Falling Over Me | Demi Lovato
"No, no -- ew, God no," I shook my head, tossing countless numbers of blouses and pants and skirts and dresses from my closet and onto the floor behind me. Nothing was catching my eye and I had two hours -- two -- until Zayn would be here and I still didn't have a clue of what to wear and now I was starting to stress out. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.
What the hell was I supposed to wear anyway? I mean, I didn't want to look too dressed up and I didn't want to be underdressed either. And I had no clue to where we were going for dinner -- would it be fancy or casual or a mixture of both? I tugged at the roots of my hair nervously. My heart was starting to beat faster and I couldn't keep up.
Come on, Jan, come on.
I turned around and took a seat on the edge on my bed, pulling my knees up and resting my elbows on them. Why was I so nervous in the first place? After all, it was just Zayn so I had no reason to be reacting this way. But then again it was just Zayn so I had every reason to be acting like I was.
And then my phone buzzed from the side of me, vibrating though the covers, and I forgot that I'd been texting Zayn this whole time. I picked up my phone to see a new message from him sitting at the top of my screen. And then I smiled -- I smiled hard -- because there was a picture attached. I slid my phone unlocked, clicking on the photo, revealing a selfie of Zayn pulling some weird face at the camera. It got me to relax and laugh a bit because he was so darn cute, but then I realized that he was shirtless, tattoos fully exposed and all, and now I was dry heaving like a panting puppy who craved a bowl of water.
I had to learn how to control my emotions whenever something dealing with Zayn came up because one day I'd slip in front of him and that'd just be weird. I didn't really need that in my life at all.
It took me a while to send one back seeing as I kept deleting and retaking the pictures until I was finally satisfied with one. I locked my phone again, turning it upside down and setting it on the bed again before I forced myself to get back up to continue searching for an outfit I could wear tonight.
Hopefully I could find one soon because I still had to fix my hair and do my makeup, and, oh dear god, I needed to hurry.
***
An hour and thirty long minutes later and I had finally finished getting ready, leaving me with thirty more minutes to spare. I felt so accomplished but then I was getting paranoid because was my outfit even good enough? Could I do better than high waisted pants and a cute blouse? Was it too much?
I felt my palms beginning to sweat and my knees beginning to shake. I was a big worrier and now wasn't the appropriate time at all for me to be such a worry wuss. I was thinking too damn much and stressing out about something so small. I was just nervous, really. I liked Zayn a lot, like a lot, a lot, and I just wanted this date to be perfect. I wanted everything to go right and be wonderful and I wanted to not have to think and think and think too much about anything. I wanted to let go and have fun.
"Okay, Jan, you can do this." I encouraged myself. I looked at myself in the mirror, tucking my hair (which I slightly curled into loose waves) behind my ears, giving myself a small pep talk. But then there was a knock at my front door, and oh my fucking god, Zayn was here. Zayn. Was. Here.
And then I went into panic mode. I was hopping around like my floor was covered in hot coals, flailing my arms like a baby bird who was just learning to fly.
I paced back and forth and back and forth and -- knock, knock -- Zayn was waiting. I had to stop. I took two deep breaths, maybe three. I smoothed out the non existent wrinkles in my shirt and squeezed my eyes shut. Now, I wasn't exactly one to pray to the God above us, if there was one, but I definitely made sure I did right now. Hopefully he'd answer my prayers.
I slowly walked to the front door, cautiously wrapping my sweat covered hands around the knob. This was all or nothing. Here I go...
When I opened the door, finally, it looked as if Zayn was just about to knock again. Then he stopped himself because the door was wide open, and his eyes bucked and his mouth turned up into a nervous smile. Then those golden eyes of his scanned my body up and down and I swear his eyeballs doubled in size. But then he quickly retaliated, coughing a bit.
"Hey, um, Jan," he waved. Jesus did he look amazing. Not that he hadn't before but god dammit he was perfect. His hair was perfectly sculpted -- he looked amazing as usual and I'd never get over it. I'd never get over him.
"Hi," I smiled shyly. I wanted to scream so loud, at the top of my lungs, 'ZAYN, YOU ARE SO GOD DAMN PERFECT', but I decided against it. I didn't want to scare him off at all.
"Should we get going?" he asked with raised eyebrows -- why did he have such great eyebrows? And so I grabbed my bag and met him at the doorway once again before locking the door behind me.
This was it. This was the start of our date. Hopefully I didn't fuck it up.
Zayn's POV
The car ride was pretty quiet for the most part. It wasn't that neither of us had anything to say, it was just that we were probably both so nervous (well at least I was -- I was shitting bricks) that we couldn't say anything. I would glance at Jan every now and then from the corner of my eye and I swear my breaths would get caught in the back of my throat every time.
It was like the more I thought about being alone with Jan on our first date the more I thought of ways it could all go wrong. The more I thought of things that I'd say to mess it up, the more I thought of things I'd do to make things go wrong. But I hadn't messed anything up so far so I guess I could relax.
I wouldn't say the car ride there was long because it really wasn't. It just felt like days because I was so anxious. But then we finally made it there and I really hoped Jan liked Chinese because that's what we were going to eat, and oh god, what if she doesn't? What if she's allergic? What if it makes her gassy? I mean not that I'd like her any less if it did, of course.
Now I was getting kind of nervous, the collar of my flannel seemed to be getting tighter with each second. And now we were pulling into the lot of the restaurant, which happened to be my favorite restaurant, and my mind was going wild. I felt like I was loosing it.
"You alright there?" Jan asked, the sweetest, most caring smile on her face. If she was as nervous as I was she sure did hide it well.
"Y-Yeah, I'm -- you do like Chinese, right? Because this is a Chinese restaurant and it happens to be my favorite and I wasn't sure if you'd, like, like it or not. I mean if you don't we can always go somewhere el--"
"Zayn, I love Chinese. It's okay," she giggled, placing her hand over my shoulder and I couldn't lie and say that it didn't help me relax because I actually felt myself calming down a little.
I was whipped. I was so whipped and I wouldn't even try to deny it.
***
sorry, but you'll just have to wait for the next chapter for the date to start (;
I'm an evil person.
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January. // z.m. au
Fanfiction"Zayn," he spoke, smoke leaving his lips once again as he dropped the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with his dark boots. His hand darted in between us as he awaited a response. "January," I said faintly, grabbing his hand. "N...