"Olivia, I have someone here I'd like you to meet," my mom smiles, her friends here. I walk down and into the room, my eyes taking in a male stature.
"This is Zayn, Trisha's son," she says, my eyes locking with his. The scruff on his cheeks is dark and his shaved head gives him a pointed face. He looks perfect.
"I'm Olivia," I smile, his lips curving.
"Zayn, as she said," he grins, my lips releasing a laugh.
"May I take you somewhere?" he asks, my head nodding. Much rather get away from this scene than stay and hear about a new recipe.
"So are you still at uni?" he asks, my head nodding.
"Yeah. Studying to go into journalism," I tell him, my eyes locking with Harry's as he stands by the cars. Zayn doesn't notice him and I quickly wink to Harry, letting him know I'm fine.
"Cool. I'm a musician," he tells me, my head nodding.
"That's awesome. Are you in a band?" I ask, his head shaking.
"Tried it but I wanted to go solo," he says, my head nodding.
We walk for a while and I know Harry's following us, Zayn setting his hand on the small of my back as we walk into a restaurant.
"You hungry?" he asks, my head nodding.
We sit in a booth and Harry sits in a table near us, his eyes on me the entire time. I can tell he's struggling with the thought of me being with another. A man alive, that is.
Zayn and I make small talk for a while and I find myself not intrigued by him. He's a great guy, just not what I'm looking for.
"It's nice meeting you," I smile, being polite.
"It's was wonderful meeting you," he grins, kissing my cheeks in goodbye. We part and I walk upstairs, closing and locking the door.
"How was your date?" I hear Harry, my lips releasing a sigh.
"He's not what I'm looking for in a man," I whisper, shedding my jacket. He sits on my bed and I look down at him.
"You want to go out?" he asks, my head turning to look at him. I smile, and he grins up at me.
"As much as I'd love to, you know why we shouldn't do that," I say, his hand grabbing mine.
"We could go for a walk in the park. I want to be with you," he reminds me, my thumb running against his knuckles.
"I know Harry. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I'd like to think that whatever just happened with Zayn was a hangout, not a date," I say, his head nodding. His silver eyes look back up at me and I take a chance, leaning my head down. I press a gentle kiss to his cheek and I feel his body stop, my head lifting to look at him.
"Do it again," he breathes out, my lips curving. I move to his other cheek and I kiss the soft skin, his lips releasing a sigh of contentment.
"It feels so warm," he says, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer.
"Do you think...should I kiss you?" I wonder, his hands pulling me tighter to him.
"Up to you," he says, but by his actions he wants me to. I'm sure when he first saw me he wanted to.
I hesitantly lean my head down, my fingers holding his face. Slowly, I press my lips to his and the cold lips warm at the touch. My eyes close and I move my lips with his, my heart racing. Whatever I'm feeling right now is amazing; I'm on top of the world.
His cool fingers pull me closer, my body moving to sit in his lap. This is a feeling I don't want to stop. Perhaps I am supposed to be his.
And he's supposed to be mine.
