Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

23

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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I'm not here

This isn't happening

I'm not here

I'm not here

Radiohead -  How to Disappear Completely

I woke to the sound of him dropping things. Each thud was muted by the lush carpeting, so it was more the repetition that penetrated the cover of my dreams, as opposed to a startling or disturbing sound. Sitting up at the head of the bed, I found him stood in nothing but his briefs in the center of the hotel room, aggressively juggling an armful of oranges like his life depended on in. Apparently he'd snagged them from the fruit bowl in the sitting area as I hadn't touched them since I arrived. Every now and then there was a sharp intake of breath that let me know he had almost lost one.

The room was cold. Expanding. Filled with shivering light as the sun rose behind the neighboring buildings. I eyed his growing frustration and the jiggle of his ass as he worked, and right away decided there was no finer vision to awaken to. Such lunacy. Yet his mindless theatrics were far better than all the wealth and luxury in the world. Better than being surrounded by a harem of all the baddest birds I could ever dream up, even if their single-minded aspiration was to pleasure me day and night and wait on me hand and foot. Still, if this was all the rest of my days had in store, stolen moments in borrowed rooms with no company other than this magnificently perplexing creature, I was game.

One of the oranges hit the floor and I laughed. "Gettin' rusty, huh? Haven't been practicin'? Spendin' too much time with, Matt, yeah?"

"Shuddup..." he dropped another, lunging to try to catch it, but failing. "You're distracting me!"

"Well, broh, maybe youh just suck—" he launched one at my head, but I ducked and it smacked against the headboard. We cracked up at how hard it had landed before he forfeited the task at hand.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

"Yeah, alright. Surrre youh didn't." Now he approached, wiggling his hips and holding two oranges up to his chest like boobs.

"Uh...I think youh may need about two more of those...."

"Arghhh! Don't make fun of them!" he played offended and tried to cover all four nipples, before climbing into bed to kneel in front of me. Almost immediately he pulled the sheets off my shriveling morning wood, so I adjusted myself through the briefs.

"What's up, babe? It's a bit early for all this, innit?"

"It's almost seven. I got woken up." He rubbed his eye like a weary kitten. "They called to say the interviews for today were rescheduled. You have a missed call, too, from Paul, but you basically sleep through anything. Even an atomic bomb—"

"We don't joke about atomic bombs in Japan. It's like the one place youh don't."

"Sorry..." he looked genuinely remorseful.

"Forreal though? Rescheduled? That's pretty sick actually. M'exhausted!"

"Yeah, same," he uttered, voice gruff with morning cobwebs. His hair was a mess too, all deflated and falling over his forehead without product. Now he absently pulled the covers away completely. "Your legs are so freaking hairy I could braid it!" I twisted away when he attempted to do so. "Remember when I shaved my name into it?" he snickered uncontrollably. "Mate, that was lit!"