"Zayn," he spoke, smoke leaving his lips once again as he dropped the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with his dark boots. His hand darted in between us as he awaited a response. "January," I said faintly, grabbing his hand. "Nice," he chuckled, making the first move to release my cold fingers. His hands held a nice warmness to them. "Like the month," he nodded. "I like it." *** » read the sequel here http://my.w.tt/UiNb/y9izHftVhv