Fell In Love With My Best Friend (Zayn)
So we’ve written alternate endings to this one shot. You can go with whichever you like (although we know which one you’ll will like ;) ). So till we’ve written ‘Alternate ending 1’, the story in both cases has moved the same way. From then on, there’s two ways to move forward. Just so you’ll can remember, both ends start with Zayn knocking on the door!! Ok, enough rant! Enjoyyyy!!!
"I don’t understand! Why can’t you ask your actual stylist to do this?” I whined, throwing a bunch of shirts for him to try, which he shamelessly tried right in front of me, without pants. Thankfully, he had boxers on. But I didn’t dare to look at his bare chest, his rock hard chest with that bloody six pack! I turned around and started rummaging through his closet again.
“Because that is our One Direction stylist. She styles us for shows, interviews and other things. Styling for dates of One Direction members doesn’t really come under her job description.” He explained, pulling a pair of dark blue denims up. “Besides, you wanna be a stylist right, I’m your model, go on!” he said, smiling mischievously.
I groaned. I can’t do this! It hurts me to dress Zayn up for a stupid date with some stupid girl at some stupid restaurant.
I turned around to see if the shirt looks good and I realised that he’d buttoned it wrong, pushing each button into the higher buttonhole, which then left an extra button on top and the shirt longer at the bottom on the other side.
“Zayn, what are you, five? You’ve buttoned it wrong!” I told him. He looked down with a puzzled expression, trying to figure out what was wrong. He looked so cute, tongue sticking out with concentration. But I really, really did not wanna be here, doing this.
I sighed, put the shirt in my hand on the bed and walked to him. I undid his whole shirt and started buttoning it right. I was so close to him, I could feel his minty breath on my face. He was almost 7 inches taller than me. Using that height, he managed to intimidate me sometimes. But right now, I was so upset that it made me too grumpy to care.
I looked up at him and he was smirking at me, his eyes shining excitedly. He was actually looking forward to his date, and that hurt even more. Ugh why did I feel like slapping that grin off his face?!
We locked eyes for a few seconds, my hands froze at a button. He was looking right into my eyes. Those amber eyes of his. I felt like we were the only people in the world. If I wanted, I could’ve kissed him right then, his soft pink lips wavering just a few inches over mine.
Suddenly getting out of the trance, I spoke first. “So what’s her name?” I asked, blinking and started buttoning his shirt again.
He blinked a couple of times, coming out of his own trance, I think. “Oh..Um K-K-Katherine? K-Kaitlin? I’m not sure…” he said, sifting uncomfortably.
“You don’t know your own dates name? I raised an eyebrow.
“She err… talks very fast. I’ll find out today!” he shrugged.
“ Where’s she from?” I tried again.
“Here, I guess?” he said.
“Didn’t you tell me she said she’s form out of town?” I asked, raising both my eyebrows.
“Oh yeah..” he said, embarrassed.
I rolled my eyes and stepped away to look at him, he looked good. Really good. Except for his hair, which was all over the place, looking like a birds nest. I burst out laughing and he started getting defensive screaming “What?! What is it?!”
