L-O-V-E

The early morning sunlight shone down upon the earth, illuminating the charming bedroom effortlessly as the flowing sunflower yellows and sherbet oranges melded together beautifully. An assortment of harmonious chirps all intermingling in nature’s faint musical. Droplets of dew upon the translucent window pane, the suns sleepy rays attempting to heat last night’s precipitation from the crystalline surface. The drowsy shuffling of sheets disrupted the otherwise tranquil bedroom, Zayn Jawaad Malik’s enamored golden hazel flecked irises examined the fallen angel tangled in a mess of vanilla cream Egyptian cotton sheets, the muscle within his chest hammering tenaciously at the sight, bare muscular tattooed arm tightening around slender narrow shoulders. A somnolent smirk crept across his satiated lips, calloused fingertips brushing nimbly over the angel’s delicate porcelain skin; Zayn closed his ambrosial golden hazel eyes tightly, wishing so desperately that he could freeze this very moment in time.

The musician’s calloused fingertips nimbly brushing a few strands of silken chestnut ringlets behind her ear, thumb subconsciously rubbing soothing circles across her smooth flawless porcelain skin. Zayn Malik’s heart gave an awkward flutter as he lay there, warm golden hazel flecked irises taking in the gorgeous young woman’s features; flawless porcelain skin, the softness to her perfectly arched nose, the fullness to her peach lips. The musician’s masterly calloused fingertips nimbly drew invisible shapes across the tender flesh of the girl’s slender neck, Adam’s apple bobbing in strained apprehension as his fingertips brushed over the beauty’s protruding collarbone. The elegant young woman nestled against his tattooed muscular chest was his entire world; Zayn would do whatever it took to make sure that a monstrous soul never laid a threatening hand on her fragile body. No harm would ever come to Miah Jade Horan as long as there was a determined breath in Zayn Jawaad Malik’s smitten tattooed body.

Guilt swelled within the depths of his toned stomach, he knew the adoration within his heart for the Irish goddess was wrong on multifarious levels. Miah was Niall’s elder sister, and Harry’s girlfriend; his band mates, his friends, his brothers. Unfortunately, the bond established between the boys wasn’t strong enough to cease the unyielding adoration brewing within his heart for Miah. At first, Zayn dismissed the bizarre fascination for the stunning brunette as a mere crush. The kind of attraction fueled by a sexual desire; but as things began to blossom between Miah and Harry, the Bradford native quickly concluded the feelings were much stronger than a mere crush. Zayn’s strong calloused fingers delved in the young woman’s silken chestnut hair, combing through the lengthy tendrils in a soothing affectionate manner. Memories of recent hostility between the band mates crashing against the previous night’s events.

”Are you daft?” Miah’s formidable Irish accent screeched in anger, radiant cobalt irises staring menacingly at the curly haired singer. Zayn’s inquisitive golden flecked hazel eyes caught sight of the couple; Harry’s guilt ridden chartreuse irises fixated on his beige leather boots, Miah’s charming supple pink glossed lips pressed tightly in an unnerving frown. The consolidated tension was suffocating; the animalistic rage in Miah’s delightful indigo eyes was bizarre. Normally the young woman possessed such composure and understanding; he’d never witnessed the Irish girl in such a state. Truthfully, he didn’t think it possible for the beauty to exert any sort of aggression toward anyone. Miah was too caring, too loyal, and too sweet.

“What can I do to fix this, love?” Harry’s strong hands reached out, masculine fingers clutching the delicate rose cotton of his lover’s cardigan.

“You can’t fix this, Harry.” Miah’s graceful voice faltered, sadness consuming the heart wrenching truth as a sniffle pierced the devastating silence.

“Miah.” Harry’s deep voice plead, warm tears blurring the musician’s chartreuse eyes. “Surely you d-don’t mean that.”

“I am sorry.” Miah whispered, meticulously manicured hands combing through the lengthy loose tendrils of silken chestnut as she sighed heavily. “I can’t wait forever, Harry.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Harry growled through grit teeth, strong calloused fingers tugging at the strewn milk chocolate curls by the roots. Tearful chartreuse irises glaring maliciously at Miah, Harry’s entire demeanor changed in a split second, a wave of uncontrollable rage and jealousy consuming the young man. “We’re not married, Miah! You don’t own me. I can speak to whomever I please. It’s not my fault you’re impossibly insecure!”

“Excuse me? I am insecure because you’re dodgy!”

