Criminal VS. Criminal || мαℓιк

18. Past Midnight

18. Past Midnight

Maxxon Chase's P.O.V. :

   I climbed down the ladder, sneaking a glance back. The boys all sat with their backs to me, talking about the strangest of things. I sneaked a glance at the clock. It was past midnight and these idiots still had yet to leave my home. I mean, I know it's only the awesomest place ever, but why could they not go home? I knew giving them sugar was going to cause a problem.

   "What if after midnight, people become homosexuals instead of werewolves?" Louis asked.

   "It'd be like, 'Ahh! Oh, no. . . I'm becoming. . . I'm becoming. . .'" Niall continued. 

   "Then a colorful explosion. 'Fabulous!' That would be amazing. Wouldn't it?" Zayn says. 

   What. Are. They. Talking. About.

   "Lads, what are you doing here?" I groaned, running a hand over my face. The boys turn around, each having a smile plastered on their face. Niall stands up heading over to me. He picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder. Startled and still have asleep, I mumble the only thing I can think of saying at the moment.

   "I wet myself."

   In that instant, Niall dropped me on the floor, waking me up completely, only to scold him for actually letting me fall. Although I have a pretty rough and strong outer exterior, there was always one part that hurts more to girls than boys. The curvy hips. I yelped once I gently poked the forming purple splotch.

   "Go home!" I shouted, flailing my arms at them. Louis and Niall scattered away slamming the front door shut behind them. Zayn chuckled, turning his back to face me again. Although I tried, I couldn't suppress the smile on my face that was forming from Zayn's masculine chuckle. It was deeper than it was weeks earlier. And I'm sure it's not puberty.

   I trudged over to my kitchen, pulling open one of the cabinets. I pulled the kettle out before heading over to the sink and filling it with water. I was aware of Zayn's eyes on me as I placed the kettle over the stove. As I turned it on, I headed back over to the settee where Zayn was. His longs jean-covered legs were sprawled over the couch, one bent down; making his legs look like a four. His back leaned against the armrest while his left arm was resting over the back of the couch. I patted his legs, getting him to raise them. I took a seat only to have his legs placed over my lap.

   A comfortable silence rested over us as I traced patterns onto the leg of his black jeans. Zayn watched me with emotionless gold eyes. It almost felt normal to have us seated together in the same room without killing each other. And right then, the only thing I could think of was saying two simple words to him. 

   "Thank you," I whispered.

3rd Person P.O.V. :

   Her long fingers gently traced over his leg, awaiting his response. A smile reached his lips, although it didn't reach his eyes. Max just looked to vulnerable to break the news to her. Zayn knew it would break her, even if she didn't have feelings for him. The thought of leaving her alone for the next year, broke Zayn. He couldn't stand knowing his long mission to help fix her would be put on hiatus. Not only had she become an amazing friend, she'd become his best friend. He'd helped her and she'd helped him. The bond they had made would soon be broken by his life-long dream. If he didn't tell her, she would remember him as the guy who left with no reason why. Now or never, Zayn thought. 

   "Max, I have something to tell you," He whispered. Max raised a finger, signaling for him to wait. Zayn raised his feet as Max sprinted towards the steaming kettle. She turned the stove off, pulling two pugs out of the cabinet. She carefully poured the steaming tea into the antique mugs. All the while, Zayn nervously tapped his fingers on his calves, going through conversations in his head. Somehow, every single one ended up with someone getting hurt. In Zayn's mind, hurting a girl --especially one he liked -- was like hurting one of his sisters; he couldn't imagine himself doing it.