Escaped Criminal (Z.M.)

confessions

The next morning, I woke up with the biggest, most genuine smile sitting upon my face.

Beside me lay Zayn with his large arms wrapped around my body which was tiny in comparison to his. I face the wall whilst Zayn spoons me. It felt like my stomach could be an acrobat, it flipped that much.

A light chuckle escapes the man behind me's voice. "Morning beautiful," he murmurs in a raspy, morning voice.

The smile on my face doesn't seem to falter, instead growing bigger. Having him beside me like this felt truly amazing.

I adjust my hair, brushing it back with my fingers and make sure there is no hair in my face, then turn around so that I was facing him. Zayn adjusts his arms so that they're draping over my shoulders.

Our faces are within breathing distance. Our noses might as well be touching. There were practically no spaces between us and maybe that's what made this moment so amazing for me.

"Morning Zayn," I reply. I allow my hand to sweep some hair out of his face, yet it kept falling down making us both laugh. "Oh shut up," I whine.

His smile grows bigger and it suited him like this. It wasn't his usual smile, but this was his true one. It wasn't perfect - instead it was crooked and rather imperfect. But maybe that was what drew me to it.

Rather than making him seem fake, it made him more real. Like even the most seemingly perfect people have their flaws - they're real people too. Then again, that just proves that no ones perfect.

His face merges closer to mine. It was so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. "You're so cute, Mel. I hope you know that."

Zayn always knew how to make me blush. It was something that he was pretty much a 'pro' at, if you could really be one. It was an unusual feeling, having someone compliment me and keep me company. I guess that I've been so used to being alone that now I'm no more than a fish out of water in these situations.

I feel like I am the luckiest woman alive at this moment in time. I have the opportunity to sleep with Zayn, one of the most breathtaking man alive, despite his reputation. But the reputation was wrong. Zayn isn't someone who just kills people for the hell of it. That isn't the real Zayn. This is the real Zayn - the Zayn that I know. You have to see past those irresistible eyes of his that can put you in a trance and truly put effort in at least attempting to understand and know the real Zayn.

"And you're so-so breathtaking." I gasp as his lips suddenly come into contact with my skin. "Whenever I look at you I-I just forget everything I'm about to say."

A smug expression plays on his features.

"And - and when you touch me." My back arches at his touch and my breath hitches. His lips suck at my skin, leaving hickeys to adorn my skin. "It's like you're igniting a fire in my body, but at the same time sparks and electricity surge through m-me."

It's weird to think that we have never felt one another's lips pressed to the others. Sure, he's sucked at my skin or his lips have made contact to my skin one way or another, but never have we ever truly kissed. I've always dreamt and imagined of how it would feel, but it's not the same. Not at all.

My eyes look over at his beautiful face, and I try to determine his emotions. Whilst Zayn appears to be somewhat happy, I notice the slightest frown threatening his face. Slight creases show on his forehead, but I can see him trying to hide that specific emotion as if it was forbidden.

As if answering every question in my head - except some few which were left unanswered - he speaks up. "I wish I could be a better person for you, Mel, but the truth is, I'm not."