All I Need In My Life Of Sin [Zeigh One Shot]

Leigh chewed silently, simply watching as Zayn drew in his old tattered notebook. If he wasn’t obsessing over that thing, writing down random notes, drawing random figures and doodles, he was judging her, grimacing at her ranch and ketchup combination she chose to enjoy with her fries.

 It was yin and yang with them. He was constantly alert, tense, and anxious most of the times, where she was completely cool, calm and collected, always amused at the fact that he could still be nervous after all this time. He would deny it to the ends of the earth, but the way his leg shook under the table, or how he would sometimes just grip his pen until his knuckles were white, even the way he gnawed at his lip all gave him away.

 Leigh let her foot slide up his shaking leg, between his thighs, giving his little Bradford bad boi a nudge with her toes. “You know it’s not too late to go the bathroom. Release some tension.” She smirked as she offered; winking at the glare she got as a response. She knew for a fact he liked that shit, so she wasn’t too bothered. The smirk stayed on her lips as she popped another fry in her mouth, looking out the window as she hummed to herself. She was a singer at heart; it had always been her dream. Be a singer, make a career out of it. End up filthy rich and dirty famous, have two of everything she wanted, just because she could have it. Growing up dirt poor like she did, she always wanted everything too much. She wanted her mother to be able to keep a job, wanted her father to come back after he walked out on her. She wanted everything, because she had put in enough of the grunt work to deserve it. But that was the first mistake: working for things instead of just taking them. She had learned that lesson well. Her fingers came up to play with the strands of her short red bob, tugging at it absent mindedly.

 “Babe?”

 Leigh looked back over the table, his anxious expression hidden underneath the big dark aviators he put on. The book was gone now, tucked away in the backpack he carried around everywhere with him. She smiled softly, reaching over to take his hand. They needed each other, that much was obvious. It had been obvious since they first laid eyes on each other. One of the best hang out spots in their slums was the docks, there were constant ragers. Sometimes it was breaking into random boats that had been stupid enough to actually dock there (these docks weren’t really the place you would leave a damn boat, you know) or just some assholes working to make the biggest makeshift bonfire possible. He had been tagging an old canoe, a huge scrap of metal that had been there for ages, and she was getting as knackered as possible before she actually had to head home. She was flightly and free and drunk and careless, he was concerned and sweet and sexy. It was in Leigh Anne’s nature to want things too much. Zayn was the first thing to want her back just as much.

 “I love you.”

 A soft smile graced her features as she nodded. She was pretty sure her heart would always flutter when he said it. Nothing got to her like those simple words from his mouth. Not even the thrill she got when she slid her 9-mm glock out of the top of her boot, the cold metal pressing against her knee for a moment.

 “Promise?” she breathed out, licking her lips quickly as a quick laugh slipped from them.

 “Promise.” He brought her gloved hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it and squeezing for a moment, before he let her hand fall and stood up abruptly at the table, his voice harsh as it barked out “Everyone on the fucking ground! Now!” It was wrong how hot he was when he did this, scared the living shit out of innocent people, waving a gun in the faces of terrified “victims”. She hated the words, how it required pity. But why should she pity them? There was nothing stopping any of these people from stepping up, tackling one of them to the ground, snatching a gun away from them. Hell, they could have at least tried. Instead they cowered over tables, doing what they were told. Why? Out of fear? Leigh Anne had lost the luxury of using that as an excuse by now. So she never felt bad about it. And Zayn was sex on legs when he had a gun in his hand, so she couldn’t let herself be too bothered by it. This had become routine by now. They had hit up several diners, gas stations, even super markets before they had gotten to Donna’s, with its soggy fries and watery milkshakes. It wasn’t exactly the high life, but they already had more money than they could have hoped for if they had stayed put in their shitty homes, and they had seem much more of the country then anyone would have thought possible for them. It wasn’t ideal, but it was getting them by. Honestly, it was better than any other life she could have asked for.