Turning Tables

Zayn shifted a little in the bed, on hand behind his head, the other on the remote at his side. The television presented top him some American show that he thought was just ridiculous, but it's volume was matched by that of the roaring of the shower. Finley had been quick to jump in, seeing as she hadn't showered since the other day when he woke her up to get her on the plane. From there it had been the plane, and then the rental car, and they'd been driving straight through until they got to Arizona. Arizona hadn't been what he had in mind but he was tired of the driving and the inquires from Finley, so he pulled into the next small town he could find, and bam, there they were in Roseguard.

Finley's voice rang loud against the rush of the water, sounding quite uplifting for such a melancholy hotel. Perhaps it was cheerier than it appeared, but Zayn's foul mood would not let him see it any other way than that of the way he viewed life- bittersweet. He loved Finley, he did, and she was practically the only thing he cared for in his life. Once upon time, it had been many things- the band, the fame, the girls... The music.

All of it had become too much for him now. The fame was overwhelming, the band was time-consuming, and the music had become the money. They didn't seem to be in it for the music anymore, just the fame and the cash- or at least that's how Zayn saw it. He was lucky to have such a sweet girl like Finley to keep him grounded and sane.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Maybe what I did was wrong, he thought worriedly. There must have been a thousand other ways I could have handled it. He brought his head up and smashed it down on the pillow once, twice, and then let out a long breath. It was too late to worry, he knew that much. He just had to wait out the storm that was sure to come.

The shower came to a halt and a few moments later Fin exited the bathroom, towel around her body and one rubbing at her red locks of hair. Steam followed her and water dripped down her visible skin -her arms, legs that look unbearably delicious when wet, her collar bone- like the cascades of a waterfall. She simply smiled at me, bending over to grab clothes from her suitcase.

"What do you say to having some dinner tonight? In town?" Zayn asked politely. Finley stood, clothes in one hand and her smile even bigger.

"I'd love that." She really would, he could tell. He'd met her at a coffee shop downtown after One Direction had finally hit the top, internationally known- and yet she took his order as if she hadn't known him at all. In fact, she hadn't. She'd heard their songs before, but due to work and school, she just didn't have the time to keep up with the media. Of course, it had been a huge shock on their third date when she found out. About near fainted, actually. Zayn had laughed and had known she was the girl for him. She'd cared about him without knowing him, and he could appreciate that.

But didn't the boys do that for you too?

This was true. When the boys had first gotten together, it had felt so amazing. It was like having a whole new family. Guys to laugh and joke around with, guys who would help him in any situation. They were his new brothers and he loved it. Most of all he loved how they all loved music, and how they all lost themselves within in.

Or at least, that's how it used to be.

"And I love you," Zayn replied, sitting up and setting the remote on the night stand. Finley, grin still plastered on her face and pale eyes glistening. She leaned over and kissed him. It was an innocent kiss, or so it started out that way. Soon enough, her slippery hands were cradled around his neck, fingers playing with the back of his hair, tangling themselves in it's dark strands.

And it was then that their kiss turned into much more. Her towel came loose and fell to the ground beneath her feet as she climbed onto the bed to sit in Zayn's next. They whispered their love for each other then and he took Finley then, laid her back, kissed down her body, and made love to her.

When they were finished, each satisfied and renewed and the room was filled with the scent of sweat and love, Zayn kissed her forehead and tried to silence his panting. She merely giggled, for she was panting just as much. He kissed her mouth again and again, making up for the words he lacked at the moment.

"I'm glad I came here with you," she said at last, breaking the silence between them. He laughed softly.

"Me too," he said with his mouth against her, kissing her one final time before muttering, "But let's get dressed. I think we both could use a meal right now."

It was her turn to chuckle now. She nodded them, slid off the bed, grabbed her clothes and scurried off into the bathroom. As she got ready, he changed in the main room into something just a little classier. Black jeans and a button down, but he knew she wouldn't mind. He tried to smile down at the wrinkled sheets, but his eyes kept moving to the night stand. He loved Finley, he did, but his mind could not leave the night stand. It was much to similar to the one in Harry's room.

Maybe it wasn't the nightstand that kept creeping into his thoughts. Perhaps it was the small, folded letter he'd left to the boys on Harry's nightstand just hours before fleeing to the States with his girl. Yes, he was sure of it, that had to be it.

Finley stepped out of the bathroom in a lovely fashion- pale pink skinny jeans with a tight, white v-neck and pink vest to go over that. Her hair, though not completely dry, hung down in wet curls but he thought it was just the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. She flashed him a happy smile. "Ready," she said.

"Ready," he echoed.