Caught | 1D AU

7.

I scraped my fork at the sauce left in my bowl, but it slipped through the tines. I looked over at him, he had been adamant about scooting up right next to me on the couch so that our shoulders touched. Now his head tilted back against the cushion, and his eyes were closed. His empty spaghetti bowl rested in his lap. He must not have slept in two days. The fire was starting to die out now, and I could hear an owl hooting outside.

I tried to stand up, putting all of my pressure on my good foot. How far could I get hopping? I hopped to the counter, almost falling until I grabbed onto it with one hand, and put my bowl down on it, trying not to make a noise, but it chittered as the fork bounced around. On the couch, he fell sideways, and his bowl fell out of his lap, but he didn't wake up. I looked out the small window over the sink, but I couldn't see anything except my own reflection because of the one 40-watt light bulb buzzing on the ceiling.

If I could find his keys I could take his car... I'd have to drive with my left foot which would be awkward, but nothing impossible. I looked through the drawers in the kitchen, but it was all just bottle openers and silverware, a few lighters. Nothing hanging on the walls. I hopped to the bedroom, and looked in, there were two nightstands on either side of the king-sized bed. A small cot folded up against the wall. Two backpacks sat on the big bed. One of them I noticed was a dark purple with small stripes, an old one I used to use for high school. Weird. Did he break into my apartment and take it? I hopped over and sat down on the bed to pull it closer and unzip it. Inside was an assortment of my clothes. My stomach dropped as I realized that he had gone through my things, maybe more than once. It meant that he just as easily could have taken me from my own home. Another part of me was relieved that it meant I wouldn't have to stay in this tiny dress I had only worn to get Zayn's attention. I picked through the clothes until I found a T-shirt and leggings. I slipped the leggings on and checked out the doorway to make sure he was still asleep on the couch before I took my dress off over my head and quickly covering up with the T-shirt. I crawled onto the bed toward a nightstand, and pulled the drawer open, but it was empty, and so was the other one.

I looked back out the doorway at his head of curls sunk into the couch cushion and wondered if he kept the keys on him. Probably in his pants pockets. How risky would it be to check? I slipped off the bed and hopped up behind the couch. It was positioned in the middle of the room to be close to the fireplace. I peered down at him. There was a peacefulness in his face, all the muscles relaxed. There were no creases in his eyelids, his lips were slightly parted. I looked at his pants pockets, he was wearing black skinny jeans. I could see the front and the back of his right side. And in his front pocket was his phone. It was an understatement to say that my mouth watered at the possibility of communication with the outside world.

I watched his face as I reached down toward his pocket, looking for any sign that he might wake up. My fingers lightly touched the fabric of his jeans, and then I curled them around the rectangular shape, and tried to ease it out of the pocket. He lifted his arms out in a stretch as his head fell further down the cushion toward the arm of the couch. His fingers brushed my cheek, and I pulled my hand away from his pocket as his eyes fluttered open.

He looked up at me and smiled, keeping his hand up by my cheek, then curling his fingers around the ends of my hair. "You look like an angel," he murmured. Then his eyes closed, but his fingers were still tangled in my hair, pulling my head down until I was all the way bent over the couch, and my face was an inch from his chest, giving me a whiff of his cologne. I searched for his hand through the tangle of my hair and tried to get his fingers out and unwrapped, but before I was finished his other hand was on my shoulder, lightly tracing it, pulling me closer, and his hand released my hair just to grab onto one of my hands. I was laying across the top of the couch, halfway above him, using one hand pressed into the cushion right beside his chest to prevent me from falling on him. He pulled on my shoulder more, and my elbow bent under the pressure, and that was it. I was lying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and didn't let go, murmuring in his sleep, "Baby."

I figured he really wouldn't notice now, so took my hand out of his, I reached between myself and the couch cushion down into his front pocket and worked at wiggling the cellphone out. Eventually I got it out and held it between two fingers by our hips. I brought it up toward my head and had to hold it above his arm to see it since he was squeezing me. With only one hand holding it, I had to move slowly, and make sure I had a good grip so it wouldn't fall down and I worked my fingers closer to the on off button.

I squeezed the button and got the screen to turn on, lighting up to a lock screen. Up in the corner shown a no signal, no internet, 50 percent battery. I tried to enter a code anyways, 1234 and it still wanted more numbers, so I added 56, but it denied that, so I tried 000000, and I got a wrong PIN message again. I tried one more time, and it locked up for two minutes. "Damnit," I whispered.

"Ssshhhh," he said, pulling me closer to his face. We were really close, I suddenly noticed how pressed up against him I was, how warm he was against me compared to the cool air, and how I didn't exactly mind the warmth. "Everything's fine," he murmured, "I'm going to take care of you." He rolled me sideways, and I was stuck between him and the couch. I rested my head on his arm, realizing that it was going to be a long night.

NOTE--

Boy oh boy a lot has happened since last week. I started swiping through tinder, ya know? And I was biding my time trying to find a good rebound, but then I got mad at exboyfriend real bad last night because we were supposed to be being friends, except he's still lying to me, so I got really sad because he was supposed to be this person I could count on, and now I have to stop thinking about him like that. So three nights ago I actually agreed to meet up with this guy. We met up in the parking lot, (I know I'm an idiot), we made out in the soccer field. He convinced me to go back to his place. (I know, still an idiot.) But I really like him, and we've been hanging out ever since then, and he treats me right, and holds my hand, and kisses me in public. (I know, I have low standards.) I gotta go right now, actually because he's here to pick me up, se you guys later,

Fruity