Those Beautiful Boys (One Direction One Shots)

Don't Forget Me (Zayn Malik) ***DIRTY***

Another dirty one shot, once again. But if you'd like to skip the dirty parts, I'll mark it for you. This will be the marker: ~~~ The part between these characters are the dirty parts, so you can feel free to skip these parts and continue on with the rest of the story. (:

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                It was a hot summer day in the middle of July. As usual, I was standing behind the counter of the ice cream shop I work at as my summer job, waiting for customers to come in and purchase some ice cream. Business was unusually slow today; usually at 12 p.m. every day the customers would come rushing into the air conditioned shop because of the scorching weather and buying some ice cream because they couldn’t resist. Maybe it was just because today was a tad colder because of the heavy cover of clouds blocking the sun.

                At last, I heard the bell tinkling as the door opened to let a customer in. A teenage boy looking no older than 16 came up to the counter.

                “Hello, welcome to Isabelle’s Irresistible Ice Cream (A/N: Sorry, that was random xD). Today’s special is the orange sherbet ice cream for just $1.50 a scoop,” I recited the well-rehearsed lines, “How may I help you?”

                “You may help me,” the boy leaned in, “by giving me your number.”

                I scrunched up my eyebrows in distaste.

                Bitch, I’m 18, aren’t you a little young? I thought sourly, taking a deep breath.

                “Look, kid, I’m sorry, but I’m not interested,” I told him.

                “C’mon, babe, you and I can have some fun.” He winked, the small action making me sick to my stomach.

                I shook my head. “Your order, please?”

                “Stubborn, aren’t you?” he smirked, “I’ll take three scoops of today’s special.”

                “Cup or cone?” I asked, punching numbers into the cash register.

                “Which one is more expensive?”

                I looked up to him quizzically. “Cone, I guess.”

                “Then I’ll take that.”

                Weird… I mentally shrugged it off, finishing the order and printing out the receipt, handing it to the boy. Then I slid open the glass pane dividing the ice cream from me and took three scoops of the orange sherbet ice cream, placed them in a cone, and stuck my hand out to give it to the boy.

                “That’ll be $5.70,” I said, holding out the cone.

                I watched as he reached his hand forward, grabbed the cone, and jerked his hand to the side, causing the scoops of ice cream to slip off and drop onto the counter.

                “Oops,” he smirked, “Better clean that up.”

                And with that, he turned around, and dashed right out the door before I could even react.

                I watched, open mouthed, as he ran around a corner and disappeared out of sight.

                I dropped my gaze to the blobs of ice cream, already rapidly melting in a creamy mess on the countertop.