Complementary

thirty five

simple as this - jake bugg

zayn

After finding gifts for all three of my sisters and my mother, I call Carlie and she ends up telling me to meet her in Saint Laurent.

I enter the pristine store and immediately feel very out of my element. I mean, the floors appear to be marble or granite or something of that sort, and I am stepping all over them in a dirty, old pair of Nike's.

When I find her, she is stood in front of a glass rack of black dresses. Typical.

"Of course you manage to find the most expensive store here." I say once I approach her.

She turns to smirk at me, quickly pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Help me out here, babe. I need an outfit for New Year's Eve."

"So you come to Yves Saint Laurent? Most girls your age are looking for their clothes in like, Forever 21." I scoff.

"Tacky," Carlie mumbles. "We've already established the fact that I am not like most girls."

"Very true," I say. "Where do you get your money from anyway?"

Carlie looks at me as if I am stupid. "My father, obviously. Like I said before, he only knows how to show affection through his money. He lets me shop wherever I'd like, which is why I have recently come to the conclusion that this proves he feels the slightest bit guilty for his past actions. If he didn't feel bad for what he did all those years ago, do you really think he'd let his spiteful daughter shop here, Zayn?"

"No, I don't think he would if he didn't care." I say.

"Oh, this is very different from caring." She catches on to my statement.

I roll my eyes, deciding I do not want to get into this now. I change the subject and say, "So, you're shopping for New Year's. What are your plans, exactly?"

I watch as she pulls a dress off the rack and examines it, feeling the material between her fingers. "Well, we arrive home the 27th. I'm just assuming there will be a party or something, and if we have nothing to do, I will get us in to one of the clubs downtown. You can bring Niall and Henry."

"Harry," I correct her, laughing. "And what club? You're 19, babe."

"One of my father's clubs. God, I sound so pretentious right now."

I blink. "Your father owns a club?"

Carlie shoves the dress into my arms and nods. "He owns many, Zayn. His company buys out run down clubs and entertainment centers and builds them back up."

"Oh. I never knew that."

Carlie does not reply. She simply plucks a few more dresses from the rack and leads me to a very extravagant dressing room. The walls are lined with mirrors everywhere and the lights are nearly blinding.

The sales associate eyes me as I wait for Carlie to try on her dresses. I assume I look just as out of place as I feel right now.

A moment passes and she steps out of the room closest to me, adorned in a black dress with a very deep neckline - too deep to even be considered a neckline. It shows off her small chest and is not too tight fitting. She looks beautiful.

"What do you think?" She asks, doing a small twirl for full affect.

"I love it," I say honestly. "You look very pretty."

She rolls her eyes at me, pushing her hair out of her face. "You always say I'm pretty, Zayn. Tell me I'm hot every once in a while."

I laugh at her statement, knowing full well she is joking. I call her hot constantly, whether it be in my head or to her face. It's just - when she is dressed like this, she really does look beautiful. She looks hot as well, but I feel as if those are two very different words, meant to be used in different contexts.

Carlie finishes up in the dressing room and leads me to the register where she buys the dress. It is an unbelievably high price; one I cannot even dare to think of saying. It amazes me how she is able to throw her money around like this when I even struggle with coughing up enough money to pay the rent. I try not to let that bother me.

I force my girlfriend out of the mall before she drags me to another store. Maybe that is the reason, or seeing her in that dress made me want to get her alone.

-

We are tangled between the bedsheets, the low hum of the television the only sound in the room. I presume Carlie is very tired by the current sight of her heavy blinks, eyelids drooping slightly.

She is naked, and I cannot stop looking at her body. Not in a lustful way, but in the way where I simply cannot fathom how beautiful she is. Her skin is smooth and her legs seem to go on for days despite her short height. I let my fingertips trace down her stomach, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps there. Her breathing shallows and I feel her eyes on me.

"Stop that," she whispers, chuckling softly. "I'm tired and you're making me hot and bothered all over again. I don't believe I have it in me for round two."

I simply smile in response, letting my eyes flicker up to meet hers. Her pupils are still blown and there is a flush lingering on her cheeks from our previous actions. It is nice being so wrapped up in each other like this.

I let my gaze wander back to her body and my fingers wrap around her wrist. I turn it over, admiring the new tattoo there. It has healed nicely, matching mine exactly.

"I'm happy I came here with you, Zayn." Carlie tells me suddenly.

I look back up at her. "So am I. You'll get to taste my mother's wonderful cooking on Christmas Day. She goes all out."

Carlie reaches out and runs her fingers through my hair, playing with it a bit. It feels very nice. "I haven't had a home cooked meal in quite a while."

"Home cooked dinners are great, but even my mom's cooking probably won't be nearly as good as your chef's."

"Oh, please," Carlie rolls her eyes. "I'd take that over the bullshit candlelit dinners I am forced to have with Johannah and my father."

I frown slightly. "Johannah would much rather cook, I'm sure."

"She does sometimes. She is usually at the hospital anyway, so she barely has time as it is."

"Have you seen much of Louis lately?" I decide to ask curiously.

She shakes her head. "He's been with Eleanor a lot more. They are pretty serious about each other. I can picture them getting married, I think."

I nearly laugh. "Louis would be an awful husband. He leaves his shit everywhere; he's worse than me. It would drive Eleanor crazy."

Carlie chuckles. "Well, there is someone for everybody, I presume."

"You really think that?" I question.

"Yes. I think there's someone for everybody, though it may not always be the person you spend your life with. That is what's sad about it."

I consider her statement. I think she is partially correct, and it really makes me wish that I would get to spend my life with her. I know we are young and I have only known her for a few months, but her words give me hope and an odd sense of determination. I do not ever want to make the mistake of letting her go. She means too much for me to let that happen.