safety// z.malik

iii. phobias

It's been a mere three days since my last encounter with Zayn Malik at the tattoo shop. In that time, I've had two shifts, at the local Chinese restraurant, I've went grocery shopping, and I finished yet another season of Criminal Minds. I'm totally living the dream. Louis decided that tonight, he would invite over our newest friends, and Stan, our best friend from Doncaster. Stan's staying at our flat for the whole week. I'm excited to see him; I haven't seen him in forever.

"Louis," I call from my room.

I stop applying my foundation halfway through, going to Lou's room. I knock, and he opens the door in a towel.

"Shouldn't you call for pizza?" I ask, resting my clean hand on my hip.

"But babe, I thought you were cooking," Lou winks, his bottom lip jutting out.

"You're lucky when I cook for you; you think I'm cooking for an extra five men? Nope, not ever," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Okay, fine, Sy."

I smirk smuggly, turning on my heels to go finish getting ready. I finish my makeup, and get dressed in one of my old university sweatshirts, and some blue skinny jeans. I have fuzzy, pink, ankle socks on. I'm so sexy. I giggle to myself, letting my hair cascade down my back in my natural waves. There's a knock at the door. I go and open it, knowing that Lou's still procrastinating in his room.

The curly haired boy from the other night is smiling down at me. His perfect smile is quite charming, the dimples in his cheeks even more so. He pushes his ringlets out of his face, nodding down at me. I let him in.

"Welcome to our humble abode," I smile, showing him to the living room.

I rush to Lou's room, bursting the door open to find a fully dressed Louis. Thank God, I've walked in on naked Louis before (not something I want to experience again).

"Your guests are arriving so get out there, prick," I smile, sweetly. He sprays his cologne, walking out briskly.

I follow him into the living room, where curly is waiting. They chat for a few minutes until the next guest arrives. I kind of just stand there awkwardly, while Louis runs to the door.

"I'm Harry, by the way," curly smiles.

"Nice to know that, Harry. I'm Sydney, but you already knew that," I reply, blushing. He lets out a laugh.

The next person to come in is the bubbly blonde, who introduces himself as Niall. The man with the buzzcut is next, who I now know as Liam. Zayn is next, who immediately claims the spot beside me, that no one else has taken. When the last knock sounds, Louis runs to get it, to find Stan. I follow behind him.

"Stan, the man," Lou grins, taking Stan's bag to his room.

As soon as Stan spots me, he opens his arms. I feel other eyes on me, making me feel uncomfortable. I can feel my breath rate speed up. Stan lifts me up, carrying me into the kitchen.

"How have you been?" Stan asks, kissing my forehead.

"I've been pretty good. Thank you," I whisper.

"It's important that you're okay," he smiles.

Footsteps come closer, and I am put down by Stan, beside the island. I look towards the shuffling feet to see Zayn. He nods at Stan, shaking hands. Stan leaves silently.

"You okay?" Zayn asks.

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's nothing to worry about."

"I don't believe you."

"It really doesn't concern you," I mumble, inaudibly.

"Hm?" Zayn hums, leaning on the counter top.

"Nothing."

"Tell me. I'd like to know."

"It's just about my fears," I sigh. My cheeks go red, from the blood that rushes to them.

"Atelophobia," Zayn sighs, his eyes closing. His eyelashes cast a shadow on his cheekbones (and since when did that ever happen in real life). "I have it."

"Hm?"

"Really. I do. I have the-"

At the same time, we both finish his sentence, "fear of imperfection."

"I do too," I whisper.

I slide myself onto the counter of the island. Zayn slides himself between my legs.

"Aeroacrophobia," I state, looking at the ceiling. "The fear of high, open places."

"Chorophobia. The fear of dancing." His hands slide firmly on my thighs, his thumbs rubbing circles into my jeans.

"Philophobia. The fear of falling in love."

"Aquaphobia. The fear of water."

"Autophobia. The fear of being alone."

We just stare at each other for a while. I take in his cute button nose, and pale pink, plum lips, and his curved eyebrows, and his cheekbones and jaw that could slice an apple, and his thick fan of dark eyelashes that frame his sparkling, hazel eyes. And yeah, I still really, really want to kiss the life out of him. That's until Louis interupts us.

"Since I'm busy being a good host, would you mind picking up the pizza?" Louis calls.

"Mhm," Zayn replies.

"We should, uh, go," I sigh.

Zayn nods, following me through the apartment to my room. I grab my wallet, and phone, before going back to the front door. I slip my keys from the hook, and slide my hightops onto my feet.

Zayn's arm brushes mine as we walk to the car. I slide into the driver's side, with Zayn on the passenger's side. He settles easily into my car, smiling over at me.

"So you and Louis?" Zayn states, in a questioning tone.

"Me and Louis?" I scoff.

"You guys are, like, dating, yeah?"

I burst out laughing. "Uh, no, not in a million years. Just friends. That's as far as it will ever get."

"Oh, I see. I sort of feel like an idiot."

"You actually thought-?"

"Yeah, I'm dumb."

"Not dumb, considerate and thoughtful. I'm sure it's a mistake that other people have made, too."

When I get home, I set out the cheese pizza, that is devoured in a half hour. We all watch movies and drink sparkling white wine for a long while. I have to be responsible, and go to bed at 12. I do have work tomorrow.

"Goodnight boys," I call.

"See you at the party," Harry yells back.

"Assuming I'm going," I reply.

"You will, I know it," Louis exclaims.

I roll my eyes quickly. I take off my makeup, then just lie in my bed. Zayn Malik. Malik, Zayn. I can't get his name to run away from my fucked up brain. I can't get him to leave my thoughts. His giggle, his laugh, his smile, his fears, his voice, his stupid jokes, his arms, his skinny body, his eyes, his face, his tattoos, everything about him. He's stuck in my brain, like a piece of gum to the underside of a table. And I can't do anything about it. All I can do is hope that he wants to talk to me. I don't know how I'd react to him. I don't know anything, and that scares me a little. I don't even know why I just told him all of my fears like that. I can't fall in love again. I can't lose people again.

I can't be forgotten again.

. . . . .

so syd's got some deeeeep issues. dayyyyyuummm. and zayn's just being zayn ayyyy

hope ya liked it