Veronica [Zarry]

the fragility of love

Sunlight breaks through the windows. My eyes adjust to the light but not my unfamiliar surroundings. The soft snores beside me are coming from Liam. He's shirtless, messy pile of clothes strewn on the floor.

Tell me I didn't give myself away on the first night. I spring out of bed, discover I'm still in my boxers. A temporary wave a relief washes over me as no recollection of sex comes to mind. Maybe he just sleeps naked.

He stirs, smiles sheepishly and I crawl back into bed. His arms wrap around my waist, fingers card through my hair. "You seem distressed."

"Just a bit flustered," I laugh nervously. "We didn't-"

"No," he confirms, leaving a lingering kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry if you're disappointed or-"

"Not at all," I smile. "My head is throbbing but that's another thing."

"I didn't want you to get completely hammered but you had quite a bit of fun up there. See that stack," he asks, nodding towards his dresser.

"Yeah," I swallow thickly.

"You earned it babe. You're just that talented."

My head hits the pillow with a thud. I'm in disbelief, racking my brain as I try to remember what happened. "I need to call Claire," I say sitting up.

She picks up on the second ring, voice chirping. "Good morning sunshine, are you feeling okay? You were amazing last night," she brags. "Liam was swooning over you so much he had to take you home."

"Yeah," I blush. "You were right, thanks for believing in me."

"Come home, I miss you."

A smile sprawls across my face. I'm welcome so many places but I miss my family, ache for my father's acceptance. He thinks I'm a bartender, thinks Claire is my girlfriend. Maybe I stretched the truth...maybe I lied.

"I miss you too," my heart sinks in my chest. "I want to spend more time with Liam but I don't want you to ever think I'm replacing you."

"It's okay," she laughs. "Care about your own feelings as much as you care about mine. We can play video games and smoke weed after you go on a hot date, deal?"

"Deal," I exhale.

"Feel better," he asks, hand on my shoulder. "I'll go get you some water. We can get some waffles or something, that might help nurse your hangover."

"Yeah okay," I smile and he leaves before returning with a glass of cold water and two pills. "Trying to drug me," I joke.

"Maybe," he plays along. "Do you mind?"

"Shut up," I chuckle, cheeks flaming. Why does he have to look at me like that? My skin is on fire.

"You do trust me right?"

"Yeah I think so," I answer, swallowing the bitter pills.

"Good," he climbs on top of me, pins my arms above my head. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

"Do I seem scared?"

"No, just apprehensive. Relax for me babe."

My mind is screaming. I'm everything but ready. "Wait," my voice trembles. "I don't want to do this so soon. I think intimacy is special and that we should...we should wait," I finish, voice a mere whisper.

"My breakfast offer is still on the table," he grins as he moves away, standing before me in his naked glory.

I awkwardly clear my throat, tear my eyes away, blushing furiously. Why am I like this? Veronica would never.

"Like what you see?"

"I'm so fucking gay," I mumble.

In my defense, his hardness is beautiful. It makes me insecure but it's fine. It's cool. It's casual. He steps close again, stops at the edge of the bed and ruffles my hair. "You're so tiny and cute."

"And grumpy," I say, swatting at his arm.

"Nope. Still cute," he smirks. "You're so different-"

"When I'm Veronica?"

He nods, sighs quietly. "Yeah that. I like both sides of you but this feels much more real. The only downside is how reluctant you are to be physical. I'm scared I'll cross a boundary and fuck things up."

"There is something," my tone is hushed as I get out of the bed, sink helplessly to my knees.

"You gonna worship me," he teases. "I thought you were an angel."

"Must have misplaced my halo," I say, making him smile.

I suck him off rather sloppily, eyelids heavy, stuck in a daze but he doesn't complain, just tugs at my hair and snaps his hips. My knees burn but it doesn't matter. All I want to give him is pleasure. If it's at the expense of my own pain, so be it.

My eyes water as he hits the back of my throat but he doesn't let up, he just fucks my face like I'm a pro. I don't have it in me to admit that despite working at a gentleman's club, I'm quite the amateur at giving blow-jobs.

He shoots his load down my mouth, travels to the bathroom and I'm left reeling. What now? There's carpet burn on my skin and a burn in my cheeks. I hear the water run over the sound of my heart. There's static noise in my ears and my mind feels fuzzy, like a telly with a poor signal.

My dick is painfully hard but the bathroom door is closed and he seems so far away.

The door cracks open and he peeps around the corner. "Zayn," he chuckles. "Are you alright love?"

I shake my head, tear slipping down my cheek. He's dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, it looks soft and worn so I bury my face in it.

"Did I hurt you," his voice shakes.

"No," I reply, vocal chords straining. "I just hate how submissive I am, it makes me feel weak."

"I didn't mean to push you, Zayn I'm sorry. There's no need to be upset."

"Liam," my chest feels tight. "I think I should go."

"Are you sure," he asks. "You're always welcome here."

"And I appreciate that but I need to work on saying no."

"Love is fragile Zayn, I get that."