Little Things
Zayn gripped her hips and drove in, her hands knotted in pillows as he drove in, again and again, grinding against him, biting her lower lip, trying not to scream as the pressure built to that exquisite point –
“Hey Zayn we – ah! Ah oh God, sorry! Sorry no Louis don’t - “Harry why are you OH, OH JEEZ!” “Guys what are you – OH. RIGHT. Nice one.” “NIALL!” “Liam what are you yelling for I – oh. Yeah I see it now.”
She had screamed and rolled away, falling off the side of the bed and stayed there, feeling her face burn red. Oh God, did the rest of One Direction see me naked? “You didn’t mention that birth mark on her – ” “GET OUT!” Zayn had a sheet wrapped around his middle, and kneeled up on the bed. “Get the fuck out! Why wouldn’t you knock? What’s a matter with knocking? Seriously!”
“I came to get you because the press are in the lobby, they want to do an interview now. Simon will be here a minute, so… you should probably get dressed.” Harry finished lamely, noting the piles of clothes around the room, zoning in as Louis had on the pink, frilly knickers on the ground. “GET OUT!”
She heard the boys shuffle out, a rustle, and Zayn was leaning over the edge of the bed looking at her. “Gorgeous?” “Yeah?” her voice was muffled, she was still face down on the ground. “You right?” “Yep.” “Wanna get off the floor or…?” “No, no I’ll be fine here for the next few centuries, go get dressed.” She waved him off, not looking up, completely mortified.
Zayn hurried to shower and dress. Slowly she crawled back into the bed, deciding under the covers was a warmer, more comfortable place to hide. He peered under the duvet. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but feel free to order whatever you want, and watch the telly and everything. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he peeled the blankets off of her, making her sit up. He licked his lips and gave her a dangerous smile. “I want to finish what I started,” he muttered wickedly, placing a hand on the back of her neck and kissing her in a way that had to be illegal.
“Bye,” he breathed against her lips and walked away. She might have said bye back, she might not have, he’d rendered her a little speechless.
She sat back in the pillows, wearing knickers and his t-shirt again, flipping through the channels and coming on a live report.
All five boys sat at a table and Zayn had that wonderful just-rolled-out-of-bed-not-giving-a-fuck look happening, and it was hard to believe she’d been wrapped up in that jacket the night before. They were pretty standard, generic questions; How’s the new album, What’re your plans for the holidays, What do you think of this year’s X-Factor, Is it true you’re going to Canada in March…
“Zayn! Zayn we have a source that says you’ve got yourself a girl here in London, want to give us any insight into that one?”
Zayn squinted slightly in the bright camera lights. He couldn’t have heard that right. “Zayn? The girl? What’s her name?” Jolted back to reality, Zayn felt his stomach do a backflip. He hadn’t even told his mum or sisters about her yet, he couldn’t just announce it on telly, but what if she was watching? Would she be upset, feel like he was ashamed of her?
“Look I don’t really think that’s got anything to do with the band or the boys, so if we could move on to another –” “Zayn do you deny having a new girlfriend then? Are you back together with Little Mix’s Perrie?” “No, no leave Perrie alone,” Zayn said, feeling himself grow angry. He and Perrie had left on good terms, there was no need to drag her into any of this. “If I am seeing anyone, she and I will decide if and when we go public. Next question, thanks.” “So you are seeing someone?”
She held her breath, clutching the covers up to her face. Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, is he about to ..??
“Yes.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “You had a question about the album cover, didn’t you? Louis can tell you all about that.”
He walked into the room. Maybe she hadn’t seen it.
“Zayn.” Her voice was serious, and she was sitting on his made bed, fully clothed. “You shouldn’t have said that.” “Why not?” he asked defensively. “It’s true.” He shrugged. “The media –” “Fuck the media. We’ll deal with it as it comes. I’m in love with you.” He crouched in front of her, catching her hands in his. “It’ll be all right. I hope you’re not busy tomorrow, I want you to meet my mum.”
Her lips pursed and her body tensed. “She’ll love you, don’t worry.” “It’s not that.” “What is it babe?” he brushed her hair away from her face. Her eyes grew wider and watery. “I’m worried that…” she looked away. “That what?” he was starting to panic. Did she think that Toby dick could get at her? “Gorgeous?” “I’m worried that when the media sees us together, and there’s photos everywhere… You’ll realise I’m not pretty enough for you.” She looked down at their interlocked hands, and a few tears dropped down, hot and wet on his skin.
He moved and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
He cleared his throat, held her a little tighter and began to sing.
“Your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me, But bear this in mind it was, meant to be And I’m joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks And it all makes sense to me I know you’ve never loved The crinkles by your eyes, when you smile You’ve never loved, your stomach or your thighs The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine But I’ll love them endlessly I won’t let these little things slip Out of my mouth But it’s you It’s you It’s you they add up to And I’m in love with you, And all your little things…”
He continued to sing as she cried a little more, curling herself up against him. She shook slightly; she wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready to be ‘Zayn Malik’s girlfriend’, to be hassled every where, to have teenage girls wishing her an early death… if he meant it, though, when he sung all of that to her… If he could really, truly love her, even though she’d never look a thing like Perrie…
Maybe it would be ok.