By the time we had arrived back to the hotel, it was almost three in the early morning. I felt miserable, an excruciating pain radiating from my ankles and a headache throbbing against my temples. My stomach was growling profusely and I was nearly falling asleep as we walked through the doors. Zayn was by the side, allowing me to lean against his shoulder as I struggled on my feet. Who knew my feet would be in so much agony from merely walking a few blocks? …Okay, maybe I wandered off fifteen blocks. But still, I was in terrible shape.
“How are you feeling?” Zayn asked, in a hushed whisper.
The sound of his voice snapped me out of whatever imaginative world I had inhabited the entire walk back. Following our… you know…we had walked back to the hotel in complete silence, neither of us daring to speak first. This was the first he had spoken in the past twenty minutes. His voice was electrifying.
“I’m fine,” I squeaked, my face flushing as I glanced at his face. As soon as my eyes settled on his lips, I looked away. I was burning inside.
“Are you sure?” He sounded so concerned.
“Zayn, I’m-” When I turned back to his face, I froze midsentence. His face was so close, inches away from mine. My mind swarmed as I thought about what had happened between us just a half hour ago. Had that been a dream? Maybe a hunger-induced hallucination? Was that even a probable possibility? Could that actually happen?”
“What?” He pressed, his chocolate eyes searching mine.
No, it hadn’t been a hallucination. I remembered clearly, those were the same eyes that had stared back into mine before he…
“Zayn!” I called, jumping back. “Look, I don’t quite understand what had happened back there-”
“What isn’t there to understand?” He frowned, folding his arms.
I was at a loss of words. We were both in the bedroom now. “I mean… Where did that come from? Did you even realize what you did?”
Zayn’s cheeks highlighted with a slight pink, but he kept his hard exterior. “I did realize what I did. Did you?”
My mouth was left somewhat agape. Why was he being so frank, now of all times? “Y-you… kissed me!” I spat, closing my eyes as I said the words. Impossible. This was impossible.
“Should I not have kissed you?” He muttered, his face concentrated on mine.
Good god, he was going to murder me with that smoldering expression. I pondered on his question for a moment. Should he have kissed me? I wasn’t necessarily feeling disgust or hate or detest… Rather, I was feeling…
“Were you just fulfilling your contract as a ‘rightful husband’ in order to avoid blackmail?” I questioned. “Because, if you were, I thought you promised for no intimacy! And, p-plus, it’s not like anyone was watching us!”
Zayn looked slightly disappointed, as if my words had hurt him. “You know, not everything I do is an act.”
What was going on? This had to be a dream. Maybe I was dead. “When it comes to a-affection, everything you do is an act. At least, concerning me.” My words were growing steadier as I firmed my ground.
