The Catch | Zayn Malik

The Catch ; Chapter 22.

22.

"Happy Birthday to ya', Happy Birthday to ya', Happy Birthday to ya', Haaaaappy Biiiiirthday!" The familiar, manly voice sang out. A pair of hands covered Blythe's hazel eyes, sending her into a frenzy of darkness. The voice continued to sing, which made Blythe laugh. Of course it couldn't have been one of the lads, as most of them were either busy or already said 'Happy Birthday' to her. A sweet scent of cologne came wafting up into Blythe's nose. Smelling the delicious scent, her nose twitched furiously. The pair of hands redeemed themselves as Blythe spun around to see the mystery guest.

"Boyce!" She called out, laughing. Boyce gave a hearty chuckle and wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey babe! Happy Birthday, I got your message a little while ago, busy at the studio!" He admitted with a crooked smile. Blythe shrugged and waved her hand off, indicating that it was nothing. She quickly glanced down to see what he was wearing. A pair of black dark jeans and a white 'Abercrombie & Fitch' t-shirt. And the cologne he had on was fantastic. The smell definitely tingled Blythe's mind.

"Wanna' dance?" Boyce offered, lightly intertwining his fingers with Blythe. Blythe's arm twitched as she looked down to see his fingers locked with hers. Blythe wasn't sure if she liked it or not. She was thinking that he was getting too far ahead of himself, as she only met him a few weeks ago and helped him instruct a dance class once. Yet, tonight, Blythe was feeling extra happy. Take a risk, you boring girl, she scolded herself mentally.

Blythe smiled and nodded her answer. Boyce gave her a dazzling white grin and leg her to the middle of the dance floor, where they both danced together to 'Moves Like Jagger'.

*

Zayn leaned against the bar, gripping the glass -containing vodka- in his hand. His chocolate brown eyes stared hungrily at the dancing Blythe, who was in fact with someone else on the floor. With their fingers laced together and heads tilted back laughing with glee, Zayn couldn't help to feel a pint of jealousy. Not because he was insanely in love with Blythe because he felt the exact opposite, but because she was dancing with someone she didn't know. Unless it was someone from her dance studio, but that young man looked too posh to become a 'dancer'. Or maybe, just maybe, Zayn was jealous of him?

'No!" Zayn cried, slamming the empty cup down onto the counter. The hip bartender looked at Zayn with furrowed eyebrows, but continued mixing drinks.

"What do you mean 'no'?" A female voice came ringing into Zayn's ears. Zayn turned his head to find Eleanor standing beside him, with Louis' arm around her hip.

"Uh, nothing." Zayn stuttered. Eleanor gave him a look and shrugged. Louis whispered something in her ear and left, heading towards the other end of the bar where the washrooms were. Eleanor turned around to face the dance floor and stood closer to Zayn. She kept on glancing at him to see what he was staring at before. Scanning the dance floor with her magnificent vision, she immediately spotted Blythe and a young man dancing together on the floor. Her mouth formed a cynical 'o' as she puzzled all the pieces together.

"Who's the guy she's dancing with?" Zayn asked, slightly leaning down into Eleanor's ear. Eleanor tried hiding her smirk, but she couldn't help it.

"Boyce, a dancer she met a few weeks ago." Eleanor answered. She remembered his name when Blythe told her over lunch a week ago. Eleanor had a strong memory that she was quite proud of.

"A dancer?" Zayn repeated, obviously guffawed. Zayn knew he couldn't complete with a dancer, if he had feelings for Blythe in which he told himself he didn't. But what if he did? Surely, Blythe would choose Zayn over Boyce, right? Zayn grunted and ordered another shot. Downing the vodka down, he growled and shook his head like a dog. He asked for one more shot, in which the bartender hesitated, but served him anyway.