Addicted z.m

Chapter 30

Updating for Halloween (Day after Halloween now)! Hope you're having a hype time!

I took a deep breath, sighing with pleasure at the memories of the night before. I was floating on air, I don't think I have felt this happy ever in my life. It was a strange yet pleasing feeling, like last night sealed the deal; like it made it official that he was mine and I was his and we had created some kind of invisible bond that not even the hottest of super-models or strongest of men could break.

After my brief trip down memory lane of the night before, I let the bright light from the sun outside flutter my eyes open. Right in front of me was a mass of bed-hair squatted down next to the bed. He had his journal in one hand and a fast-traveling pencil in the other, repeating some of the same patterns at different angles.

I could just barely see his face, the creases between his eyebrows, his tongue peeking out between pursed lips. I, without really thinking at all, reached out my hand and let the tips of my fingers just barely brush the skin just in front of his ear.

He didn't flich or jump like I had expected him to. His head shot up, though, his eyes still holding the intensity he put into his work, the creases from pure concentration still etched on his face. I ran my fingers down from where they had landed along his jaw slowly. I rubbed his cheek gently and his eyes softened just slightly. I traced the outline of his lips and all the determination his eyes held vanished. He stuck his lips out slightly to kiss my fingers.

"Good morning," I smiled a sleepy smile.

He returned the smile. "Good morning," he croaked through his morning voice.

"What are you working on over there?" I asked.

He looked back down at his art work. "Just sketching," he shrugged before shutting the journal.

"No, don't stop on account of me," I pleaded.

His eyes were warm as he hesitantly reopened his journal and prepared to continue. I smiled, waiting for his pencil to touch the paper but he paused then looked back up at me. He squinted his eyes just slightly. "Put your hand back where it was...by your cheek," he directed with his pencil. I obliged and shifted every other millimetre before he gave me a nod of approval. "And close your eyes."

I shut my eyes and after only ten seconds I grew restless.

"Relax, love," I heard him speak. "Just...try to fall back asleep, that'll make this easier for both of us."

I nodded and did as he said but I couldn't fall back asleep. The memories of Zayn's hands rubbing every inch of my body with the sweetest and most tender touch distracted me. I craved the feeling of the pads of his tumbs rubbing circles on my waist; his fingers threaded through my hair; his voice whispering how much he loves me repeatedly.

My thoughts were ceased when the sound of his journal snapping shut caused my eyes to fly open. "You're done already?" I asked.

He shook his head, placing the journal on the nightstand next to me. "You're too awake for me to finish," he explained.

"Can I see it?" I reached for the small book but he lightly smacked my hand playfully.

"I want you to see it when it's completed. I don't want the ending result to be expected." He ran a hand through his hair before rising from where he was perched. He kept his body close to mine as he climbed over me to get to his side of the bed.

I took notice to the fact that he was in a pair of sweatpants and I was in his dress shirt from dinner last night. I didn't remember putting on a shirt or my underwear. I just fell asleep after staring at Zayn for a long silent moment.