy my dad.” Then, with a wicked little grin: “Good luck, lover boy. He’s ex-military and thinks no one’s good enough to join the family." She winked, turning away like the chaos she’d just dropped was nothing. “You better start practicing your ‘yes sirs.’” She leaned against the table, cue resting against her hip, fingers tapping absently along the wood. Her voice dropped—quieter, but still laced with that same wicked charm, like truth wrapped in thorns. “And side note…” she said, finally glancing back at him with a slow, dangerous smile, “he also hates my guts.” There was no bitterness in her tone—just a cool, practiced indifference sharpened by years of surviving it. “Thinks I’m everything I shouldn’t be.” She shrugged one shoulder like it didn’t matter, even if it did. Her gaze locked with his now, daring him not to flinch. “You’re gonna prove him right.” The words hit heavier than her usual teasing, but she wore them like armor, letting the weight sit between them. She stepped closer again, her voice softer but no less cutting. “He made me into this.”

zayn was honestly regretting starting that game, in fact, if he could go back, he would've asked her to do anything else but pool. he was sure he’d have more luck with a claw machine than with this fucking game. he wanted to toss the cue away—he was going to lose, and there wasn’t much he could do about it, saffron was just way too good. as she circled the table for her next shot, he was caught off guard by how close she got, her fingers brushing against his skin, making his breath hitch. his eyes locked on her as she smirked, and even though he wanted to look away, he couldn’t—she was mesmerizing. “you’re not kicking my ass, i’m letting you win, i’m a gentleman,” he said, a blatant lie, one they both probably knew, but he wasn’t sure if saffron would call him out or let it slide. “i’m not offering prizes, but we agreed to bet when we started playing, so i want to know if i should keep letting you win or go full serious mode,” he bluffed, a smirk tugging at his lips. her response came faster than he expected. “a favor with no question, that’s dangerous,” he said, nodding slightly as her words brushed past his ear, goosebumps breaking out along his arms and back. but if she thought she was the only one who could play that game, she was wrong. zayn leaned in closer to her ear, his voice low and teasing, “but i know how to play this game too, saffron.” he pulled back just enough to flash her a grin. “let’s continue.”

saffron-evangaline

She straightened, that same slow, confident smile curving her lips as she moved around the table like she owned it. Because right now, she did. “Of course,” she said over her shoulder, voice light and teasing but unmistakably certain, “that’s assuming you can win.” She lined up her next shot, and as the cue ball struck with a clean, commanding snap, she followed through like she was born for this—precise, elegant, devastating. Another ball sank into the corner pocket. No flourish. No need. Saffron wasn’t done playing. Not with the game, and definitely not with him. She circled the table with slow, fluid steps, cue in hand, eyes scanning for her next shot. She didn’t have to do what she did next—there were easier angles. But this? This was about more than winning. She stopped directly in front of Zayn, lining up the shot from where he stood. And then, without a word, she turned leaned forward over the table—right in front of him. Her hips tilted back ever so slightly, just enough to shift the line of her body, letting the hem of her top ride up a teasing inch as she stretched over the felt. She knew exactly what she was offering—a front-row seat—and she didn’t glance his way once. She smiled to herself, hidden behind the curtain of her hair, then took the shot—smooth and unhurried, the cue gliding between her fingers, the ball rolling clean into the corner pocket with a satisfying click. Only then did she straighten up slowly, flipping her hair back over one shoulder as she turned to face him. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Something distracting you, Zayn?” she asked, voice soft and knowing, the picture of faux-innocence wrapped in confidence. “Because that felt like a pretty easy shot.” She tapped the end of her cue against the floor once and let her gaze linger just long enough to make it sting. She traced the length of the rod with her hand, her fingers curling just slightly at the top before gliding back down with a smirk tugging at her lips. “Your turn."

