Chapter 22

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Daisy's POV
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I woke up surrounded by sunlight, the fresh scent of linen beneath my nose. As I sat up, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to my surroundings. I was in Zayns room. How I got there was unclear, although I was pretty sure Zayn carried me. The only thing that freaked me out was how he did it without waking me up. I looked around the room to see if my phone was near, then I remembered I left it on the coffee table.

I threw off Zayns large comforter, or as he calls it, 'duvet'. My bare feet touched the wooden floor and I saw my oxfords on the side of the bed with my socks draped over. I quickly slipped my socks on before padding across the floor. It was much too cold to endure barefooted.

Before I even reached the living room, I could smell some freshly cooked bacon.

"Hello?" I called out, not knowing who would answer - if anyone.

"I'm in the kitchen, babe." Zayn said. I followed his voice and found him hovering over the stove. He was still shirtless like the night before, but now had some charcoal sweats loosely hugging his hips. And, from what I could see, he changed his underwear.

"Morning." I hugged him from behind, wrapping my arms under his.

"Good morning." He laughed.

"Why are you up so early?" I asked and he turned around in my arms.

"It's 11." He laughed before bending down to kiss my nose.

"Still. I'm used to waking up first."

"Well technically I didn't sleep at all, so yeah. You still woke up first."

"Why didn't you sleep?" I cupped his face and ran my thumb along his eyebrow. As weird as it sounds it seemed to comfort him. He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand.

"Not tired."

"Hmmm." I continued to stroke along his cheekbones. "Are you cooking?"

"Yeah. I hope you're hungry."

"What's for breakfast? Did you burn anything?" I laughed.

"Oh!" He wiggled out of my arms and I stepped to the side. "No, I made French toast." He grinned widely as he flipped the bread. "And, I hope you don't mind that I made turkey bacon. We don't eat pork."

"It actually smells good. I'm impressed." I laughed.

"Here. You can start making a plate." He said and pulled some already cooked toast and bacon out of the microwave. "You make them prettier than I do." He laughed.

We enjoyed our meals in sync, both of us soaking in the peace and quiet. It wasn't awkward on my part, I was surprisingly comfortable.

When I finished eating, I had to fight Zayn just to wash my own plate. A battle of which I obviously won.

"We should probably get you home." Zayn said as he rinsed his own plate.

"Yeah, I gotta get ready for dinner tonight." I smiled.

"There's not going to be a dinner." I looked to see the humor in his face, but it wasn't there.

"Zayn, I promised your mom. I'm coming over for dinner whether you like it or not."

"Well I'm not driving you, so you have no ride."

"I could ask my dad." Does he really think he's my only mode of transportation?

"Daisy." He groaned.

"Why don't you want me over for dinner? It's not like I haven't been over here tons already?"

"It's different. This is with my mum. She's...she's something else." He shook his head.

"Well, I'm looking forward to it. I expect embarrassing stories and baby pictures galore." He sighed, I'm sure those were some of his worries.

"C'mon." He pulled my hand and led me to his room. I took a seat on the edge of his bed and leaned down to grab my shoes. "No, I got it." He stepped down and began to put on my shoes for me.

"I'm not a child." I laughed and went to take the shoes, but he smacked my hands away and shook his head. "Fine." I scoffed. "Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh..." I didn't know how to ask the question, it was a bit weird. "Where are your sheets?" His eyes widened immediately and I figured I knew the answer.

"Well...I was eating in bed. Like, a lot. And I uh...I got a lot of food in there." Oh...not what I thought he was gonna say.

"That's it?"

"Yeah." He shrugged and reached into his closet, pulling out a shirt and quickly throwing it on. "Kinda gross, really. I didn't even sit up to eat. I just laid there." I laughed at the image of him lazily eating in bed. "Alright, let's go." He held his hand out and helped me off of the bed.

It was then that I saw the mirror above his dresser, and the lamp shattered on the floor. "Did we have an earthquake I didn't know about..." I asked nervously.

"Oh....um..." He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tendency I had become to admire. "Well the lamp was an accident..."

"And the mirror?"

"I just.." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I got a little mad at myself is all." He shrugged.

"Did you punch it?"

"Yeah." He didn't even pause. "It's no big deal, Dais."

"My god! Did you cut yourself?!" I ran to him and pulled his fists into my hands, examining the knuckles. His left fist was fine, but his right hand was deeply bruised. I dropped his left hand to attend to the purple marks along his knuckles, lightly caressing the bruises.

"It's fine, baby." He opened his hand and pulled me to him.

"Did it hurt?"

"I can handle physical pain." His lips lingered above mine. "It's the mental and emotional pain that I struggle with." I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling his lips to mine. The taste of syrup was still strong on his mouth as I ran my tongue along his bottom lip. He opened only slightly, enough for me to slide my tongue in with his.

My hands traveled into his hair, tugging a bit. The action was rewarded with a soft moan as his hands clawed down my back. Normally he was gentle, but not then. He wasn't rushing, but he wasn't being careful either. The rough feel of his hands grabbing my backside sent chills up my spine.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders tight enough to support myself as he lifted me up. My back was firmly against the wall in seconds as his lips trailed down my neck. I took a sharp breath as he bit down, surely leaving a mark.

"Zayn!" I laughed.

"Hmmm." He hummed along my neck, causing goosebumps down my arms.

"I'm wearing a dress tonight. You can't mark me."

"That won't be a problem since there is no dinner." He continued to kiss my chest.

"Down." He looked up at me, confused. "Put me down." He complied. "Let's go." We walked to the living room, and I retrieved my things from the coffee table. "Here." I said, handing Zayn his key.

"Oh. Thanks." He admired it for a moment. "Alright, c'mon then." He grabbed his lanyard off of the hook by the door and led me to the garage.

We got in the car and drove the short ten minutes to my house. Eight minutes of which were spent screaming Usher and Nsync at the top of our lungs. A ride to remember.

When we got out of the car, Zayn walked me to the door and unlocked it for me. "Thank you." I laughed and walked inside, but noticed he didn't follow. "You gonna come in..?" I asked the boy standing awkwardly on my porch.

"No, I have somewhere to go." He rubbed his neck.

"Oh. Well alright. Thanks for the ride." I kissed his cheek. "You gonna pick me up for dinner or do I need to ask my dad?"

"Won't your dad already be at work?" He smirked.

"No. It's Sunday. He's off." He looked defeated.

"Yes, I'll be here." He sighed. "Be ready at 5:30." I nodded and kissed him goodbye. "Dress casual."

"I already told you, I'm wearing a dress."

"Yeah, good luck with that." He laughed and walked down to his car. I watched as he strolled off, his back muscles visible despite the shirt that loosely hugged his torso.

As his car pulled away, I closed and locked the door, heading back to my room. I plugged my phone in, because thanks to my luck it had died over night. When it finally lit up and turned on, the time read 1 o'clock. Where does he have to go that's gonna take over four hours? I wondered. Whatever. I have a shower to take.

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