Nobody Compares {A Zayn Malik Lucy Hale FF}

Chapter- 9

Chapter-9

Savannah’s POV

This is hard work.

As solo artists, we were doing absolutely wonderful. Performing the lifts and the duet part....it’s not coming together quite well

“And the crowds don’t remember my name...”

As the next lyric comes, Zayn drags me towards him; both of us sitting on the floor.

“When my hands don’t play the strings the same way...ooh-oh”  He runs his hands over my calf and motions as if he’s strumming a guitar

“I know you will still love me the same...”

There’s this part where we’re both lying on the floor, his feet above my head and he has to turn so that our heads come together.

And we’re doing that now

“1...2...3!” I counted and I saw his feet disappear from my vision, but his head banged with mine and I swear I saw stars

“Ow!!! Ow-ow-ow-ow OW!!!” I breathed out of my mouth like a goldfish, my eyes watering at the painful collision

I held my head in my arms and breathed slowly and I saw Zayn near me with a sad look in his eyes. He removed my gently patted the area where he hit me and muttered many sorries.

I hate my crop top! I muttered to myself "I'm so over thinking about this"

“Can we wrap it for now?” I asked him and he nodded.

I went back to the washroom to change and wash my face. I discarded off the leggings and wore my jeans from morning. I rested my shirt on my shoulder and neared the sinks to wash my face and neck.

And just to my lucky day, the shirt slipped from my shoulders and fell in the sink. The water from the tap soaking it completely

I.Am.Not.Wearing.This.Crop.Top.Home!

This is not happening!!! WHY!!

Okay, I’m over reacting, but I hate showing my midriff off!

I walked out of the washroom in that god awful crop top and to the car. I saw Zayn waiting at the parking lot, leaning on his car.

He opened the door for me and got in himself in the driver’s side and drove off.

“How does ice cream sound?” He asked, obviously trying to lighten me up.

I nodded and smiled.

He pulled over at the drive way of a small ice cream parlor named ‘Mama Joe’s’ and came to open the door for me. I was too quick for him and opened it myself.

There were a few tables scattered around with chairs surrounding it. A lady in her late fifties, maybe, stood at the counter.

Zayn placed his hand lightly at the small of my back and guided me to the counter to place our orders. He looked down at me and asked, “What would you like?”

“Pistachio” I said and Zayn turned to the counter to the lady with a smile

“One pistachio and a mint-chocolate, please” He said politely. She rang up the order and said, “That would be £19.99.”

I put my hands in my jeans pocket to pull out my purse, but Zayn already paid. I raised my eyebrows at him and he pulled his tongue cheekily.

We moved aside waiting for the order. Zayn got a phone from his mum, so he went a bit farther away from me to talk in privacy.