“Piss off, yeah?” Harry snarled maliciously, scowling darkly as the singer yanked violently at the bracelet gifted to him by his girlfriend for their one year anniversary. Tossing the torn twine at the young woman’s feet carelessly, warm tears blurred Miah’s vision as her button nose burnt. The impending tears threatening to spill as severity of the situation settled between the couple; it was over. Miah snatched the remembrance from the laminate hard wood floor, a strangled sob escaping her supple lips.

“I hate you, Harry.” Miah hiccupped, clutching the braided twine in a white knuckled fist as she turned toward the abandoned staircase. She needed her best friend; he was the only one who could pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. Zayn Malik was always there to scare the monsters away, to fight off the demons and shed light on her darkened fragile heart. A bitter scoff escaped Harry’s chapped lips, milk chocolate curls swaying as he shook his head in disbelief. He knew exactly where she would go, and it infuriated him.

“Oh yeah, go to Zayn!” Harry’s deep voice accused coldly, the venomous statement causing Miah to stop in her tracks almost instantly. “This was never about me! You just wanted to break it off so you could be with him, you intolerable slag!”

“I only ever wanted you, Harry. But you’re right about one thing.” Miah replied suffocating the urge to turn around, fearing the bravery would subside the moment her cobalt irises met his tear stained face. “It was never about you. It was about me never being good enough for you. G’bye Harry. Have a nice life.”

An overcoming sadness consumed Zayn’s lovestricken heart, for once, this was a quandary that, despite all effort, he couldn’t solve. No amount of soothing words, no amount of comforting embraces, and no amount of affectionate reassurance would heal the damage inflicted upon the Irish damsel’s fragile heart. The Bradford native released a helpless sigh; he wanted so desperately to inform the beautiful girl that Harry had it completely wrong. Zayn’s calloused fingertips caressed Miah’s smooth cheekbone, thumb grazing the supple flesh of her alluring peach lips. The pair spent the night watching romance films, wrapped up snuggly in the Egyptian sheets of Zayn’s queen sized bed; the musician occasionally humming soothingly as the girl wept into his broad shoulder, dainty manicured hands clutching his t-shirt in a white knuckled fist desperately searching for a release to the searing pain burning within her chest. An unwavering impulse to reveal his affection crept to the forefront of his thoughts; talented fingers delving in the girl’s lengthy chestnut tendrils as he set his forehead gently against hers. Zayn’s heart ached as he nuzzled Miah’s button nose, golden flecked hazel irises glancing at the young woman’s supple parted peach lips.

“Miah.” The musician’s deep voice was raspy, a mixture of lust and lack of use. “Miah.” He repeated, voice rising the slightest as he massaged her scalp.

“Yes, Zayn?” The youth inquired in a hushed whisper, consumed with a sleep ridden haze. Lean limbs stretching in a feline manner as the young woman’s cobalt irises fluttered open.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Miah replied dismissively, yawning drowsily as a lazy smirk tugged at her supple lips.

“No.” Zayn’s dark eyebrows furrowed together, heart hammering against its confine viciously. “I am in love with you.”

“What?” Miah inquired, the statement startling the young woman to a complete wake. “I d-don’t think.. d-did you just-”

“I love you, MJ.” Zayn interrupted, his heart viciously collided against his athletic ribcage in rhythmic throbs. “Harry’s my best mate, but he’s wrong. You’re perfect.”

“Zayn, you’re n-not-”

“Shh.” He interrupted the nervous babbling, running his thumb over the smooth flesh of her supple lips. Instantly silencing the young woman, he released a heavy sigh. “I know you love him. I just want you to know that I’ll wait. I know you’ll have trouble at first; you’ll miss him, you’ll remember the good times you had, you’ll get jealous when you see him with someone else. But, I’ll be there to let you know you’re not alone, we’ll form our own memories and when you’re ready.” Zayn paused, heart viciously collided against his ribcage as he closed the gap between their faces. The moment Zayn’s full lips met Miah’s supple lips in an affectionate gentle kiss, sparks flew. Miah’s heart fluttered awkwardly, an odd twisting within the depths of her toned stomach. Zayn slowly pulled away, placing his forehead against hers once more. “We’ll make other people jealous. I’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Me heart won’t trust for a while, Zayn.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to, I want to. I just want you to know, I would. Just promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“Give me a chance, yeah?”

“I promise.” A comfortable silence fell upon the teenagers, neither feeling the urge to break the lethargic yet oddly delightful atmosphere. Zayn had been wrong; he assumed he couldn’t heal the wounds. That no matter what he said or did that no amount of comfort would fix the damage Harry had done. He couldn’t see that despite it all, the only thing Miah needed to move on was someone that would love her entirely; the good and the bad. Zayn did, and he would.