Perfect | Harry Styles

Chapter Thirteen

The sun was starting to peek over the horizon and I was awake earlier than I wanted to be. Being held tight in Zayn's arms all night helped me rest a bit, but a part of me still felt slightly inconsolable. Harry's words replayed in my head over and over again like a soundtrack to my restless night.

This can never happen again. This can never happen again. This can never happen again.

I glanced down at Zayn's tattooed hand hovering just above my hip and snuggled into him more, playing my best role as little spoon. His breath tickled the back of my neck as he stirred awake.

"You up already?" he cleared his voice to get rid of the early morning rasp.

I nodded my head and he pulled me closer into him, effectively pressing my backside against his manhood. A sharp breath escaped my mouth. Suddenly I remembered all of unfulfilled primal desires. 

"Did you sleep alright?" I asked, trying to not focus on the thumping between my thighs that was back with a vengeance.

"I think I should be the one asking you that question," Zayn retorted while twirling a strand of my curls between his fingers. "How do you feel?"

"Numb," I blurted out before realizing he probably didn't know why I broke down last night in the first place. "I'm okay."

"Well, do you know what we do in Bradford when we have shit days?"

"Have a spot of tea and crumpets?" I rolled over to face him.

His eyes pierced right through me, just like last night, and they knocked the wind out of my chest. My heart fluttered and ached all at once.

"First off," he furrowed his brow playfully, making his gaze that much deeper. "That was like a horrible British accent. Secondly, we make pancake breakfasts."

"Do you really?"

"Not the lot of us, but my mum does," he admitted.

"That's good enough for me."

Zayn told me to get dressed and meet him in the kitchen in an hour. I shuffled off to the bathroom and powered my phone on. I was dreading reading anything Harry may have said to me. I was also dreading not having any messages in my inbox at all.

Inbox: 0 unread messages

What a fucking coward. I was all cried out from last night and couldn't muster any more tears today. It was a fresh start and I was going to make the best of my day with my new friend. We only met last night, but the way I feel comfortable around him already makes it easier to push Harry to the back of my mind.

I showered and changed into some fresh clothes. There wasn't much in this duffel that covered enough skin, except for a light blue short-sleeved maxi dress. I slipped it over my head and shimmied it down my body. It technically did cover everything, but the way the fabric also clung to every curve left little to the imagination. This dress wasn't made for panties. Or a bra. As much as I wanted to hate Natalia for not packing sensible clothes, I felt sexy. I shook my hair out of it's bun and it haloed into a raven mass of curls stopping just past my shoulders.

The smell of bacon filled the air and I followed the trail right to the kitchen. Zayn stood at the stove intently tending to the food before turning on his heel to face me. I wanted to trace the swirls of ink etched onto his skin with my hands. Maybe my tongue too. He gave me the one over before smirking to himself and turning his attention back to the stove.

"Where's Niall?" I continued toward Zayn and peered over his shoulder. His attention was divided between three cast iron skillets. One had pancakes bubbling at the edge ready to be flipped at any minute. The other was lined with perfectly crisp bacon and the third was filled to the brim with hash potatoes and specks of red and green peppers.

"He wasn't in his room this morning. I think he tiptoed out early to meet that girl he was all over last night."

"You know I haven't known him for a full 24 hours, but I feel like that sounds about right."

"It definitely is right."

"Here," he tugged at my waist. "Come taste this."

"Taste what?"

"Just open your mouth, love," he cupped his hand beneath my chin to make sure nothing spilled as he fed me a spoonful of potatoes.

"Oh that's good," I finished chewing. "Really good."

"Then you'll love the rest of what I have for you too."

"Do you need any help with anything?"

"Nope," Zayn flipped a pancake before turning to me. "You're my guest. All I need you to do is have a seat and be pretty."

Zayn touched the small of my back as he escorted me over to the table. I couldn't tell if my skin was flushing at his words or his touch. Tiny tingles ran down my spine as I sat down. I firmly crossed my legs, and clenched my knees together.

"Fine."