ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ | 𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔 |

Chapter 1 *revised

You see, we gotta find our place
And we'll go there now
We can't get no satisfaction alone...

- Zayn

ZAYN - POV.

Motherfucker!

I paced around the living room of my apartment, circling the couch where the girl from yesterday was sleeping. What the hell did I just get myself into? 

My plan was to come here after I retired from MI6 for vacation but ended up at a crime scene, where I took a random stranger into my living quarters. I have my flight back to New York later today and I still haven't packed. Blaming myself wasn't in the cards because there was no ambulance or anything to take the girl. 

I'm thinking that it was an assassination. Someone in that library was targeted. The knowing feeling crept onto me but I cut myself off before I went too deep. Stuff like that was now far behind me ever since I left the job and I'm not getting into any more of that bullshit.

The only reason I brought the girl in was because she didn't look okay and was already knocked out in my arms. There was no one around other than me to help her. But now she's sleeping like it's her house. 

I stopped and stepped closer to the girl. Who was she? Realization knocked into me. This was the first time I ever took anyone into my home without knowing who they were. Fuck!

Even though being a spy was already far away from me, I still have to live like one which really annoys me. Becoming a spy in the first place meant you're down to making enemies and those enemies will always exist to you even if you're retired. 

Sometimes I wonder if the word peacefully retired is actually relevant in the dangerous world of crimes. I didn't even sleep at all last night— not even a wink. I couldn't risk it, this girl could be a vixen sent to kill me in my sleep. But the chances of that were low since she was the one who got to sleep the whole night. 

My arms crossed against my chest as I watched the woman that was sleeping on my couch. She looks young but she was definitely older than twenty-one. There were dust stains on her cheeks and the blood dried her skin. I remembered the way she looked before, her skin the smooth shade of olive, and how her cheeks flushed pink when she saw me. 

I cleared my throat and looked away. She was beautiful. And I hate to say it because it's weird to feel like this. It's normal for a woman to be beautiful. 

She pulled my attention back towards her when she suddenly stirred. I moved closer, feeling the anticipation for her to wake. Please, I really need you to leave my house.