H,
I came home and slammed the door behind me. My flat was quiet, but my mind was rushing at too many miles per hour. I felt exhausted and completely drained.
I dropped my bag by the door leaning against the wood and then slid down until I was leaning with my head against it. The quietness overtook my senses and opened the gates of emotion within me. I inhaled through my nose and let it out between my lips, trying to stay calm and survive.
I'm a fool.
I'm an idiot.
How can I be feeling this intensely and hard for Zayn still after all these years? How could I still want him with the same intensity and desire? I'm not strong enough to survive him and I wasn't sure I wanted to.
I'm an idiot.
He looked good too. I loved him a dark suit - I loved him anyway. Liam wasn't there and to me, that was a victory. I had him all to myself, his beautiful self, all mine.
I fished my camera from within my bag and turned it on. I searched for his picture amongst the hundreds taken that night. I knew the one I wanted—the one of him.
I found it and my heart stopped: it was a wide shot showing a very small Zayn in comparison with the pillars ahead of him. He looked at them, seeing if everything was to his liking. He looked so naive looking up. It was beautiful. He looked beautiful. So simple.
I had watched him all night, seeing how he moved, and he manoeuvred the people around him. How he went from being shy and nervous to completely at ease, navigating the crowd. How he answered with certainty to that journalist's question and how he maintained complete confidence. I searched for more and more pictures where he smiled ou looked around. I found one when he was starting right at my lens.
My heart stopped.
It was a deep stare and intense brown eyes marking me as his.
Oh fuck. I'm going down a bad route, aren't I?
I slammed my head against the hardwood.
I know. I know there's a parade of red flags in front of me. I know. But I can't resist him. Knowing he wants me that much, his eagerness for me makes me scream inside. I want to be his. I want him to just...have me.
It's not just the sex (which is beyond this world, mind you) it's how we are together. I can't explain it. I sound redundant and obsessive, but the truth is I am counting the seconds until he's on his knees yelling my name as he had in the past.
I bang my head against the door again.
I need to be level-headed. Of course, my body screamed for him, but I forced myself to stay put. He plagued me, but I wouldn't just open up for him as I used to. Zayn broke my heart. He broke me! I love him, but I can't allow things to go like this. Any sane person would just walk in the other direction.
God, it was hard.
I bang my head again and breathe.
I was tingling all over. My stomach revolved. The warmth in the depth of me just licking at my skin. I needed to cool off.
I got up from the ground, leaving my camera on the counter. I headed to the bathroom peeling my clothes with every step. I step into the shower and turn on the cold water. I stood under the shower until I was shivering and wasting enough water to make environmentalists clutch their pearls.
I needed to cool off.
If I'm cold I'm not thinking of Zayn and I'm not imagining him at his house with Liam. Possibly making love or kissing. Did he kiss better than me? Did he hold him tighter? Could Liam make him reach the peaks of pleasure as I could? Has he begged him to go harder or deeper?

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For Lovers Only - [A Zarry Stylik]©️
FanfictionFirst loves are hard to forget. Harry and Zayn knew this all too well - revolving around one another since they were teenagers. After years in a toxic relationship with someone he thought he loved dearly, Zayn decides to follow his heart and chase h...