Man of my Dreams
  • Reads 3,150
  • Votes 46
  • Parts 21
  • Time 1h 23m
  • Reads 3,150
  • Votes 46
  • Parts 21
  • Time 1h 23m
Complete, First published Aug 30, 2012
I’m not really the type of girl to have dreams when I sleep. Or maybe I do, and I just end up forgetting them in the morning. But I can’t find any explanation on why these past few weeks, I am aware of all the happening in my dreams. It felt real, it looked real. I was talking to someone. A boy, to be exact. He is about my age, tall, athletic- looking, mesmerizing eyes and, shall I say, really really hot.the weird thing is, I only get these dreams at night. I know because I tried sleeping in the afternoon just to see if he is there, but all I got was a bad dream I’d rather not talk about because it humiliates me too much. It is hard not to fall for the guy. I mean, he is probably one of the hottest guys I’ve ever laid my eyes on. His brown eyes would make me want to melt when I look right through them and his voice was that of angels singing. He was actually quite funny and intelligent. As stupid as it might sound, I think I’m falling for the, literally, man of my dreams.




Oh, wait. Did I mention that this guy we’re talking about, this guy of my dreams, is Zayn Malik?
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DISCLAIMER: I wrote this when I was very young so read at your own risk • "I'll never understand why you want plastic girls that dont have anything to offer." I said not looking at him. "You really think I want them?" "What do you want then?" I looked up at him. He stepped closer to me and unfolded his arms. "I want you." • Models. Blonde white women. Skinny chicks. That's all you see the most beautiful men with. Beautiful, skinny, blonde models. Not thick curvy black women that could satisfy their every need. Not girls like me. That was until I got my new client.