safety// z.malik

xliv. show

It's been a month since I bought my dress, and we haven't started anything else. We should be finding venues and caterers and a baker and decorators and disk jockeys but we haven't had any motivation.

"Babe," Zayn mumbles, wrapping his arms around me as we snuggle in bed.

I peel one eye open, looking at my fiancé beside me. "Yeah?"

"Wedding show today," he breathes. "Figured we could get some more planning done because we haven't done any."

"Good idea," I nod, kissing his forehead. "What time is it at?"

"It's twelve to four, but we can go at the beginning."

"It's eleven now, so I'm going to get ready," I sigh.

I slip out of Zayn's arms, only to go to the dresser and rummage through my drawers of clothing. I pull out a stretchy, tie-dyed maxi skirt, and a black v-neck to go over it. I get dressed, before throwing my hair into a topknot bun, and putting some mascara on. I brush my teeth and do all my business in the bathroom, then go out to find a fully dressed Zayn waiting patiently at the door for me.

"You got ready fast," I comment, slipping on my gladiator sandals and grabbing Zayn's denim jacket to bring with me.

"While you took half an hour picking out your outfit, I was able to get fully ready. You just take a long time."

"It's not my fault. It's a girl thing!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, angel."

I roll my eyes, slipping the keys out of his hand and making my way into the warm fall air. I get into the driver's seat, with Zayn beside me. "Where is it?"

"The City Hall," Zayn answers, his eyes flickering down to where he has the information on his phone.

I shift the car into the right gear, before pulling out of the parking lot. The fifteen minute drive to the town hall is filled with singing along to music on the radio, which is more fun than it should be.

At the city hall, we both head inside, getting in line behind the many, many brides and grooms waiting for their turn to start the journey to their wedding day. Slowly but surely, we climb up the line, until we are standing in front of the regiistration table.

"Names?" the lady, Nancy is what's on her nametag, questions, her pen lingering over the open slot.

"Sydney and Zayn Malik," Zayn answers, sending the red haired lady a charming smile.

"Take a bag," she offers, handing a bright pink bag to me. "And sir, you can take the passport. Get every vendor to sign it, then hand it back in to win the door prize."

"Thank you," I beam, taking Zayn's free hand and leading him through the doors.

With excitement pulsing through my veins, I rush in. Zayn tugs on my hand, stopping me before I get too ahead of myself. He presses his lips to mine softly, earning the awe of someone around us.

"Babe, take your time, okay?" Zayn breathes. "We have all the time in the world."

I nod, my cheeks becoming furiously red. He starts to lead me through the rows of vendors, stopping at the booth with invitations. Carlee's Creations.

"Hello," the brunette behind the table exclaims, reaching out to shake both of our hands. "I'm Carlee, and you are?"

"Sydney," I answer, resting my head on Zayn's arm.

"Zayn," my fiancé answers.

"Well, Zayn and Sydney, when's your wedding?"

"We actually don't know yet," I sigh. "Only thing we've got is the dress."