slow it down // zayn malik

chapter nineteen // lies spread like wildfire.

linley's pov

As slowly as humanly possible, I stretch my limbs and take my time opening my eyes. Sleep coats my joints, causing me to let out a pleased groan as I gently float back into consciousness. The bright light shines in through the camper windows.

As I slowly enter reality, realization hits me. This is the second night in a row I've woken up in this bed, with Zayn next to me, with no memory of going to bed. The last thing I remember about last night was sitting around the bonfire with everyone. 

Unable to help myself, I roll over so I'm facing Zayn. He's still fast asleep, limbs stretched out. One of his legs dangles off the edge of the bed, making him look all that much more exhausted. The corners of my lips twitch ever-so-slightly as he softly snores. 

 He has to be one of the most peaceful-looking sleepers I've ever seen. He looks like a greek statue, or something along those lines. Unlike most people who sleep so unflattering, with their mouth hung wide open - myself included in that category.

Of course Zayn looks like a little angel...

I let out a tired yawn when suddenly sharp knocking pounds against the door in an unnecesarily aggressive manner. It sends me sitting up in bed with a jolt, letting out a little scream of surprise. 

Zayn jerks away as well, gasping for air as he's unexpectedly woken from his deep sleep. 

"Linley! Zayn!" A chorus of voices comes from outside of the camper, sounding frantic and worried. It sends my heartbeat through the roof.

Instantly - and I'm not quite sure why - I turn to look at Zayn, waiting for him to do something. He rubs his eyes tiredly and tries his hardest to wake his body up. 

"Who in the hell..." He grumbles, his voice sounding gruff, bogged down with tiredness. 

We both get off the bed and stumble around to get our boots on, our sleepy legs make it hard to balance, and our handcuffed wrists don't make it any easier either. 

Gritting my teeth, finding the pounding on the door to be incredibly annoying, I whip the door open, wearing a nasty glare for whoever is standing on the other side. 

Louis and Mia both quickly dart into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. They both wear expression of panic and worry, causing my eyebrows to furrow together in confusion. I stumble backwards into Zayn as they barge into the small, enclosed room.

"What's going on?" Zayn asks as the two catch their breath.

"Sorry to wake you guys up, but it's important," Louis promises as he takes a seat beside Mia at the edge of the bed, giving both Zayn and I an incredibly serious expression. 

I quickly share a nervous look with Zayn, wondering if this happens often in their little boyband. Or maybe perhaps Louis just has a flare for the dramatics?

"Word got out quickly into the media of you two and your performance together. Now everyone is going wild about you guys. It's all over twitter and I just got a call from management saying that paparazzi are fighting tooth and nail to get inside the festival," Louis explains, causing my eyes to widen in shock. 

Zayn mumbles swear words beneath his breath as he runs his fingers through his hair in an incredibly stressed manner. But by the look on his face I can tell this isn't out of the norm for them.

"Paparazzi isn't allowed in the festival," I assure them, remembering that from last time I was here. Otherwise this place would be crawling with those creeps...

"They'll find a way in," Zayn spits, shaking his head with frustration, his usually light voice weighed down with pessimism. 

"Maybe you guys should just stay here for a bit, until everything calms down?" Louis suggests, gesturing to the small, cramped bedroom of Sable's parent's camper.