zayn had forgotten the real reason why he asked saffron if she wanted to play pool, maybe it was another one of his lame moves, maybe he had watched too many shows with that kind of scene in them, which apparently was enough for him to consider himself a pro. but every time he tried to hit the ball, he either missed completely or the cue ball just rolled around uselessly without hitting anything. pool clearly wasn’t his thing, but how would he know if he had played little to no times in his life? still, none of that made him nervous—his playful, charming self was fully present, trying to make it look like he was messing up on purpose. the way saffron took over the table, completely in control, made him feel less in charge than he was pretending to be. he stood there, watching her from above, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he felt her fingers trail down his arm, sending a jolt of electricity right through him. he tried his best not to show how much a single touch had affected him. "you never lose? you’re too cocky," he chuckled, eyes still on her. "but since you’re so sure about your skills, what do you want your prize to be?" he asked, fully aware that she had been kicking his ass for the last fifteen minutes straight.

saffron-evangaline

She watched him miss shot after shot, the cue ball lazily rolling across the felt like it was just as confused as he was. It was honestly impressive—how bad he was. But oh, the way he tried to play it off like it was all part of the plan? That cocky little smirk, those half-shrug apologies, the fake disbelief? Adorable. But if he thought she was going to let him win just to boost his ego, he clearly hadn’t spent enough time around her yet. Safi stepped up to the table with ease, eyes glinting with something between amusement and challenge. She lined up her shot without hesitation, sinking the ball with a smooth, effortless motion. The click of the balls echoed just enough to make her grin. She could feel his eyes on her—he wasn’t even trying to hide it—and she loved it. As she circled the table for her next shot, she let her fingers lightly trail down his arm in passing, just the faintest brush. She didn’t even glance at him, but she felt the reaction—a shift in his breath, the way he straightened just slightly. A jolt of tension that didn’t go unnoticed. Safi smirked to herself. She tilted her head, cue resting on her shoulder like it was part of the outfit. “I get to be cocky when I'm kicking your ass this much, Zayn." Then he hit her with the next line—smooth, like he’d been saving it. Safi’s smile turned a little wicked, her voice soft but laced with challenge as she walked past him again, eyes locking onto his. “Hmm. You’re offering prizes now? Dangerous move.” She paused just long enough, close enough for it to count. “Tell you what... if I win, you owe me a favor. No questions asked.” She leaned in just slightly, lips close to his ear, and added with a wink, “And if you win... I owe you one."

he knew he shouldn't have started playing so cockily having in mind he wasn't good at pool, in fact, if he had ever played with hudson, he couldn't remember a time in which he had won, he was sure zara and angel would beat him and they hadn't even done that before. he had wished saffron was worse than him, turns out that wasn't possible. and he was regretting it now. "i would say yes, but the way you said it makes me think that that's not the answer you want to hear," he mused, raising his eyebrows at the pretty brunette. she was merciless, and zayn didn't know why but that pulled him in. the way she walked around, that smirk on her lips, ready to beat him at his own game... that nickname came out of his lips without even thinking, it was a habit by now, but as she walked closer, her voice dropping as she leaned closer, zayn couldn't be happier his rival was a girl as stunning as saffron. "not at all," he mused, "maybe you should stop intimidating me, so you can lose and we can have a drink. what was the prize if i win?"

saffron-evangaline

Safi knew she had Zayn on the back foot; his confidence wasn’t as unwavering as it had seemed at the start. He was clearly aware that his skills weren’t extraordinary, yet here he was—leaning into their playful dynamic and keeping the energy light. Safi could see the mischief flickering in his gaze, a challenge in itself. It was clear he wasn’t just captivated by her competitive streak. She could tell he wasn’t intimidated in the way she hoped; instead, it seemed to fuel his playful banter. As she moved around the table, Saffron noticed the nickname slip from Zayn's lips without hesitation, almost like a reflex. She leaned closer, her voice dropping a fraction, knowing full well that her presence was disarming him. Safi let her finger trail down the length of Zayn’s arm, slow and deliberate, her touch lingering just enough to keep his attention fixed on her. Her gaze locked with his, a smirk curving her lips as she leaned in, her voice low and dripping with confidence. "I don't lose, ever, Zayn," she murmured, her tone carrying a challenge that was impossible to ignore. "And your prize? What's mine. Maybe we make it fair."

Safi Evangaline @saffron-evangaline - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag