More Than A Woman » Zarry ✔

thirty two

Zayn woke up after one o'clock the next day and the first thing she did was reach over for Harry. She couldn't feel him, so she reached out even further. Still, she did not feel him and that made her open her eyes in that direction. Right away, she noticed three things. One, Harry wasn't there, two, she was in her own bed and three, she had tattoos.

Tattoos?

When she noticed the ones that covered the back of her hand and up her arms, she scrambled from underneath the covers and stood up. Quickly, she bolted to the bathroom and stood frozen in front of the mirror. She was speechless at what she was seeing. For the first time in a year and two months, she was a he. She was the man with the beard and mustache. He was Zayn Malik.

He ran his fingers over his beard just to make sure it was real. It was. He was actually a man again.

A man... Whoa... I'm a man. Yet, he still didn't believe it, so he reached down, pulled at the waistband of his underwear and looked down in it. Well yep, he had a dick again. He was most definitely a man.

He started to laugh at his reflection in the mirror, then bent over on the counter. When he bent over though, he noticed that his chest muscles flexed a little and he immediately stopped laughing. He cocked his head sideways as he stared at it and he unconsciously ran his hands across his chest and over his nipples. It felt weird not to have breasts anymore. He felt so flat chested and odd now. He also came to the reality that he wouldn't be buying anymore cute bras to flaunt in anymore. What a shame. Because Harry really liked her in those.

He shook the thought from his mind, then walked over to the toilet. The seat was already up and that sort of made him smile a little. She used to have to let that stupid thing down just to pee nearly every single time. But not anymore. He didn't even have to pull his underwear down all the way. He could just pull his dick over the waistband or through the little slot and aim. Men had it easy. They never had to worry about being afraid to sit down on a germ infested toilet in a public restroom. It was luxury he was coming to appreciate.

After using the bathroom and flushing the toilet, he stood back in front of the mirror again. He turned on the water and then washed his hands. The whole time, he looked at his hair in the mirror and noted how there was not much that needed to be done. When he was Veronica, she never woke up pleased with it. And she ended up needing extra time to make it look nice and presentable. Not having to do anything and not complaining at all, made this time in the bathroom seem so... boring. So using his wet hands, he roughly ruffed it up a little just for the hell of it. There. Now it's messy... sort of.

He quickly left the bathroom before he could find anything else new to discover about his body and he stood in the middle of his room. Not a sound could be heard. Nothing. No other person was in his condo and there was no sign of any other person living there besides him.

It had been a year since he and Perrie broke up and nobody was at least periodically staying there with him? In Zayn's world, did he not ever find anyone else?

"What was I doing during all that time?" He asked himself out loud, because he couldn't see himself not dating by now. Not when it was a whole year after that breakup. Zayn Malik never let grass grow under his feet and he surely wouldn't be so torn over a girl that he would resolve to never date again. Uh uh. No way.

He went checking the drawers in the nightstands beside the bed and found nothing. Everything was his and it was just a bunch of junk at that. Since he didn't see anything there, he went into his closet to see what was there. Nothing extra. Just his own clothes. No wacky button up with ugly prints, no too tight skinny jeans, no raggedy pair of old suede boots, no nothing. Who's closet was this again? Because he perfectly remembered having to push Harry's things out of the way just to get to his own.