When Worlds Combine - A WWC Sequel

17; Plaid shirts, The Spice Girls, and Koala biscuits

Violet

 

"Zayn, are you ready?" I walk into Zayn's dorm Saturday morning, holding my overnight bag in my hands. I dump the bag down on Zayn's empty bed and look around the room, which is also empty. "Zayn?"

"In here!" I hear him call from the bathroom.

"Are you ready?" I repeat, stepping forward to peer around the corner and look through the gap in the door. I see a small glimpse of him wearing nothing but a towel, standing facing the mirror. The towel is hung low, falling quickly. I blush a little and advert my eyes.

"Yeah, almost. Hold up."

I sit down on his bed and wait for him. Suddenly the dorm room door opens and Neil saunters in.

"Hey, Violet. Zayn in?" He walks over and dumps his things down on his own bed.

"He's in the bathroom," I say.

"Sup," Zayn greets as he exits the bathroom. He's wearing jeans now, ditching the towel, but has yet to put on a shirt. He uses the towel in his hand to ruffle his hair, and I stifle a laugh at his messed up, boyish hairstyle.

"You guys have plans for today?" Neil asks, opening up his laptop.

Zayn walks over to his wardrobe. "Heading to Manchester for the night."

"Zayn, do you even have a bag packed?" I look around the room, searching for a bag.

"Nope."

"Niall is picking us up in twenty minutes," I state. "Like, picking us up ready to go. You know what Niall's like."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But he also knows what I'm like." He rifles through the hangers and pulls out two shirts. "Which shirt?"

I eye them both. One is a red plaid button up shirt with long sleeves and the other is a plain black t-shirt. I take in his black ripped jeans and both the shirts. "Wear both," I say.

He looks at me like I've just suggested a human sacrifice. "Both?"

"Yes," I say. "Both."

"Like, how?" He looks so confused it's adorable.

I stand to my feet. "Zayn Malik, do you know anything about fashion?"

He just snorts. "Says you, Princess."

I ignore him, taking the black shirt off the hanger. I instruct him to hold up his arms and slowly pull the shirt over his chest. Then, I grab the button up and pull his arms through one at a time, straightening it up at the front and leaving all buttons undone. I admire the look and revel in how hot he looks.