Zayn dreams that someone is gently touching his eyelashes, just barely touching the tips. Then, the hand traipses down and a thumb—he supposes—strokes his cheek. He smiles, the reaction automatic. Perrie has always loved to touch his face, and play with his hair. Normally, Zayn all but growls at people when they touch his precious hair. But not Perrie; for her he will gladly do anything.
Then the hand trails down to touch his eyelashes, slowly making their way down to his cheek. He likes the feeling of soft, but guitar-roughed fingertips stroking his cheek so he smiles.
Some moments later, there’s slight pressure on his lips.
He wants to fight through the grogginess and heavy arms to kiss him back but right now, he can’t even bat an eyelash. So he lets this mysterious stranger kiss him, one-sided.
His kisser is a glorious kisser, he decides. Warm fingers slide into his hair and tilt his head up so that the angle is better for them to kiss. Two soft lips nudge against his own gently, sweet and innocent.
When the person moves away, Zayn can feel the thick fog of sleep lifting away from his body.
He blinks his eyes open, seeing blue, blue eyes staring into him, their noses bumping into each other.
“Oh, hi,” he says with an adorably thick Irish accent. “I know this is real forward an’ stuff but this is usually what happens in movies so—”
Zayn shuts him up with a kiss, wanting to kiss him properly. He feels bad because he can remember how Perrie used to wake him up with kisses every morning. Speaking of morning, his hundred-year-old morning breath must be horrible!
But Niall doesn’t seem to mind as Zayn can feel the thin lips stretching into a kiss before they mold to fit around his. Their lips move, nudging and parting around each other until Zayn runs his tongue along the seam of Niall’s kissable, sweet-tasting lips. Niall lets him in instantly and their tongues begin to play tag.
Neither of the are taking charge, but rather enjoying the feel of each other. Zayn can eel the twinge of guilt twisting in his gut but at he same time, he can almost hear Perrie nagging in the back of his mind to go on.
“Hi,” Zayn says, almost sheepishly as they pull away from each other.
“Hi. I’m guessin’ you’re Zayn, the enchanted prince.”
“Yeah, I guess. And you are?”
“Niall.”
“Well, Niall, thanks for rescuing me, I suppose.”
“No problem. So are we gettin’ out of here or what?”
“Yeah, let’s.”
-
Niall and Zayn make their way down the spiralling stairs and towards the main gate.
“Oh, by the way,” Niall starts to say as they push the door open, “There’s a dra—”
“Whoa, whoa, watch out!” Harry calls out, somewhere from above.
Zayn tugs Niall behind him protectively as the dragon’s head looms in closer, twin streams of flames following soon after.
“Okay, bad dragon!” Harry shouts. Zayn tightens his hands around Niall’s—when did he grip Niall’s hand like it was his lifeline?—and pulls him even closer to his body.
‘Harry?” Niall says incredulously, looking up at the dragon’s neck.
Zayn squint and looks closer. Up on where the dragon’s neck meets its shoulders, a slim figure is perched between the sharp shoulder blades. It looks like the figure has a thick head of curly hair and kitten ears.
“Oh, hey, Nialler! Sorry ‘bout that, she isn’t that used to having a person ride her, whoa, okay stop. Land please, dear.”
“Are you . . talking to that thing?!” Niall asks, gobsmacked.
The dragon lets out a snarl as it lands on the ground, causing a mini earthquake. “Don’t call her a thing. She’s a dragon with feelings,” Harry huffs, petting the side of the dragon’s neck.
“Well, she’s the one who tried to barbecue us not an hour ago!” Niall throws his free hand up in the air.
“That’s only because she was ordered to guard the castle, duh,” Harry rolls his feline green eyes.
Niall rolls his own eyes in reply and points to Harry. “Zayn, this is Harry, Harry, Prince Zayn.’
“Am I supposed to bow?” he asks cheekily.
“Not necessarily. Are you a professional dragon tamer?” Zayn asks the were-cat, amusement clear in his amber eyes.
“Not necessarily. I think she fancies me.”
“I think we got a fast ride back to town,” Niall muses.
“No, actually, we must go to my parents’ castle not too far from here. My guardian angel said that they would have fallen asleep as well, for a century.”
Not a second after he has said that, an ominous fog starts to creep around them.
“Erm, Zayn,” Niall queries nervously. “Is this a normal weather pattern around here?”
Zayn shakes his head no.
“Then we’re still in deep shit, mate.”
YOU ARE READING
Sleeping Zayn (Sleeping Beauty Spin-Off)
Fanfiction*NOT FAMOUS* Zayn is a cursed Prince. He can't wake up until his true love aka saviour comes and kisses him. Niall is merely a traveller through the forests in Bradford when he is suddenly drawn further into the shadows. Is love really all you nee...
