VOTE | COMMENT
I sat comfortably on Zayn’s lap, both of us skipping our classes like the rebels we were, hidden behind the bushes on our college campus.
The cool air of the afternoon brushed against my face, and I couldn't help but sigh contentedly as I nuzzled into the crook of Zayn's neck. His skin was warm, and I purred—yes, I actually purred—like a ridiculous lovesick kitten, which, of course, Zayn found way too amusing for his own good.
Zayn took a slow drag of his cigarette and exhaled lazily. “You know, you’re like a cat, Harry,” he said, that infuriatingly smug grin on his lips.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes but still peeking up at him through my lashes. “Oh, please. Like I’m going to let you reduce me to a house pet. I have way more class than that. Maybe a lion at least,” I said, though I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my mouth.
I mean, look at him! How did I even fall for this guy? Maybe it was the way he saved me from those thugs last week, or maybe it was the way he’d pampered me like I was some delicate, breakable thing afterward.
Either way, here I was, totally whipped, sitting on his lap like I was staking my claim.
It’s been a week since that whole attack fiasco, and honestly, I’m kind of glad it happened. I know, I’m messed up, but hear me out—I got Zayn out of it, didn’t I? Not to mention, he apologized a million times for showing up late that night.
Apparently, their car broke down, so they had to send it to the garage and walk the rest of the way to get to us. And now, things are different. Zayn and I talk on the phone every night, and I might be just a little obsessed with the sound of his voice when he’s half-asleep.
As I smooched Zayn’s lips. I refuse to call it anything else. I couldn’t help but think that maybe this was worth every second of terror I went through that night.
And the surprising part? Kyra has actually been bearable since then. I know, shocking, right? We’re even bonding a bit. I guess there’s nothing like a near-traumatic experience to bring two people closer together.
Meanwhile, my parents still have no clue about the attack. Thank God for that! They’re too busy with my dad’s campaign, and as the election creeps closer, he’s been tightening security around us like I’m some precious artifact on loan from the British Museum.
I glanced up at Zayn’s face, pressing another kiss to his jaw just because I could.
And there he was, just sitting there like the most beautiful distraction I could ask for. My bodyguard stood a few feet away, stone-faced and unblinking, acting like he didn’t see a thing, which was honestly for the best. The last thing I needed was his judgmental stare ruining my romantic moment.
“Do you think the bodyguard’s jealous?” I whispered against Zayn’s neck, loud enough that he could hear but soft enough to make it seem like I was sharing a secret.
Zayn snorted, flicking ash from his cigarette with this annoying air of nonchalance. “He’s probably wishing he was anywhere else right now.”
“Lucky for him, I’m not kissing him then, huh?” I said with a grin, leaning in to press another kiss on Zayn’s cheek.
Zayn's eyes softened as he looked down at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and for once, I was glad. Glad that life threw us into that chaos. Glad that, out of all the things I faced that night, I gained Zayn.
YOU ARE READING
The Russian Bondage | Zarry
Fanfiction"I fell for the shadows in you, the parts that made others turn away, but to me, they were the most human thing about you."