New Beginnings {A Zayn Malik fan-fiction}

Chapter 6

Sorry to those who like this fanfic.

Zayn pulls away and I just look at him. I don't move to get off his lap I just sit there staring at him like a fucking retard.

"Skye... Erm..." When his cheeks flush as he stumbles over his own words I practically jump off of him. He stands up slowly and continues. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to... Erm." Theres no way I can run. What the fuck do I do?

"No it was--erm... Nothing! It's fine! I'm kinda tired..." I trail off gesturing toward the couch. Deciding to try and shove all the suffocating awkwardness to the side. But he's not having it. Shit.

"I didn't mean, like..." Dammit you're just making it worse, Malik. "I just didn't want to, like... yah know..." I know exactly what he means and I've only just met the boy. What the hell is wrong with me all of a sudden?

"I know I get it!" I try, desperately, to escape the conversation. But somehow Zayn feels the need to awkwardly explain himself further.

"No. I mean I totally would--" He stops short of finishing his sentence and I silently thank god. But I got ahead of myself. More seemingly random words fall from his lips in a rush. "I... just... I don't think you're that type of girl and I don't want to make you seem like you are and I just..." He trailed off thinking about what he just said as a horrified look crosses his face. Fuck.

"I know what you mean." I try to save him from the embarrassment of his own words.

"I want to take you out on a date or get to know you and not have you sneak out to go to parties with me." He seems more aware of his own words now. "Will you go out with me this weekend, Skye?" He asks, smile returning.

"Only if you stop talking." I laugh and he joins me with amusement. The conversation stops there. I go to sleep on his couch and he goes into his room leaving the door open and telling me that if I need anything not to hesitate in disturbing him. He turns to smile at me brightly one more time before turning the hall light off. My mind isn't clouded with bad things that happened as I fall asleep, like it would've been on a normal night. Instead Zayn's stuttered, awkward words plus the scent of him on the pillow I'm using and the soft fabric of his t-shirt make me want to laugh as I fall asleep.

~The Next Morning~

When I wake up to the faint scent of Zayn's cologne and breakfast my face is stuck to his pillow with a slight layer of sweat from my face.

I sit up slowly and rub the drowsiness from my eyes.

I try to push back the thoughts of my drastic, desperate, and inconceivable actions last night and I try to focus on the smell coming from the down the hall. It smells like fruit. Fruit, and pancakes.

I stand up and try to pretend it's almost possible to forget that I'm wearing Zayn's shirt as I walk down the short hallway to the sound of a pan sizzling.

When I open the door, just a bit, I'm rewarded with the cutest sight I've ever seen.

Zayn is a good two feet away from the stove with a spatula in one hand and the handle of the pan he's using in the other. There are two pancakes on a plate next to the stove and they're both deformed and charred.

My presence is given away when a loud giggle escapes my lips and I cover my mouth right before Zayn turns, quickly, to glare toward me.

"Laugh at my efforts, and you don't get any food." He threatens and I laugh harder.

"I wouldn't eat that if someone paid me." I point at the plate on the counter. He smiles slightly and puts another burned misshapen pancake on the plate.

So, very short chap. And I'm putting this on hold because I'm terrible at updating. Sorry. And I' be an idiot if I didn't use this perfect opportunity for a terribly cliched line. It's not you it's me.