You’re lying in the grass, shivering slightly, when a cold breeze runs over the bare skin of your shoulders. You’ve been in the park for hours, trying to come up with something to write for your poetry class the next morning. But nothing would come to you. The words that usually float around your head, just waiting to be brought to paper are so messed up.
“Hey!” A male voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look up to see a pair of dark eyes.
“Getting anywhere?” He asks, unasked taking a seat next to you.
“I’m Zayn” He holds his hand out for you to shake.”
“Hi, I’m Chantelle.” He stays and you talk for a while. And while time goes by, a poem begins to form in your head.
I looked at him and
imagined what could be
if only i knew him.
and the man he could
be. with a woman like
me by his side.
if I could feel the
touch of his hands
on my skin, the
taste of his lips
on my lips
and his heart would
His phone rings and whispering an excuse to you, he picks up and walks a few meters away from you. You take the moments you’re alone to write down the words you wouldn’t bare to put on paper while he was looking.
“Did I give you an Idea?” You didn’t even notice him sneaking up on you. Not until you feel his breath against you neck as he’s watching over your shoulder. Hastily you try to hide your notebook from him.
“Maybe.” You’re blushing.
“I’m really sorry, but that was work. I’m afraid I’ll have to go.”
“Oh, okay.” Though you don’t want to, you can’t help but be a little sad that your time together is already over.
“Can I… Uhm… Can I see you again?” You can tell he’s nervous from the way he grabs the back of his neck and steps from one foot to the other.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” You smile at him.
“Tomorrow then? We can have lunch together, where should I pick you up?” He smiles back at you.
“Do you know King’s College? I have class until eleven but I’m free after that.”
“Eleven then.” He takes your hand and lifts it to his lips, leaving only the slightest memory of a kiss on your skin, before he turns around and walks away.
You read your poem in class, earning more than a few jealous looks over the praise jour professor has for you today.
“Who is he?” Your best friend Amy asks as you leave the auditorium and walk to your next class.
“Just some guy I met at the park yesterday.”
“No. No, no. no Chantelle. The way you wrote about him, he’s not just ‘some guy’. Now, I want all the details.”
“There’s really not much to tell. We’re having lunch today.” You say, already feeling the heed rushing to your cheeks again.
“Call me!” Amy calls after you, as you rush out of the room, the moment the bell rings for the end of class. Zayn’s already waiting for you. Only not as you imagined it, in a car but leaning against a black motorcycle.
“Hey.” He throws a helmet to you and you catch it. Loosening your hair from the messy but it’s been tied up to all morning you let it fall over your shoulders before you put the helmet on.
“How do I…?”
“Just wrap your arms around my waist. Like this.” He takes your hands and shows you how to hold on to him, before he starts the engine.
You can feel the wind pulling at your hair, while Zayn drives through the city and eventually stops in front of a little restaurant with a whine garden.
“Aah Mr Malik, your usual table? Are your friends coming too?” A waiter at the entry greets Zayn.
“No, not this time Sean. Only us two.” The waiter smiles back. Obviously Zayn has been here before.
“How about the table over there?” Sean points at a table standing in the shadow under a mighty tree.
“So… What do you recommend?” You ask Zayn once you’re seated.
“Hmm… You’re vegetarian, you said, right?”
“Yeah.” You smile at the fact that he remembered.
“You can always have your pizza without meet. Or they have great salads.” You end up ordering a big mixed salad with figs, apples and parmesan cheese, while Zayn orders pizza.
He asks you about school and you tell him about the praise you got for your poem and the questions your friend asked. But when he asks you to read it to him, you blush, putting it off for later.
“Well, can I hear anything else then?” Thank good Sean comes with your lunch, saving you from making up an excuse not to show him what you’ve written. The whole evening after he left yesterday, you spent writing. About his hands and how they played with a flower he’d picked up from the ground, while he told a complete stranger about how he used to make crowns of them for his sisters. About his eyes, so dark and mysterious that you could get lost in them for eternities. And about the curve of his lips, that seemed so soft, that all you could think about when you looked at them was, how it might feel to kiss them.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try some?” Zayn asks, picking up another piece of pizza from his plate and holding it in your direction.
“No thanks, I’m good.” You say, holding up a piece of fig, impaled on your fork.
“Oh common, try some?” He holds the pizza closer to your mouth and you take a bite.
“Wait.” He laughs a little. “You’ve got something there.” His thumb rubs over the corner of your mouth. He’s softly pulled your head closer, leaning in as well and you feel him kissing you, closing your eyes to fully enjoy the moment.
“Wow that was…” You breathe, when your lips part. ”Wow.”
“I like you Chantelle. And I’d like to spend more time with you.” Zayn says, his voice smoky and his eyes not leaving yours for even a second.
he drives to school every morning
while i roll up in my ferrari
audi r8 coupe
and vintage jaguar
remember when one direction members actually did twitcams hahahah reblog if you’re a true prehistoric kid
From: Jamie Stinson [firstname.lastname@example.org]
Sent: Saturday, 13. April 2013 12:55
To: Niall Horan [email@example.com]
Dear Mr Horan,
Please don’t instantly delete this e-mail. That’d be quite rash, don’t you think?
I honestly want to apologize to you. I’m so sorry for things to happen like that. The kiss was an accident, and of course it was never in my intention to kill you! I mean, if I knew who you were…
Imagine and preference requests are open!