Sugar Coat ➳zayn malik

sixteen: Comfort & Unexpected Guests

Sixteen: Comfort & Unexpected guests

His soft brown eyes watched me carefully, softly, almost frightened to break me just by a look. It was 11 am probably, not too late, not too early and I felt more ready to wake up than ever and he had the decency to just look at me like that and make me feel all gushy just the second I woke up.

“Good morning,”, he whispered and I asked myself why the hell he was whispering and if he did it on purpose but I didn’t say anything. 

Was this all even real? Was his behaviour even real? Was he even real?

Just soon after he was out of bed and, oh god, he was shirtless and, oh no, I slept with my soon to be husband in one bed, holding hands, while he was shirtless. That was so not me at all.

Why did I feel like crying as soon as he left my room?

And then I realized that if anyone would notice him walking out of my room I would cry for real and no one would be able to stop the shame running through my veins.

‘Anyone would love to be in your position and sleep in one bed with me’ he would say and let out one of his oh so deep and manly chuckles which made me want to strangle and kiss him at the same time. Which was weird enough because what did I know about kissing besides two sets of lips touching each other?

Yes, I was that inexperienced.

---

“I was thinking about staying in today,” Zayn announced as soon as everyone else was in their rooms and only him and I were left in the living room with the TV on. I silently agreed with him with a short nod of my head and then turned my attention back to the TV. I didn’t even know what show was playing. I was trying to look occupied. Or something.

Truth to be told I was a mess inside and I wouldn’t let anyone show because how awkward would that be?

“I have a TV in my room, too, you know,” he informed me teasingly with a suspicious look on his soft yet firm features and I just tried to keep my eyes away from him because I knew looking at him would just pull the last string inside of me and I would either have a full on crying session or throw a proper toddler’s tantrum.

“Would you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing” Why was I being so cold, what was wrong with me?

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” he shot back and I shook my head because how oblivious must he be. Or how secretive must I be.

“Darling” Don’t call me that!

“What is wrong with you?!” I made him angry. I angered him. 

He shuffled over to my side of the coach and placed his two large hands on either side of my face forcing me to look at him and as soon as I made contact with his welcoming yet danger alarming eyes I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back and a tear escaped from  my left eye exposing my weakness.

Zayn’s expression didn’t show any concern. It didn’t show any emotion whatsoever as a matter of fact.

“Why are you crying?”, he asked me again and sobs escaped my mouth for unknown reasons, not even I myself knew what was wrong with me exactly. All I knew was, that I was a mess.

And then he hugged me, actually hugged me and my head was safely placed in the welcoming crook of his neck and his strong, muscular arms hold me up around the small of back while my weak arms just hung loosely falling into my lap and more and more and more ugly sobs escaped my throat.

I wanted to ask myself, what was wrong with me?

---

It was late at night and my eyes were about to shut themselves to engulf me in a deep sleep when suddenly I heard soft voices in the hallway.

One voice I was sure I would never mishear, it was Zayn’s. Who was he talking to, though? 

“Come in, don’t make any noise,” h whispered thinking no one could hear him. Well, that didn’t work out for him.

“What if anyone hears us?” Wait what? Was I going insane or was that really a female talking? I didn’t like that voice. It sounded obnoxious and annoying. 

Who was I even to judge someone by their voice. But something about it just woke an alarm sign inside of me, making me sit up and walk over to door pressing my ear closely to hear what exactly they were talking about. And who it was, if by any possibility I knew who that female voice belonged to after all.

“Go inside, I’ll bring you something to drink,” Zayn demanded, but it didn’t sound cold and mean at all, unlike he was with me when we first met.

I couldn’t help the jealousy creeping up in me like a slowly growing disease where the pain increased with every second.

And I couldn’t help myself. I just had to. My instincts worked faster than my brains and my tired and warm hand met the cold metal of the door knob pulling it back so the door opened and I came face to face with the dark, empty hallway.

Where they in his room already? What were they doing?

But my suspicions got denied when two females walked out of the room at the end of the hallway. Who were they and what did they want here?

A/N:

Hi guys!

I'm sorry for the long wait again, but this story is the one I'm feeling the most at the moment so expect more updates on here in the future. For everyone who also reads 'Stormy', I'm so so so sorry. I just can't seem to grip any inspiration whatsoever and I hate it but I won't delete it, that's for sure. Let's all just pray I'll update soon enough to still have this many supportive readers.

How did you like it?

AND how do you like the new covers on 'Sugar Coat', 'Mute' and 'Stormy'? I tried to make them like the same but not exactly, if you know what I mean? And I also wanted to try something different. Don't be scared to tell me, if you guys don't like them I'll change them!

And also my parents somehow found out I'm writing stories and they're super supportive lol wouldn't have expected this.

Guys, I had this idea. I thought, what if Id make 'Sugar Coat' until the Nikah, then a sequel until the engagement party and then the third book until the wedding. So three cute, small books.

love you aaaaall, 

bella x