Deep Desires (Zayn Malik)

16

"I want a sandwich," Zayn states while I tap my foot against the kitchen tile and put my hand on my hips. "With extra mayonnaise."

"Why would I make you a sandwich?" I ask smiling even though I know the answer. "It's barely ten in the morning." I laugh and lean against the counter.

"You promised a day where I'd get anything I wanted, and it is barely ten in the morning but the annoying couple are still sleeping and we are all alone," He smiles and sends me a wink. "And I want a sandwich."

"Okay, fine, you win." I laugh and take out two pieces of bread and slam on some ham from the fridge, and then adding cheese and 'accidentally' forgetting to put mayonnaise on it.

I put the sandwich on a plate and put it in front of him and taking a seat across the table. "There's your sandwich." I put my head in my hand and lean on top of the table.

"Thanks slave." He jokes and takes a bite before spitting it out. "This does not taste like high in fat mayonnaise, I can't eat this."

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't what I asked for at all." He folds his arms across his chest and growls.

"Aww the poor diva." I whine. "Eat your food and don't complain."

"This is gross," He whispers under his breath. "But it's okay."

"What? Your talking very quietly," I laugh and he closes his eyes and squeezes them tight. "Is there something in your eye? Do you need me to get it out for you?" I pout my lip and he opens his eyes, them watering slightly from him squeezing them so tightly.

"Yes, it hurts." He talks like a baby and I can't help but to stand over him when he turns to face me in his chair. I grab his eyelid and open it and he hesitates while I blow into it.

"I don't see anything." I say.

"Just keep blowing in my eye." He says and then quickly adds. "Slave." I chuckle and continue my job of blowing into his eye.

"Yep, just like that Trish." He smiles and his hands grip my back, pulling me forward.

"Zayn..." I say while he pinches my backside.

"There a problem?"

"Nope." I respond and he hops up from his seat quickly, grabbing me closer to him and pushing his lips on to mine. "What about your eye?" I ask as his lips suck on the skin under my jaw.

"What eye?" He laughs and I join him; the kiss deepens and I grab his cheeks, pulling him forward towards me even more. I attempt on walking backwards towards the counter, but I trip over my own feet a couple of times, so Zayn helps me walk backwards towards the counter, pulling me up off my feet and setting me down on the cold metal.

His hands run through my hair and move around my cheeks, body, and stomach every few seconds. "Let's go on a date." He states.

"What?" I ask in confusion, first we are kissing and now he just randomly says he wants to go on a date, men, the most confusing creatures put on this earth.

"A real," His fingers trace the sides of my thighs and he draws tiny little circles from my knees slowly towards my upper thigh. "Date."

"What?" I mutter again.

"Let's go on a real date, we never have gone on a real cliche drive in, and cheap dinner date." He smiles down at me from his position between my legs, "A real, real date."

"I'd have to think about it." I tease.

"Trish, don't play that game with me," He laughs but quickly tries to be serious by scrunching his eyebrows together and forcing his lips into a line. "Say yes, because a date would be the best thing ever with me, the Zayn, your Zayn, a date all night long, possibly, maybe not all night but you get the point."