MALIK :: ZAYN

ten | beautiful

°•

"Another one?"

"Sure, why not?" she replied, stretching her arm out so Zayn could pour more champagne in her glass.

They were at the hotel still, unfortunately, it did snow, and the traffic was terrible. Zayn worked a bit on his laptop while Crissle had waited for him to tell her what she should do.

She booked a flight for Monday morning, when the roads were clear.

It was currently Saturday.

"So, what do you like to do?" Zayn slurred slightly, leaning back and drinking from the bottle itself.

"Um," she set her newly empty glass down and thought for a moment, "I like to watch TV, and um, listen to music."

Zayn burped, nodding to himself. "Cool, cool. I..." he actually giggled and she swooned, "I draw a lot."

"Would've never guessed," she giggled, "with you being an artist and all."

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes, drinking the last bit of the bottle and setting it down, "that was really good."

Crissle hiccuped and giggled again, making Zayn laugh.

"That was seriously adorable."

"Thanks," she relaxed, "it's really hot in here."

"So take off all your clothes."

"Not all of em," she hiccupped again, starting to pull her shirt off, "it's not working."

"What's not working?" Zayn asked, sitting up straighter.

"The shirt, it's broken," she whined, "help me, Zayn."

He laughed, reaching over and pulling her whole dress off of her. Now, Crissle sat with just a bra and panties on, her hair an absolute mess all over her face.

"That dress was tight," she stated, pushing some hair off her sweaty forehead. "I thought it was a shirt and that's why but didn't come off because it was a dress! Crazy, man."

Zayn licked his lips, staring at her chest in awe. "Was it?"

Crissle nodded like a kid, looking at her bare thighs as the heat went up to her cheeks. "Play a game with me."

"What game?" he grinned, matching her face.

"Okay, so," she sat cross legged on the couch, facing him, "like, um, you put...put your hands down like this, and I put mine like this," she put her palms on his warm ones and smiled, "and...and the key is to slap my hands before I pull away."

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh," he chanted, "I've played this b'fore," he faced her also and looked into her eyes, "ready?"

"Okay, go," she giggled when he missed her hands, "now...go!"

Zayn laughed drunkenly, managing to slap her hands twice out of the maybe forty times they played the game.

His fingers slipped in with hers and she smiled at them, humming and raising their hands to the sides of her face.

Crissle closed her eyes. "You're very warm."

He didn't say anything, just hummed at her comment and caressed her face like it was the most precious thing he'd ever touched.

Crissle took a deep breath and just like that, Zayn's lips captured hers and one of his hands rested on the back of her neck. She gave in immediately, smiling stupidly into the kiss and letting his tongue roam her mouth.