[COMPLETED]
❝Of all the races I've started, loving him is the one I never want to finish.❞
In this re-imagination of my most popular story, Arielle Hawthorne is an illegal street racer, just like Zayn Malik. Zayn's egotistical, flirty, and a major p...
"I want you inside my mind, smothering my thoughts, and indulging my dreams. I want you inside my heart, dancing within my ventricles, and flowing through my affections. I want you in places the most gifted surgeons would never gamble to dissect. And I want you, all over me, all the time." — Unknown
A/N:
hello! i've worked rather hard to pump this out today! I was struggling with it (and certain scenes) for a couple days, but i managed to finish :)
as always, i beg that you leave comments!
make a guess as to the contents of this chapter based on the title!
enjoy! 🤍
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Z A Y N
When I open the door, I'm greeted with Arielle. Her eyes are slightly puffy and for a moment, I fear that something has happened that I'm not aware of. But then she smiles and her eyes go soft as she runs into my arms. She presses her lips to mine and I hold her arms to pull her away from my frame, "Arielle—"
"I got your letter, I saw the news." Her tone is frenzied as she runs her palms up my chest. She leans in to kiss me again but I pull back and grab her face in my hands.
"What about James?"
"He broke up with me," she informs me.
My heart begins to race as I glance down at her. She's single and she's here.
Before my mouth meets hers again, I mutter, "He's a bloody moron." With her jaw still cupped in my hands and my tongue in her mouth, I force her backwards until her back hits the drywall.
She threads her fingers through my hair. "You dyed your hair," she comments, tugging on the blue strands. "My favourite colour."
I smile down at her, "Did you enjoy the news tonight?"
She nods, drawing her hands down my neck to play absentmindedly with the collar of my shirt. "I did, but I don't want to talk about it." I raise an eyebrow and she adds, "The only thing that matters is that I love you."
I swallow the lump that immediately forms in my throat at the sound of those three words. "I love you," I reply softly, my voice overwhelmingly hoarse with emotion. "Are you sure you understand everything—"
