Breathe

842 28 10
                                    

Zayn: 20
Harry: 19

Just my imagination of what exactly happened that night in Miami.

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We walked into the hotel. We turned around so fans could take a photo of us. Probably nobody suspected it was just us two in a hotel, while everybody else left, and I liked the idea of them not knowing anything so bad.

We walked into the lift, and as soon as we did, he grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me in for a kiss. Ugh, I wanted to kiss him so badly, the whole fucking day. When he walked into the room with those high heels on and that sexy dress.

Fuck! He looked so hot, damn. When I pulled him in... and how he poked my chest with his finger while saying "you've got a dirty mouth" and how we danced together, int front of the fucking camera!

We could finally do it in front of everyone, without them actually realizing we wanted to be so close to each other. Everyone will think we did it just because they told us to, not because we wanted to.

He pulled away as soon as the doors opened. We stepped out, watching if there are fans somewhere in the hallway, but luckily, it was empty.

So we walked towards my room and as soon as we entered, he pushed me against the door as I closed them with my back. He gripped my hair with his fingers, pressing his body against mine.

But we then pulled away to get some air. We smiled and he pecked my lips one more time. I grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the bed. We sat down and he moved closer to me, placing his hand on my leg.

I turned on the tv as he kept moving his hand slowly around my leg.

"Yay! Pretty Woman!" I smiled.

He rolled his eyes, laughing.

"You seriously wanna watch that now?"

"Duh." I turned my gaze back at the screen.

"Want some beer?" he asked, standing up.

"Yeah, sure." I nodded, not taking my eyes off the screen.

He walked into the kitchen so I decided to put on something else. I know he would rather watch something else, so it's better like this. He walked back, carrying two bottles of beer in his hands, then smiled as he sat back down.

"Football?"

I nodded, smiling as he pecked my lips. He gave me the bottle as he opened his bottle, but I couldn't really open my bottle.

"Fuck. I can't open this... damn bottle..." I sighed, throwing my head back.

"You're not that strong now, aren't you?" he smirked, trying to take the bottle away from me, but I pulled it back.

"What?" I raised my eyebrows "What made you think I'm not strong?"

"Well, you obviously can't open the bottle." he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer.

"Well, I actually can open it." I went back to open it, but still couldn't.

"Okay, I can't." I sighed.

"Ohh, I know." he smiled, nodding.

"But I am fucking strong!"

"Nope." he shook his head, giving me the bottle back.

"I AM!" I put the bottle down at the nightstand, turning back to look at him.

"No way. Never." he laughed.

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