Break Free [Dark Zayn Malik.]

DISCLAIMER: Any copyright of the story will be reported and taken down for my sake. Thank you, please enjoy!

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Zayn Malik, /the/ Zayn Malik, the man who had shamefully commit numerous murders and illegal crimes, the red-eyed, stubbly-faced, early-twenties man stood directly in front of me.
The man who had saved my life just a few hours ago, the man who I swore could've fucking hated my guts, hated every single part of me, but yet felt as if it were his job to protect me from the enemy. From the enemies.
At four o'clock in the morning, nothing but the smell of the smoke from the pack of Malboro in his pocket, radiating off of him, giving me a full smell of it, and he towered over me, as tall as I could possibly imagine. He tilted his head and creaked out a somewhat snap, "Lylah," and with that, I immediately cracked the door for him to come in, and as soon as he stepped foot inside of my household, his lips were infatuated with my own.