Your Creation • Zarry

3. I'm not a good guy

I plopped down onto the couch where he had been laying and decided to stretch my entire body across it. I closed my eyes. I swear this wasn't even the booze talking, but why did this always happen to me whenever I was with Zayn? Most of the time the energy between us was light and airy, like the natural chemistry between two good mates, and other times I felt like butterflies invaded my stomach and set up their residence.

It was no secret that I was a naturally flirtatious person with just about everyone. I enjoyed the company of people, which meant pretty much all people, and to an extent I felt like the rest of the boys in the band were also charming in that way. It was typical for us to mess around playfully with each other, but I always felt like Zayn was different from the others and I didn't know why. I could never explain it.

There was this thing about Zayn. His aura, his energy, his vibe, I don't know how exactly but whatever it was it drew me in like a magnet and I just wanted to be around him all the time and whenever I wasn't, I caught myself thinking about him and wondering what he was doing. There was no other friend of mine that I felt this attached to and it was strange.

Zayn came back into the room with a cup of tea and placed it on the coffee table.

"Thank you darling," I said with a small, gracious smile.

I didn't particularly want the tea, but it was a kind gesture so I drank it anyway. I moved my legs so Zayn could sit down on the couch, but I immediately used his lap as a nice footrest. I then proceeded to tell Zayn all about my long, wild night. He had thought it was funny that Grimmie brought in the stripper for a laugh and took the piss out of me that I found it so uncomfortable.

"Only you would find it awkward. He should have gone with more of a David Hasselhoff type," Zayn snickered.

"That would have been sick," I replied truthfully.

I loved a good David Hasselhoff scenario.

"So what was she like? Like, how did she dance?" he asked, slightly raising a brow.

"I dunno. Like...you know, a stripper."

"No, I don't know. Why don't you demonstrate, yeah?"

I shook my head.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, go on," he said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes and removed myself from the couch, laughing to myself. Zayn just loved setting me up in these situations where he had the ability to tease me or use me as some future anecdote and there I was, willingly doing whatever it was to amuse him because I liked his attention too much.

I stood in front of Zayn with my hands on my hips and I started to sway them from side to side while making those noises that you hear in the beginning of the song "Pony" by Genuine that sounded like some bad porno and I am dead sure that I couldn't have made it any more awkward.

"Wow, I'm speechless. Is that it?" he pressed on, looking thoroughly amused.

I tried to hide my smile and shook my head no, slowly unbuttoning my shirt and staring straight at him. I immediately wanted to die out of embarrassment, but I kept going anyway because I had already started so I figured I might as well go for it and even though this whole moment was supposed to be funny, my mind started wandering somewhere else on its own...but I had to stop myself.

Zayn looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"What!? This isn't sexy? I'll have you know that there are plenty of people out there who'd pay loads of money for this. You should feel honored."

Then Zayn really did start laughing.

"I'm sorry...you're right. It was very sexy. I think you should reconsider your career field and become an exotic dancer instead."

"Maybe I will then!" I exclaimed, smacking him playfully in the arm.

Zayn and I stayed up for a little while longer just talking and listening to music. He liked showing me reggae stuff and R&B artists that I hadn't heard of before, asking my opinion on things and spewing off ideas for songs. Then Zayn vented to me about Perrie and how she was furious over the cheating accusation, which was actually true, and by the way, it wasn't the first time either.

"Do you even love her?" I asked earnestly.

Zayn paused for a minute.

"I do...but...if I'm being honest, I'm always craving sex far more than I should be. Like, we're always away and I can't just not have sex for the better half of a year do you know what I mean? I mean, you know...you've been there with me. Do you think it's actually becoming kind of a problem? Maybe I'm not a good guy."

I understood it all too well, so I could never judge him. What young guy wasn't horny all the time? I knew I was. And he was right, we were on tour a lot and I would be lying if I said I wasn't with him a few of the times where he did cheat on her. We pulled girls together and I actively had participated in encouraging his unfaithfulness.

"You're right. You are a bad, bad man. A terrible person. Awful! The worst!"

"Shut up," Zayn snorted with laughter and then shoved me off the couch.

See, the thing with Zayn was that despite his overpowered libido, he was also a romantic guy, so there in laid the conflict. He wasn't a bad man. He really wasn't. I knew that he had a big heart and he wanted the comfortability and security of a loving relationship, however, he wanted to have some fun too, and Zayn often struggled the most with finding the balance in everything.

And this was also precisely why I wasn't dying to get into a serious relationship.

I'm assuming that Zayn and I chatted for a bit longer but my memory became foggy as dawn approached, but what I do know is that at some point I must have passed out because when I woke up Zayn was nowhere to be found.