Zayn’s got cravings, and he’s called you for help ;)
“You – you… want me to w-whot?” Zayn stammered nervously, his jaw unhinged.
I cleared my throat authoritatively and crossed my arms. “You heard me. Take your shirt off and jump on the bed.” Hearing those words come out of my mouth was so surreal that it almost sounded as if it was someone else saying them. But I knew what I needed to do, and I had to seem confident or this could all fall apart.
He shifted his weight nervously and scanned his bedroom, as if looking for an escape. Too bad for him his room was literally like an organized prison cell, white walls, no windows, everything neatly in its place. Zayn was already a bit of a neat freak, but his OCD got ten times worse when he doesn’t get his cigarette.
“This…ahh…this isn’t why I called you,” Zayn said softly as he stared bashfully at the ground.
I rolled my eyes at him. “I know exactly why you called me, and I’m here to help. So either you take off your shirt on your own or I rip them off from you. Your call.”
He stared at me for a moment, as if trying to read my intentions, and if I had been any weaker woman I would’ve turned away from his piercing hazel eyes. You wouldn’t understand the intensity of his eyes unless you’ve seen them for yourself, but the depths that he could reach with his look could expose the soul of any woman…or man. Not this time though. I had a mission, and I needed to see it through, so I kept his gaze as firmly as I could.
Finally, with a resigned sigh, he tugged on his shirt. My heart suddenly pounded on my chest and a fierce heat spread through my entire body as his exposed navel came to view. I couldn’t believe this was really happening.
Half an hour ago…
“Thanks for coming,” Zayn said quickly, avoiding my gaze as he let me in to his room. He paced around, as if looking for something to clean or pick up from the floor, but his room was spotless; everything was in place. “I would’ve called Liam, but I…I didn’t want to bother-
I raised my hand to silence him and shook my head. “Zayn, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
A heavy silence fell on us as we stood awkwardly apart, him with his eyes fixated on the floor and his hands tucked in his jeans pockets, and me staring at him intently with my arms wrapped around myself. I knew when he called me that it was going to be bad, but I’ve never seen him like this before. He looked ghostly pale, like he hasn’t seen the sun in days, bags were deep under his eyes and his facial hair had grown quite a bit, his hands were littered with black ink marks and his hair was up in a messy quiff. He looked exhausted. It made sense though, the longest he’s ever gone without a cigarette before was 2 days, and by the end of it he was practically shaking with cravings. This time he’s lasted 3 weeks, which, to someone who smokes 20 cigarettes a day, would feel like 3 long agonizing years.
“So, how are you?” I said meekly, trying to break the silence that fell on us.
He sighed and sat down on his bed, his eyes still fixated on the spot on the floor in front of me. “I guess I’m okay…I mean,” he hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s really hard.”
I could see his hands trembling and my heart broke silently. Zayn was such a strong, youthful lad, full of spirit, weirdness and sometimes moodiness. To see him this…vulnerable was heart breaking. I knew why he called me and not the boys. He didn’t want them to see him like this.
I took a step forward towards him and he closed his eyes. “Zayn…” I whispered softly. I crouched down and knelt in front of him, taking his large, quivering hands in mine and resting them on his knees. “It’s okay Zayn, I’m here.”
He pulled his hands away from mine and looked to his side. I could read a thousand emotions crossing through his handsome face and it took all of my strength not to break down and cry for him, I could feel the pain seeping from his body, the embarrassment, the anger he had for himself. His eyes were the most expressive things in this world, and when Zayn was vulnerable, you could read him like a well written novel.
“I just,” he began to say softly, before burying his face in his hands. “I just needed someone.”
I chewed my lip nervously. “That bad huh?”
He simply nodded in response.
I was at a total loss. I wanted to help him so bad, to get him through his withdrawals, but I had no idea what to do. He needed some sort of distraction, something to occupy his time and to get his mind out of this darkness.
“You were doing so well, I thought the cravings were going down. What triggered it this time?” I looked to my side and saw his laptop open. His eyes followed my gaze and he immediately jumped to his feet, unfortunately for him I got to his laptop first. I pushed him aside and scanned the article he was reading, and the thousands of comments written below. The title of the article was ‘Zayn Malik failed at his new year’s resolution. Fans disappointed.’
I shut the laptop and turned to him, ready to tell him off but he beat me to it. He rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. “I know I know, I’m not supposed to be reading these. It just happened…I wasn’t looking for it.”
“Those fans have no idea what you’re going through, ignore them. A lot of them still love you and support you and just want you to keep trying.”
“Yeah I know.”
“Quit dwelling on what people say Zayn, you can’t get everyone to like you!”
“Yeah I know!” He snapped back, his eyebrows furrowed angrily. Something deep in me stirred with excitement as he glared at me, the veins on his neck prominent. He stared at me for a bit and must’ve realized from my expression that I was taken a back. He forced himself to relax a bit. “I get it, okay.” He plopped down on his bed again, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips. He was trying so hard to keep himself from breaking down.
I watched him again, silently, before making a decision in my head. I promised him I’d try and help him when he needed it…at any cost. There was only one distraction strong enough that I could think of that might work. Although, things might get awkward. Oh boy…here goes.
I clapped my hands together and got his attention. “Right…so take your shirt off and jump on the bed.”
He stared at me blankly, as if he hadn’t heard me.
I bit my lip awkwardly and fiddled with my hands. “Err, yeah, take your shirt off Zayn.”
It took a moment, but his eyes widened when my words finally sunk it. He stared at me like I grew two heads. “W-what?”
“You scared, Bradford bad boi?”
He laughed nervously, “I don’t even say that anymore.”
“Well I don’t have all day. You wanted my help, here it is.” I pulled him to his feet. “take your shirt off.”
“You – you… want me to w-whot?” Zayn stammered nervously, his jaw unhinged.
He tugged his shirt off slowly, hesitantly…seductively…pulling it above his head in a way that fried my mind full of dirty sexual thoughts. Calm down, girl. Calm down. I bit my lip hard trying to contain myself from fainting as his very naked tummy, then chest, shoulders, and arms were exposed in all its gloriousness. My cheeks burned red with a blush I couldn’t control. How he could take his shirt off so sensually and turn me on so fast, I had no idea…
He dropped his shirt to the floor and I swear he gave me the sexiest discreet smirk right then. “Now what?” he asked innocently. I swear to God the boy was enjoying this. He could be such a tease when he wanted to be. But I was the one in control today, not him.
“Get on the bed and close your eyes. You’re in for a treat Zayn Malik.”
He cocked his head to the side, as if to challenge me, his right eyebrow raised.
My ovaries exploded.
#zayn malik #one direction #1d #smoking