Wearing Thin.

2. "Hidden."

Holed up in a five star hotel wasn’t my idea of a perfect Saturday night, but this was exactly how I was going to spend it regardless of what I wanted. Zayn had gotten angry at the invading paprazzi and I didn’t even bother to tell him that it was our fault for being so careless. We had been pretty good at not getting caught, although there were always a few slip-ups caused by Zayn’s overbearing jealousy issues. I got off of the bed, creeping my way over to the window. I pulled the curtain open and took a peek out, taking quick note of the mob of fans and paps standing at ground level. I rolled my eyes and let out a small sigh, returning to my previous spot. I was hungry and Zayn still hadn’t returned with our food - but at least now I knew why. Part of me wanted to check the gossip sites, and twitter. But I knew better than that. Our name’s would be in headlines. Picture’s everywhere. We both knew it. We just wanted to spend a little bit of time together before we had to deal with reality and it’s never-ending consequences.

I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to figure out how we had gotten here, and what exactly was the catalyst between us. The answer was obvious, it always was. From the moment I had met him I knew he was going to cause me and everyone around us a world of trouble. He had that glint in his eye and that ever-so-bothersome smirk on his face that I grew to love more than anything. His intentions were obvious, he was drunk and he wanted me. And I - well, I was the first girl to tell him no. I knew that ignited some sort of a fire inside of him, one that wouldn’t burn out until he got what he wanted. The only problem was that I was off-limits to him, or rather, I still am. But we found a way around that. Or at least we thought we had. I rolled around, frustrated with myself more than anything. Then Niall popped into my head, his charming smile, and baby-blues almost unforgettable. Yet, why couldn’t I for the life of me fall in love with him? Or pretend to do so with heart?

Because I was in love with the absolute trainwreck that was Zayn Malik. And in turn he was in love with me.

The sound of the door opening brought me out of my thoughts and made me look in the direction of the sound. I was met with Zayn’s smiling face and a bag of McDonald’s. He closed the door behind him with his foot and went over to the couch that sat in front of a flat screen TV. Beckoning me over with his hand, I obliged, plopping down on the empty spot beside him. He leaned over and placed the bag of food on the coffee table, waiting for me. I let out a small laugh as I laid my legs over his lap, a habit he knew I couldn’t resist. “Wait, er, we need something to drink.” I shook my head at him as he got up and moved to the other side of the room, his head disappearing for a moment as he peered through the mini-fridge with items we had requested exclusively.

He returned moments later with a bottle of Cherry Coke for me, and regular Coke for himself. “Alright.” He muttered, the wind knocked out of him as he dropped his body onto the couch. I stretched my legs over his lap once more, and he shot a warm smile in my direction, grabbing the bag of fast food to sort through it. “This is yours.” He said, dragging out his vowels and extending a box of chicken nuggets and a carton of fries - but not before stealing a few of the golden chips, as he would say, for himself. I let out a sound of disapproval, sitting up to reach into the bag and take a few of his for myself, sticking them into my mouth before he could reclaim them from me. I chewed loudly near his ear with a huge shit-eating grin on my face before letting my back hit the arm rest.

Zayn rolled his eyes at me, “Nasty girl.” He muttered, pulling out his burger and taking a quick bite of it.

“You mad?” I asked, following suit and beginning to dig into my box of chicken nuggets. My eyes landed on his burger and all of a sudden I had a craving for whatever it was. “Gimme some.” I whined, pushing my bottom lip out in a small pout.

He let out a sigh, but I knew he wasn’t cross. Extending his hand out to me, I leaned forward and took a quick bite, holding up one of my nuggets so that he could do the same and it’d be a fair trade. A few nibbles later I was asking him to twist the cap off of my soda because it was too hard for me to which he responded with the usual ‘what are you a baby’ comment. But no matter how many times he pretended to act like he hated doing things for me, I knew he enjoyed it. It was easy to see from the secret smile he wore on his face when he thought I wasn’t looking. We ate the rest of our meal with the sound of the TV that we had turned on to fill the void of silence.

Once done, Zayn had taken the empty containers from me and placed them on the coffee table, his hands running over the skin of my bare legs. A groan left his lips as he squirmed around, moving to hover over me. His lips were on mine in half a second and then they wandered around my face, causing my nose to crinkle from the feathery touch. I placed the palms of my hands against his chest and pushed him gently, turning my head to the side. “Zayn stop, your breath smells like food, ugh.” I whined, earning an immediate response from him. He chuckled whole-heartedly and pressed one last kiss on my collar bone, rising up on his feet. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and let out a blissful sigh, only to get interrupted by his phone ringing.

He bit his lip and went to fetch it, answering it hastily. I perched my head up on my enclosed fist and watched as he paced around the room, my fingers grazing over the white leather of the couch. He sounded agitated and I could tell that whatever was being said to him wasn’t good. But then again what had we expected? He hung up and tossed his phone on the floor shaking his head gently. He cocked his head towards me and shrugged. “Are they angry?” I asked sitting up.

He laughed. “They’re furious. Disappointed. Ashamed.” Running his fingers through his chestnut colored hair. I watched as the small amount of light peeking through the curtains illuminated the strands of blonde, making them appear even more prominent than before. “Demi whorevato and ‘whyzaynwhy’ is trending on twitter apparently.” I threw my head back and had a good laugh. The type where your eyes water, and your sides feel like they’re about to burst. “People are so creative these days…” I said, brushing a stray tear from the corner of my left eye with my thumb.

“Tell me about it…” Zayn mumbled, appearing at my side. He reached out, and scooped me up in his arms, a grunt leaving his parted lips. He carried me over to the bed, and laid me down. Resting his hands on either side of my face to hold himself up. He just stared at me carefully, his brows furrowed, as if this would be the last time he would ever see my face. I smiled and brought my hand up, my fingertips running over the light stubble covering his jawline. “Kiss me…” I whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered shut before mine did the same. The pads of his fingers rubbed circles over my hip bones as his lips trailed down to my neck, his warm breath sending chills down my spine and I was rendered almost immobile. I’ll never forget that night and the way it felt like to be skin to skin, the way his eyes always found mine, and the way our breathing drowned out the blaring of his cellphone.