Secrets (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 13

"Where are we going?" I ask, as we walk down the busy streets. I wish I had worn a heavy jacket, really I should've known better than to even think London wouldn't be too cold. My teeth chatter, and Zayn glances at me, a smirk on his face.

"Would you like my jacket?" He stops to ask, sticking his hands in his pockets. His breathe comes out in a thick white cloud in front of my face, as the yellow street light cascades a glow on us.

"No, if I'm freezing then I know you will be too." I shake my head, and shiver.

"Good, because I wasn't going to give it to you." I look up at him in shock, and he bursts out laughing. For a split second, I thought he was serious but I can tell by the hint of sarcasm in his voice that he's kidding.

"Asshole." I glance around at the busy street life, suddenly interested in the way the cars crowd the streets, and people rush by us in their thick coats and warm beanies. I try my hardest to ignore his laughter, until I feel weight fall over my shoulders. I look down, and see a leather sleeve rested across my shoulder.

"I was kidding love, please take it. I'm sure you're freezing." He smiles at me as he wraps the other sleeve around me. His kind gesture makes me smile, and I begin to wonder why he isn't this nice all the time. My arms slip through the sleeves and wrap myself in the warmth of the cotton interior, my hair being cut short by the neckline.

"So again, where are we going? You completely dismissed my question."

"A nice little restaurant, down the street. It's quite nice, and I've never brought a girl here before." He smiles smugly. He seems proud of the fact, but I can't help thinking of how he's never had a serious relationship. And wonder what exactly that makes me.

"And don't you worry, they serve chicken." He nudges my elbow, and I crack a smile.

"Oh how thoughtful of you." I roll my eyes, but truly I find it funny how he remembered I eat anything with chicken in it.

We arrive at the restaurant and walk up the wooden steps. The door creaks open, and the bell above us rings in my ear. I fall in love with the style. The string lights stretched across the ceiling, and the faint music playing throughout the room. It's cozy, and comfortable. Feelings I've been searching for, for such a long time. A man approaches the front desk and asks us how many will be sitting with us.

"As if it wasn't fucking obvious." Zayn mumbles next to me.

I clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter, as the poor man glares back at us, mainly at Zayn. We're seated by the window, which gives us a view of the city and the violet, orange, pink, and blue sunset glowing behind the buildings around. People rush by, mothers with little children rushing down the sidewalk and business men talking on the phone that seems glued to their ears. I love the city of London, I just wish I loved the way I was raised in it.

"Ellana?" Zayn calls, waving a hand in my face.

"Don't call me that, or do that." I swat at his hand playfully, but actually annoyed by his hand so close to my face.

"Why?"

"I have a thing about my personal space. I can't stand when people put their hands in my face, or even stand or sit too close to me. If I can feel your breathe on my neck, you're too close." I finish my mini rant, and Zayn throws his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, didn't know that." He folds his hands together, and looks out the window before turning back to me. "That space rule doesn't apply to me right?" He smirks, the metal lip ring glowing blue from the sunset.

I look at him, puzzled. Although I'm not too sure what I'm thinking anymore, because I'm too distracted by him. I regret letting him give me my jacket, because now his fitted black suit shirt is on display. It's actually funny how he contradicts himself physically. The tousled, untouched black hair with a metal ring wrapped around his bottom lip. The surplus of tattoos covering his body, which although unseen, I know they're there. Yet here he is, dressed to perfection. The black fitted suit shirt, with one button undone at the top, revealing a bit of the artwork covering his body.