MALIK :: ZAYN

sixteen | touch

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"Favorite movie?"

Zayn stopped typing, glancing at her before starting back up again. "I'd have to say Scarface."

"So violent, you are," she stretched her legs out on the desk, "okay, what's your favorite brand of shoe?"

"What kind of question," he laughed, "Criss, it's late."

And it was, exactly eleven o'clock at night. There was a lot of catching up to do since the two went to DC over the weekend. They had fun, talked in the hotel room all the time. Crissle was liking him more and more as each day passed, and she couldn't get enough of him.

He was fantastic.

"Zayn," she groaned, "we're supposed to get to know each other."

"We know each other."

"Not good enough."

"I'm sure we knew each other pretty well when you asked me what my penis size was," he looked at her knowingly, "and you've seen it before. Why'd you ask?"

"I wanted to know if you were gonna lie," she defended herself.

"How, Sway? You've seen it. Your mouth was on it, I put it in your--"

"Wooooooow," she dragged, "tell me more."

"I think I'm done for the night," he said, closing the laptop, "but I'll tell you more. Remember in the hotel when I bent you over the coun--"

"Zayn, stop," she whisper shouted as if someone else was here. They double and triple checked the place at ten before getting comfortable.

"And then in the shower, baby--"

"Zayn," she whined.

"Whine again," he hummed, "and then I'll bend you over this desk."

She shut her mouth and he laughed, packing his laptop bag and putting it on his shoulder.

"Come on, baby," he grabbed her hand, threading his fingers in hers and walking to the elevator, "are you coming to my place?"

"You...you're inviting me to yours?" because they usually hung out at hers or they were on trips which consisted of a hotel room.

Or they chilled in his car.

"Well, yeah," he leaned against the elevator wall and pressed for the ground floor, "I guess if you'd like to know more about me, we could chill at mine. Hope that's not too bad."

"No, no, just," she grinned from ear to ear, "you're opening up to me."

"God, Criss," he rolled his eyes, "you get so happy over the littlest things."

"No this is far from little," she shook her head, walking out of the elevator before him. Zayn reconnected their hands and she grinned wider as if it was possible. "And you're holding my hand--"

"Criss--"

"This is very new and I don't know how to feel."

"You feel different?" he questioned with a frown.

"No, no. Like...I don't know whether to kiss you or suck your dick," she shrugged.

Zayn grinned slyly. "You can do both, ya know?"

"Ugh, sick."

"Siiiiiiick," he grabbed her backside and kissed her lips, "you're like a cushion."

"Am I?" she reached up to kiss him again, "you're sexy."

"You're sexier," he whispered, "and I'm glad you're mine."