Bloom

Chapter-9

Zayn

I remember don't the last time I felt like this, completely captivated by someone; mesmerised. Stella's eyes stirred something in me, as beautiful as they were deep- they reminded me of something I have long left in the past and don't wish to think of ever again. The fear to lose myself again like that- to become completely shattered, is the only thing I don't want or need. But looking at Stella is just... it gives me hope. Or maybe I'm just drunk.

My breath hitches at the sight of her beautiful caramel brunette hair as they fall over her eyes, the way her bottom lip is so pink and full that I almost imagine my teeth biting it in place of hers. I remind myself of how much I fucking hate her but the feeling doesn't settle. I thought about her the entire time, from the moment in the parking lot to this very one. She crept into my mind and somehow over the past week, thinking of her has removed most traces of hate towards her. There's just pure lust.

She looks at me with intrigue and somewhat disgust, like she just caught me thinking what I was thinking. "Busy daydreaming, mister?" Damn my dirty fucking mind.

"In order for that dream to come true, it should've been a hot chick with maybe a little more cleavage," I point at her neckline, sarcastically, that covers her whole chest, not even a hint of skin revealed.

I turn away from her and adjust myself into the sofa, sinking further in the soft leather. A slight smirk forms on my lips because now finally I've got her to keep her fucking mouth shut.

"What can I say? Dreams do come true. If I'll just leave, maybe you'll find yourself a whore to fuck." Hearing her say those words for some reason turn me on. You'll find yourself a whore to fuck, I really hope I do, so that I can get you out of mind.

She stands up to leave but before she can walk away, my fingers wrap around her wrist, halting her steps. Her head turns, shock takes over her features and once again I find myself in the dilemma of adoration. I scan her every curve, not afraid anymore that she'll catch me staring. When I finally meet her eyes, they're burning into mine, full of desire and lust. The people around us fade away, the music becomes a distant echo, the weight of the sofa slips underneath me, the only contact I feel is Stella's pulse quickening under my fingers, her eyes showing so much desperation for me. We stay right there for almost an eternity, everything and everyone around lost on us, just the two of us, saying things to each without uttering words.

Stella's lip quivers as her face instantly flushes, that's when I realise the shift of weight toward my right. I leave her eyes for the slightest second turning to look at Brian, draped across the couch, his eyes bloodshot. Smell of weed radiating off him. Relief takes the better of me. I sigh, releasing a harsh breath. For fuck's sake if it had been Nat or someone else, it sure would've been a huge fucking deal by now. I kind of start liking the fact that Brain is never completely present in his surroundings because I don't want whatever game me and Stella are playing out in the open. It's good to know that something is only for me and that only makes my liking towards Brain stronger.

Stella's wrist leaves my hand and the only object that lights up a fire in me walks away from me. Emptiness takes over my body and the need to be fucking near her only grows.

"Yo, what's up?" Brain's voice slurs as he retrieves a blunt from his pocket.

"Later Brain." I roll him off and begin my search for Stella, maybe getting a kiss wouldn't be so bad after all.

.....

Stella 

A chill in the air hits me as I step outside the massive house, wrapping my hands around myself to create a protective shield against the cold. My hair, I took hours to curl into perfection are blown up by the wind into a hysteric mess. After a few encounters with drunken people trying to rid me of my solace, I wander into dark alley which leads to a beautiful colossal garden. I spot an outdoor bar and take one of the tall seats across it, there is not a person in sight which gives me assurance and time to think peacefully.  

Subsequently, a couple of minutes pass by relishing the beauty of the night sky and I realise that's when I finally feel free- in the midst of night, basking in moonlight, under the stars' gaze.

The sound of leaves crunching reaches my ears somewhere behind me, stirring fright in me and my head immediately spins to find the intruder to be none other than, him. It's funny how I don't know his name or absolutely anything about him, besides that he owns a restaurant, and I still feel this strong urge to kiss him. This feeling I'm having cannot be named, I'm so attracted to him that all my self-respect seems to evaporate in his presence. Lust. I put my finger on it. It's lust. Perhaps.

He clears his throat as he approaches me, "I don't know why I did that," he points towards my wrist, "or kiss you," he has now taken his spot across me, behind the counter, his eyes never meet mine.

His veiny hand reaches for a bottle on the countertop, then retrieves two glasses from under the bar and pours a drink in both of them. Through this all, I look at him stunned, deprived of my sanity as I imagine where I want his veiny hands to be. One of the glasses sliding across the tabletop shakes me into the brutal actuality of him standing further apart from me. 

I'm not one to drink, but the kind of days I've had and his presence bound me to choose otherwise. It all makes sense to me- why people drink. My fingers wrap around the base of glass and I grip tightly. My eyes scan the drink as my brain does a double-over as to if I should drink or not. He clears his throat again like he never finished, drawing all my attention to him.  

His eyes are already on me when I look up and I instantly heat up. They are all but full of thirst, demand and rawness, "but for some reason, I want to do it again." 

***

I might have chicken-shitted a little, I think. The moment those six words rolled off his tongue, I found myself breathless, wanting to do exactly what he said, I wanted to do it again. To feel the curve of his neck under my arms, his gentle but seizing embrace, his warm mouth on mine. I wanted to do all the wrong things for the right reasons.

But before any of that could happen, I gulped down my drink and left.

***

It's been two whole days since, and I can't seem to get him out of mind. I painted for most of my day, to kill time. But every time the brush stroked the canvas, all it could paint was the faintest inkling of him. 

I got through university and hung out with Maya for hours at a time, we went shopping and eating, to the movies and studied at home. It was only with her, I seemed to not think of kissing him. 

If there was one thing I wanted to do more than breathing was to kiss him. To kiss the only person, who in years reminded me of my darkest times, hearing him speak, lit that spark in me to ingest everything that comes my way but also I wanted to devour only him. Comical as it is, a person you don't know and have a powerful urge to kiss- is the person who can touch your soul and turn it to ash just by conducting to be someone you spent your whole life forgetting. 

That's just how the world works, you despise a person so much so that you would want to give anything for that person to touch you.