Bad // zaynmalik [on hold]

Chapter Five

"Zayn, this is a bad idea.." I whispered, listening to the sound of the TV playing downstairs.

"Everything I do is a bad idea." He smirked, taking a step forward, causing the floor to creak.

"Zayn!" I quietly scolded, wrapping my hands around his arm to make sure he wouldn't take another step.

"Relax, old houses creak all of the-" He stopped, noticing my hands tightly squeezing his bicep.

"Like what you feel?" He brought his eyes up to mine and smiled devilishly.

"What? Oh- Oh! No, I-" I removed my hands, bringing them down to my sides. "I wasn't like- no, I-"

Zayn laughed, "Are we going to get out of here or no?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." I stuttered, pushing the words out of my throat.

"Keep quiet." He reminded me, stepping further out into the hallway, creating more creaks.

He slowly brought himself towards the stairs, each step warier than the last. I trailed slowly behind him, shuffling across the hardwood floor in my socks. I planned on quickly swiping my pair of beat up, old converse beside the door before we left. Though they barely fit, and were dirtier than Makayla's sex life; I loved them.

After taking forever tiptoeing down the stairs, Zayn had made it to the bottom, pressing himself against the wall. He peaked around the corner, looking into the living room, exhaling with relief and turning towards me.

"He's passed out." He noted.

"Shh! He could wake up!"

"Doubt it." Zayn walked into the living room, grabbing something and coming back over to the staircase. He was holding an empty bottle of Tequila.

"Poor guy drank himself into a stupor."

"Stop," I ripped the bottle out of Zayn's hand. "let's go." I set the bottle on the stairs, walking passed Zayn. I slipped my Converse on and pulled the front door open.

"Shall we?"

Zayn nodded, "It's the motorcycle."

"What happened to your car?" I asked rudely, shutting the door behind Zayn.

"I switched it out; the bike is quieter. Plus my car is running low on gas."

"You do know I refuse to get on that thing?" I folded my arms across my chest.

"Then we won't get your car back."

I kept quiet, weighing out my options.

I took a deep breath, "Fine. No tricks, no speeding, and no sudden stops. Drive me to the school, then leave."

"Whatever you say, coward." He mumbled, walking over to his motorbike. I followed him, almost running into him when he turned around.

"I only have one helmet; put it on."

"But what if-"

"I never wear it anyway, so put it on."

"Alright.." I submitted, sliding the navy blue helmet over my head.

I watched as Zayn swung his leg over the dark colored bike, making himself comfortable on the seat.

"Get on and hold on." He instructed. I pulled myself up, resting my hands on his thin waist.

"Tighter than that." He tugged hard on my hands, forcing my chest against his back. I hesitantly wrapped my arms around him, basically hugged him from behind.