You Had Me At Hello || z.m.

A Night To Remember

"Zayn, what are you doing here?"

He's wearing a red shirt with long sleeves that holds his body tight, underlining his muscular shoulders.

"Liam told me I could find you here..."

His hair is flat, black as always, and his stubble covers his perfect face.

He walks closer to me.

"I wanted to talk to you, Irene..."

I look at him while breathing normally becomes harder and harder.

"I wanted to say, I'm sorry...for what happened last night!" his big hazel eyes shine in the semi-darkness of the street.

"Perrie was really mean to you...and you didn't deserve it."

"Zayn, it's not your fault. You don't need to apologize."

"I want to... It hurts me to know you're suffering because of me."

A stab of pain hits me in the stomach.

"So...Liam was your "informer", huh?" I ask jokingly, trying to ease the atmosphere.

"Yeah, he's a good spy. I wanted to be alone with you, and he helped me out."

Alone with you. Those words sound so painful coming from his mouth.

"You're kind, Zayn. But, don't worry. Everything is fine."

"So...we're still friends, right?"

I swallow hard, making a big effort to stop the tears from falling down my face.

"Yes, Zayn. Friends!"

We shake hands and awkwardly laugh, a little embarrassed.

We stand there in front of each other, not knowing what to say. Should we talk about the fact that I said I've fallen for you, maybe? Gosh, he's so closed and uncommunicative. I'm not really good at this kind of things, and he's not helping. I stay there, suffocating, gasping, embarrassed.

"How was your night out with Liam?" Zayn tries to easy the atmosphere.

Why can't he see this? Why can't he feel how my heart races, how every single part of my body, my mind, all of me is eager to be with him, to touch him, to feel him, to share moments with him. Why can't he see this?

"Oh, fine... I always have fun with Liam."

My hands are shaking. For how long will I be able to look him in the eyes and pretend to be ok?

"I know. Liam is the best friend you could have found."

His sweet smile kills me, his accent, his words. Everything about him gives me butterflies in the stomach.

The color of his skin, his black hair, his incredibly long eyelashes. His pouty lips, his white teeth that meet with his tongue every time he makes a smile.

"Yeah. He's become my best friend, together with Alice!"

He lifts his head, raising his eyebrows. His cute little mouth opens in a sad smirk, and with a quizzical look in his eyes he asks "What about me?"

I let out a little hysterical giggle, turning away from him and looking at the ground.

"You're quite...likable too!" I try to joke, pretending to be fine.

He opens wide his mouth in disbelief, wearing a funny expression.

"Really?" he playfully asks while covering the distance between me and him with a big jump.

"I'm just likeable?" he repeats, putting his arms around my hips and starting to tickle me.

I can't help but hysterically laugh and scream.

"Noooo Zyan, stop, stop, please! God, stop, you're a good friend to me!" I pray.

"Mh, I think you can do better than that!" he mischievously says, while his hands run on my hips and my tummy, and I unsuccessfully try to stop him, but his arms are strongly folded around my body and I'm not able to push him away.

"Ok, ok, you're one of my best friends, but Zayn please stoooop!" I scream, my words almost suffocated by my laughs.

He stops tickling me, and I almost lose my balance, but he grabs me, his arms still around my waist, and I surrender, putting my hands on his chest: as I raise my head and meet his smiling gaze, I start to feel my chest palpitating fast again.

He looks down into my eyes.

"Your cheeks are on fire." He observes, caressing my face softly.

I'm over the moon. My body and mind can't take this anymore: the feelings in my heart are too much to sustain. My brain blacks out, I really don't know what I'm doing, but I suddenly push my body against Zayn's and press my lips on his, tightening my arms around his hips.

We kiss for the first time, and everything stops for a moment.