Beginning. // z.m. au [discontinued]

Chapter 5

Sunday Morning | Maroon 5

It wasn't ideal for me to be awake at such a late (or early, I should say) time, the moon at its highest point in the sky, illuminating the city below with the help of the stars that glistened so bright in the dark. It was a little over two in the morning yet here I was lounging on the sofa with a warm, fuzzy blanket pooling around my legs as I watched whatever it was that I was watching on tv. Harley laid against my leg, his chin lying on my thighs while I munched on a bowl of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate syrup. I also had a bag of barbecue crisps sitting on the table in front of me, and oddly enough some baby carrots and a bottle of ranch to dip them in, too.

It was two in the morning and here I was late night snacking because I could and there was no one here to stop me. No one at all.

I guess that was a perk (or a drawback, too, if you thought about it) of carrying another human being inside of you. For me, my cravings seemed to get the best of me at the most random times, but hey, duty calls. If I wanted it, I was going to make sure I got it.

Just as I was shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, the light from the hallway behind me suddenly flickered on and a groggy voice interrupted the silence in the room. "Babe?" Zayn called out to me, sleepily and cute just like he always was. "What are you doing up?"

I felt a hand on top of my head, then, so I turned around only to see my husband standing behind me with a look of confusion taking over his effortless features, thick eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted. "Ice cream?" He questioned before lifting the hand that messaged my scalp to rub at his tired eyes. He was awfully adorable, so adorable that it was unfair. "At two in the morning? Aren't you lactose intolerant?"

And yeah, I was a little, but I just really wanted some ice cream and we just so happened to have the exact flavor I wanted, was that such a crime? No, it wasn't a crime at all. So I shrugged, going back to focus my attention on whatever show that happened to be playing during this hour.

"I couldn't sleep." I said, aimlessly mixing the leftover ice cream in my bowl. "I couldn't sleep and I had a dream about food so I decided to get some."

Zayn let out an airy chuckle, shaking his head because I was sure he was thinking about how much of an idiot his wife was right now, but I didn't blame him at all. Not one bit.

"So you decided to eat that," he pointed to my bowl, "and crisps and carrots? Are you mad?"

"A little," I giggled, and now not only was I mad, but I was a bit cold, too, and somehow my toes weren't underneath the covers anymore and this bowl of ice cream wasn't helping my case either. "'M cold." I mumbled quietly to myself.

Zayn started to mutter something underneath his breath but I couldn't make out what it was that he was saying. He then grabbed the bowl out of my hands before setting it onto the coffee table in front of us. "Sorry, Harley," he whispered as he walked around the couch until he was stood in front of me. Our dog hopped off the sofa, then, and soon enough Zayn was taking his place.

Zayn lifted up the blanket that was draped across my body, sliding underneath and scooting closer until he was right behind me, his arm reaching over to rest against my torso.

"You know, I get a little worried when you're not next to me in bed sometimes." Zayn softly confesses to me, but I had to admit I wasn't really paying attention much because his voice sounded so smooth and dreamy and I was sure that it'd lull me into a peaceful sleep at any given moment now. I'd heard what he'd just said, though, but I was just a bit too sleepy all of a sudden to fully acknowledge his kind words.