Liquor Lips | z.m (on going)

••• Zayn takes the glass of wine from my hand, ditching it on the table, then pulls me closer to him, his hot mint breath fanning on my face.

"I'm jealous of the cherries that have just been in your mouth," Zayn gets closer to me, our faces only few inches away from each other, "that they get to make your lips so red," he pulls at my bottom lip with his teeth, teasing me, which made my breathing hitch and I feel a rush of lustful wetness going down to my core. "They're everything I crave these days."

He murmurs against my lips. His hands slide over the wide , smooth curve of my hips. He lets our lips collide for less than a minute, then pulls away. "This must be what addict feels like...wanting to stop, but not being able to..."

And he kisses me again, I press my lips harder against his, as a shiver of delight snakes through me when I feel him press back harder. Daring myself, I open my mouth. So does he, and the kiss deepens. •••

She was darkness and he was darkness.

He has learnt to run from what he feels, and that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control.

Control. Control his desires that ruined him once.

Control himself when it comes to liquor.

Control himself when it comes to her.

But he failed.

She surrendered herself to him, to arms that were too strong, lips too bruising, fate that moved too fast.

She has never been through emotions such as joy, fear, madness, excitement, but with him, she knew that she'll feel them all.

But she didn't know that she'll also feel love.

She loved him.

She loved his eyes, loved the glittery brown that God has sprinkled gold dust in them. they had secrets. She wanted them.

She wanted him.

He was only hooked up on the taste of liquor on her mouth, not her, once he realizes that he's going back to an addiction and creating a new one, he does what he does best, he goes away.