fifteen | baby

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"Baby, are you ready?" Zayn called from outside the bathroom, "we're gonna be late."

"Yeah. Yeah," she chanted, opening the door, "I just have to grab a jack--"

"Crissle, wow," he licked his bottom lip and sat on the bed while Crissle smiled, walking over to him, "what am I gonna do when we're at the business gala?"

Her dress wasn't even one to gush over. It was very fitted -- like all her other dresses -- and stopped right below the knees. The color was like an olive green and it wasn't a dress you'd go on a fancy date for, it was like...

Forever 21 type dresses. Because that's exactly where she got it.

"You just have to deal with it," she smiled, kissing his cheeks and pulling away, "I have to get shoes."

"Alright," Zayn let out a low whistle when she bent over and grabbed all white Adidas. Crissle blushed, turning around to see him lying across the bed, staring specifically at her ass.

"Quit staring," she swirled around and posed, "just kidding, keep going."

Zayn laughed, holding his hand up to his mouth. "You're adorable, baby girl."

"Baby, girl," she repeated the word, "dunno if I like that."

"I'm gonna keep calling you that," he replied with a grin.

"Wait," she pulled her now straight hair up, "up?" then she let go, "or down?"

"Down. Now, come on."

"You sound very uninterested," she pointed out.

"Oh, babe," he fake gasped, "keep it down you look absolutely fucking beautiful," he straightened up, the most bored look on his face, "happy?"

She giggled. "Very."



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"This looks nice," Crissle admired her lobster tails and her mouth started to water.

"DC has the best places for seafood," Zayn replied, "well, Baltimore, also."

"This is just a regular schmegular Red Lobster and it looks so good," she smiled, "what did you get?"

"Shrimp scampi," he looked up at her, "I hope this is good enough?"

"You could've taken me to Wendy's and I'd be happy as fuck."

He chuckled, watching her eat a lobster tail. "Why didn't you say so? Save me some money."

She giggled, covering her mouth to finish eating. "So..."

"So..."

"Is this a date?" she asked timidly.

"Ehm," he suddenly grew nervous, running his fingers over his beard, "I want to say yes, but...if...if that's not exactly what you want, then--"

"Zayn gimme your hand."

He looked at his hands, then back at her. "Why?"

"Just gimme it."

"Which one?"

"Doesn't matter, Zayn," she hummed, "the right one, I guess."

Zayn gave her a look before butting his hand in hers. Crissle slotted her fingers between his sweaty ones and squeezed them.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get you to calm down," she hummed, "because you're obviously flustered. Is it working?"

Zayn grinned. "Uh, yeah, yeah. You look very beautiful tonight, baby girl."

She scrunched her face and Zayn laughed. "Stop it."

"Nope."

"Zayn," she groaned in annoyance.

"Fuck, do that again," he licked his lip, bringing their hands closer to his chest, "beg for me."

"You are gross," she took her hand back and laughed at his expression, "stop pouting, you baby."

"M'not a baby."

"Yes huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yes huh!" she lightly kicked him under the table. Zayn raised his eyebrows, kicking her back.

"You know," she started, "according to Beyoncé, we were supposed to go to Red Lobster after you fucked me good."

"Right," he chuckled, "but Beyoncé forgot to mention I'm very confident in my stroke game so we went before."

Crissle rested her hand on her cheek. "Who said we were gonna fuck at all?"

"Your unhealthy infatuation towards me said that," he twirled his noodles on his place and took a bite.

"Who says it was unhealthy?"

"Me. I'm the doctor."

"We're playing doctor now? Kinky."

Zayn almost spit out his scampi. Crissle giggled, watching her boss eat his food messily and try to breathe again.

"Your mouth is on fire tonight," he said after he composed himself.

"Thank you. Anyway, ya know, we don't know each other that well."

"I agree," Zayn sipped on his soda, still watching her eat, "what do you wanna do about that?"

"I wanna know what you think I should know about you."

"Ehm, like my name and shit?"

"No, stupid. Like...your likes and dislikes, and what are your hobbies?"

"Well, for one, I don't like being called stupid," he grinned, "and...I mean, my hobbies are in my profession."

"Really? So, you don't like to read or watch TV?"

"There's some things I don't like doing by myself," he concluded, "watching TV...I don't know, I mean I do it. But...ehh."

"You have to watch TV with me, yeah?" Crissle chirped, "we can watch How to Get Away With Murder--"

"I watch that already."

"Are you serious? Zayn we have to go now."

"Why?"

"So we can start from the very first episode."

"Criss--"

"Baby, please," she pouted, trying the nickname out on her lips. Zayn's smile grew at that, but he still shook his head.

"We're on a whole date, babe."

"Baby," she smiled, walking over to his side and kissing his neck repeatedly. Zayn groaned playfully, squeezing her thigh and still shaking his head.

"Criss -- no -- baby," he huffed, smiling into the small kisses she gave him, "fine, fine! Shit."

She cheered, kissing him yet again and standing up. "Oh my gosh, come on."

"Okay, first of all, we're getting to go bags and extra biscuits," Zayn started, "then when we get to the hotel you're undressing right in front of me because I deserve it. I deserve the best."

She shrugged. "Cool with me."

He quirked an eyebrow. "You're okay with that?"

"Mhm. And guess what?" she leaned towards him so their foreheads were together.

"What?" he hummed.

"We can test out your stroke game, if you get lucky."



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SO SAY WHAT YOU WANNA SAY, WHAT YOU WANT

SHAME IS YOU WON'T SAY THAT TO MY FACE

#BEFOUR IT'S A FUCKING BOP DAWG

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