resolution♔ z.m

35%

My need has grown for someone else, and I feel funny about it.

       So much time has passed since the moment Giselle had opened up the offer to Zayn about being his rebound. If it was something you’d tell him the moment they ran into each other (literally,) he’d laugh and say “not even the odds will believe in that.” Now that he was sitting in the club, sipping up his chardonnay, he watched his band mates have fun. They had forced him out of bed (forced him meaning pulled him out and dragged him across the floor,) which was worth it at the end. Apparently, Vera had announced she was seeing someone new on national TV. His heartbreak was no more a secret. He could see it when people looked him in the eyes and asked how he was. “Fine,” he’d usually say, “never been better,” he’d smile, nod and wave them goodbye. It became a routine, a thing that he felt accustomed to do as though it was his second job. It fooled everyone but Giselle because she was still stuck up into his ass most of the time. There never was a moment he didn’t want to tell her to leave him alone. Harry said Giselle might do him good and he’d be the first to wear a shirt with a picture of them together. He laughs to himself.

        Still drinking his chardonnay, he looks into the distant where Giselle dances with a random guy he has never met before. From this moment, Zayn could feel himself become slightly light headed from all the drinks he has been taking and he had this weird sensation pulsing in his heart that he had to do this. It was like an instinct, a very forceful push. He had no idea if she felt it too, because she has been giving him looks, ones that were telling him to come over yet stay where he was, a sort of repay for being an asshole. He agreed he was being an asshole. He has been trying to make everyone feel so negative. How selfish, he thought. Feel so close by Calvin Harris comes on and the crowd feels pumped, they all begin to jump, which crowds the place. He leaves his empty glass and trails smoothly to her, feeling a little nervous as the beat increases and that guy with her comes too close to her body, he could sense she felt uncomfortable.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re dancing with,” he tells the guy, who had spiky brown hair and marine blue eyes.

“Sorry man,” he backs off with a sly smirk and finds another girl within no time.

“You really didn’t have to.” She confesses over the loud music, coming a little closer. She looks at him from beneath her lashes, sort of a little shy, which was new to him because she was usually always confident and bossy.

“You looked disturbed and as much as I don’t like you, I couldn’t stand to see you suffer,” he laughs to her, though a little part of him was dying to touch her waist. The sane part of him was trying to resurface but he has been craving to have this moment for so long, he couldn’t drop it all now and ditch.

“You see, there is still some decency in you.” She keeps coming closer, closer and closer. Now her eyes were surely fixed on his. Maybe it was the moment to touch her, he didn’t know.

       “Always has been.” Screw it, he thinks to himself before grabbing her by her waist and bringing her inches to his face, noses rubbing against each other. If anyone else was watching, they’d probably feel the electric field growing in between their bodies. It was absolutely insane to experience this sprouting need in your lips for someone else. He wanted to kiss her and kiss her hard. He wanted to touch her body until his hands felt numb, he wanted to feel her hands on his back, he wanted to feel the high of her, but he was so afraid to cross the line even if the chance was still open. Was it so normal to think about someone but Vera this way? He wishes he could read Giselle’s mind when he touched her. Did she want to do this? The only way to answer this was to ask, and ask he couldn’t because he still wasn’t over Vera, even if Vera was over him. “Can we head back to my room tonight?” he whispers into her ear, his hands running down to her hips. It was so wrong. His guilty consciousness was eating him up inside, but he wanted her very much.

“Can we head back right now?” which was enough to find them back in his room, kissing every inch of their skin and peeling off clothes as though it was easy as saying your alphabetic letters. He knew it was wrong. It was having the right thing at the wrong time, but he moans down her chest how much he wanted to do this, and she reciprocates with a few marks on his neck and lips. It was crazy, and he felt funny about it.