Bradford Bad Boy (a Zayn Malik Fanfic)

Chapter 7

A/N: Hey guys I have decided to make a minor change in the story, nothing drastic. I am now just writing in present tense instead of past tense, much easier :) Enjoy! xxx

Chapter 7

Rennie’s P.O.V.

It’s so strange. It’s only been a couple of weeks we’ve known eachother, and I feel like I have known him my whole life. Is this what love is?

What? No. I DO NOT love him; it’s impossible to love someone after only knowing them for a few weeks. Is it? He is consuming my thoughts; I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve never felt this way before.

I decide to text him and see what he’s up to, I am so bored and to be honest I would love to spend every minute of every day with him.

Uh, what?

Just as I am about to hit send to the text, there is a knock on my door. I quickly change out of my pj’s and put a bra on, a plain olive coloured muscle tee that bagged under the arms so you can see the side of my bra – there is no one to impress anyway – and some black leggings. I throw my hair up into a messy bun, and pad to the door.

I open the door, and of course there stood the perfect Zayn with a bundle of flowers. So cliché. I kinda just stand there in awe, my feet frozen. I was about to text him, and he turns up here? While I am wearing this? I AM WEARING THIS! Oh shit, fuck shit fuck shit fuck shit what do I do? There is an awkward silence, until I break my eyes away from his and I stare at my feet, cheeks turning red.

“Hello love,” His perfect sexy amazing hot raspy voice says. Uh, what is wrong with me?

“U-um, hi” Is all I manage to get out. Speak god dammit Rennie, speak! “What are you doing here?” There we go, a little better.

“I was bored off of my arse, so I though I could come visit you.”

“Here?”
Uh no shit, god why am I so stupid.

“Yes you muppet.” I don’t know what muppet means, but I don’t care I just love that accent.

“Oh, uh, come in?”

He steps inside, looking around. “Your apartment is beautiful Ren, are you sure only you live here?”

“I would hope so haha” Is all I manage to say. “Uh, take a seat, watch some T.V, whatever – I’ll just go get changed.”

“No don’t -” He said that utterly quick. His cheeks go pink. ”Uh, I mean don’t worry about it, it’s only me. You look good anyway.” He shuts his mouth as if he wasn’t supposed to say that.

I blush, little did he know it WAS only him, which was the reason I was getting changed. I want to impress him not look like a total homeless bum. He looks so sexy, with his white high tops, chinos, plain white t-shirt with a jean jacket pushed up at the sleeves. Oh and that signature sexy quiff his hair is swooped up as that I have grown to love. And here I am – no makeup, hair messy, gross clothes and no shoes. Yep, homeless bum it is.