It's Gotta Be You ~One Direction Fanfic

Part Sixty-Two

Mel’s POV

“Zayn,” I whined as he climbed out of the bed.

“What?” He asked quietly, yawning a little.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I was going to go and get ready,” He replied.

“Why?” I mumbled.

“Because I have nothing better to do,” He shrugged.

“Please don’t go,” I moaned, “You’re taking away my warmth.”

“You have a duvet,” He chuckled.

“I also have a boyfriend,” I reminded him and he chuckled before climbing back in bed and pulling me into his bare chest.

“See, now I’m much warmer,” I mumbled against his chest.

“Good,” He chuckled.

“Are you doing anything today?” I asked as I lay in his arms.

“Erm, I think we have an interview with Capital at six,” He mumbled.

“So, we have the whole day then?” I asked.

“Yup,” He popped his ‘p’.

“Great,” I smiled at him.

“So, what do you want to do?” He asked me.

“This,” I replied easily.

“Sounds, good to me,” He grinned.

“Mhm,” I nodded.

“Where are the others?” I asked after a moment.

“They’ve all gone to the Outdoor Pursuit Centre, well except Niall and Sophia, remember?” He smiled.

“Oh yeah…” I trailed off.

“I need to pee,” I mumbled and climbed out the bed. I decided to clean my teeth whilst I was in there and run a brush through my knotty hair.

“Hey Mel, what’s this?” Zayn asked from somewhere in my bedroom.

“Huh?” I asked walking out the bathroom.

“In here?” He asked, but I couldn’t see him, I then heard shuffling in my walk in wardrobe.

“No!” I shouted and ran after him, but it was too late, he’d found the secret door at the back of my wardrobe, that I hid behind clothes.

“What is this?” He asked looking around until he found the light switch to the little room. He flicked it and the room erupted in light.

“This is embarrassing,” I mumbled as all my pieces of artwork hung from the walls, littered the floor, and were propped up on stands scattered across the room.

“What is all this?” He repeated looking at individual pieces.

“Nothing,” I hurried over to the back corner where I’d started a painting of Zayn, I did not want him to see that; and then I looked across the room and saw Zayn pick up my sketch pad.

“No,” I cried as he opened it. He froze and looked up at me frowning; he then smirked and turned his back to me.

“No, Zayn seriously don’t! That’s so embarrassing,” I moaned and tried to grab the pad from behind him, but he kept it out of my reach.

“What are you so afraid of me seeing? These are amazing,” He said as he flipped through the pages.

“There’s sketches in there you should not see,” I said, jumping and trying to grab the pad over his shoulder.