Taking Chances

I slipped into the apartment quietly, figuring that everyone was sleeping, since the light was off. But once the door was closed behind me and I took a good look around, I saw that Rebecca, dressed in her pajamas, was sitting on the couch, watching Doctor Who. “Hi,” she greeted.

“Hey,” I responded, taking a breath. I let out a small cough and sniffed again. Something in the air smelled stale and very familiar. “What’s that?” I asked Rebecca, cocking an eyebrow.

She looked up at me with innocent brown eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

My heart started to race with angry adrenaline as I threw open the door to Zayn’s room.

My eyes found him immediately, his body perched on the sill of the giant window, half-outside, half-inside. In his hand was a cigarette, the end glowing brightly in the dark night.

He turned to face me, having heard my dramatic entrance, just as I went to shut the door so Rebecca wouldn’t get scarred by any arguing. He bit his lip guiltily as he put out the cigarette on the building outside and dropped it into the street. “It’s not what it looks like,” he defended as he got to his feet.

“I thought you quit,” I stated, glaring at him, hoping that it would make some sort of impact.

“I did,” he replied, not making eye contact with me. “But…I guess this whole thing is just stressing me out.”

“And you thought that relapsing on cigarettes would help the situation?”

“To be honest, it calmed down my nerves,” he shot back. “So it did help. And don’t say I’m relapsing like I'm addicted to heroin or something.”

I sighed and shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you want to get lung cancer? Or throat cancer? That’d be great for your singing voice, wouldn’t it?”

He opened his mouth, obviously ready to shout back at me, before he ran a hand through his hair. “Bailey, stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop…trying to fight with me.” He looked up at me, his eyes wide and pleading. “It’s like you’re searching for things to argue about.”

I took a step back, taking off-guard by his accusation. “I am not.”

“You are.” He walked around his bed and stood right in front of me, staring right through the barrier I had been trying to put up. A barrier that I hadn’t realized was there until he broke it. “I don’t want to fight. I’m so sorry for everything I did with Charlie that ever made you think that you weren’t the only one that I cared about. I’m sorry that I called her the most intelligent girl I’ve ever met. I’m sorry that I grinded with her at the club. I’m sorry that I compliment her too much or that I don’t compliment you enough. And, most of all, I’m so sorry that I made you think that you were more beautiful to me in that dress, with a mask of makeup, with your hair straightened, than you are every other day. Because it’s not true. You’re absolutely gorgeous every day, even right after you wake up, without a bit of makeup on, your hair a mess, wearing clothes that hang off you.” He reached forward slowly and tucked a bit of hair behind my ear, taking another step toward me, his gaze intense. “And I’m so sorry that it took all day for me to say this to you.”

I swallowed, not knowing what to say, trying to tell him just how okay it was with my eyes, which were glazing over with tears.

He seemed to figure out the message, thankfully, and started to lean in, his hand moving from behind my ear to the back of my neck.

“Hold on,” I breathed against his mouth, pulling my head back a little. “Are you sorry for smoking?”

Zayn sighed, trying not to smile, as he answered, “Yes, I’m sorry for smoking.”

“And you'll never do it again?” I teased, smirking at him.

“I promise that I won’t smoke another cigarette, no matter how stressed I am.”

I grinned, and he finally leaned forward to kiss me, his hands now gripping my hips. I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to mine as his tongue ran between my lips.

I allowed him access, trying to keep from smiling at how perfect it felt to be kissing him again. Even if he did kind of taste like cigarettes.

A couple minutes later, I pulled away and leaned my forehead against his, our heavy breaths mixing together in the small space between us. “I didn’t say my part,” I whispered softly.

“What’s that?” he asked, backing up a little bit to look at me better.

I took a deep breath before connecting our gazes. “I’m sorry that I freaked out like I did. I know I was being a little dramatic about things. It’s just…” I bit my lip and scratched the back of my neck as I felt the blush closing in as a result of my thoughts. “I see Charlie, how beautiful she is, how outgoing she is, how fun she is, how much of a partier she is…and I see every guy’s ideal girl, you know?”

“Bailey,” Zayn tried to interrupt, but I put a finger to his lips.

“Just let me finish. I’m trying to tell you the truth. That’s what I see. And I know that she’s Spanish, and she’s just more touchy-feely than I am. So I see her actions, like when she hugs you or something, and I interpret how it would mean to me if I had been doing those things, not how she interprets it. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it does,” he replied. “You two are entirely different people. It was just a matter of time before you guys had some kind of miscommunication.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you for understanding.” My face heated up more as I added, very quietly, “And I’m sorry for screaming at you so loudly that the whole floor heard it.”

“It’s fine,” Zayn reassured me. “I’m pretty sure most of them were at work anyway.”

I grinned at him, leaning forward and pecking him on the lips. He pulled his head back quickly, his eyes locked on me again.

“By the way, I want to throw something in.”

I nodded to let him know I was listening.

“I know you’re insecure about yourself and about Charlie. But I need you to know something.”

He paused for a second, and when he didn’t start again quickly enough for my liking, I urged, “What?”

“Charlie’s not my ideal girl, Bailey. She never has been, and she never will be. And it’s nothing against her. Everyone’s got a type. I like girls who are quiet at first, but can become open and friendly when put in the right environment. I like girls who are low-key and have absolutely no problems with staying in and watching a movie instead of having to be taken out all the time. I like girls who love to spend time with me, but allow me to have my own space at the same time. I like girls who are extremely intelligent and well-spoken and a book worm, while still being incredibly oblivious about things like video games.” I blushed, staring at the carpet under our feet. “And I love a girl who’s humble, yet still knows exactly what she wants and has an opinion about things that she's willing to assert, no matter the company.”

I swallowed as he put his finger under my chin, tilting my face up to look at him again. “I love you, Bailey. You’re my type. And you never have to worry about another girl changing that. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed in a small voice.

He smiled shortly before connecting his lips to mine again. The taste of smoke was still in his mouth, but it was nearly gone, making his kiss more familiar once again.

There was a knock at the door, which sent us jumping back, my lip hitting hard against his tooth. “Shit,” he muttered, checking on his gum line for blood.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” I rushed, worried.

“I’m fine,” he assured me. “Your lip’s starting to swell though.”

All it took was running my tongue over the spot quickly to confirm his statement. “Great,” I sighed sarcastically.

Then, I turned to the door. “Rebecca?” I called out. “Was there something you wanted?”

“I was just wondering where you’re sleeping tonight,” she replied in a shy voice.

I looked over at Zayn, whose face turned sultry instantly. Laughing lightly, I called back, “I’ll sleep on the floor next to the couch. Save a blanket for me.”

“Okay,” she answered. A second later, I could hear the sound of her footsteps retreating from the door.

“You know,” Zayn mumbled, drawing me in against his body again, “you’re always welcome in my bed.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” I chuckled. Then, just to tease him a little, I stood on my tiptoes and whispered with my lips almost touching his, “And maybe, someday, I’ll take you up on your offer.”