Zaddy's Baby Girl (BWWM) (Interracial)

2: Kings (1)

'Are there some aces up your sleeve?
Have you no idea that you're in deep?
I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep?'
-Arctic Monkeys (Do I Wanna Know?)
_____________

Zayn

Is it bad that I want this girl with every fiber of my being when I haven't even had a conversation with her yet? Is it bad that I see her face in the smoke as it whirls into the air when I am smoking? I have a bitch for everyday of the week and yet, it's not enough for me anymore. I want her. I want to have her under me panting like a bitch in heat. I want her to need me like the world needs Jesus.

So here I am. I'm watching her from across the room. She is in her own little bubble full of sunshine 'n' shit writing in the journal I have notice she carries almost everywhere she goes. I wonder what she writes about. Does she ever think about me just as much as I do her? Or am I even on her mind at all?

I still remember the day she had walking on our hoe of a teacher blowing me. I knew she was there. I always know when she is present and the little gasp that fell from her luscious lips that she thought noone heard had my mind kicking into overdrive with all of things I could do to her that would make her gasp. When my baby girl hauled ass I had made up an excuse to leave and follow after her. Almost as soon as I stepped out of the classroom I stepped on something, that some being her journal. I must admit I was tempted to open it and finally find out what she was writing about all of the time, but I did not cross that line.

So I had just picked it up and on my way to find her I ran into my cousin. I had asked him if had seen the chocolate beauty and he had led me to where he had seen her running towards a moment before we had ran into one another. We had found her leaned against the wall panting but I had pulled my cousin back out of sight before giving him a quick rundown about what happened. He was looking like the smug fuck that he is and went along with the bullshit lie I had made up for him to give her back her journal. I knew that Aaliyah would not take back her journal from me without most likely cursing me out so I sent Waad to do it instead and man am I happy I did after what happened between them. Don't get me wrong, I love my cousin, my family period, but you do not try to connive your way into my territory. Aaliyah is my territory.

I'm currently sitting with my Tuesday bitch, watching her from across the room. I would honestly rather be beside her studying her as she writes. The way she bites her lip when she's thinking about something or how she runs her hand through her long soft looking tresses sometimes. The cute way her eyebrows furrow and she punches her lips out. The way she bites on the end of her pen when she reads over her work. This girl is sexy without trying, but ever so innocent.

Maybe that's what's drawing me to her. I want to wreck her, fuck her every which way, but hold her afterwards and tell her how beautiful she is. I'll worship her body then tear her down and build her back up to be my woman. She will be everything to me and none of these hoes that I bed on a daily basis would compare to her. She may not know it, but she is mine. Even if she doesn't want me, I won't let anyone else have her.

The timer on our professor's desk went off signalling the end of class and everyone began packing up their shit. I only had a binder and a pen that I put behind my ear so I had nothing to pack up unlike my classmates. Aaliyah stood up grabbing her messenger bag off the back of her seat and put her stuff in it. She must have felt me staring at her because she looked up from her bag at me, her eyes meeting mine. I licked my lips and winked at her.

She scoffed and looked away going back to packing up her stuff. I wanted to hear her voice so I spoke to her. "Hey, baby girl. You don't seem in a rush today. What, nothing to do?", I called out to her. I saw her visibly tense, but she didn't turn around to let me see her beautiful face again. I watched her place her journal in her bag carefully like she was handling glass. "What's in that journal, babe that's got you so guarded? Is it your wildest dreams or fantasies?", I questioned trying to get her to react.