He's a Bit Obsessed (Z. M. AU)

Chapter Eight

I flopped out of bed and slipped on some sweatpants and tee shirt. I was aware that it was total fashion crime, but I didn’t have enough time to care. I quickly put my hair in a bun and grabbed my flip-flops. I ran out to my car and left the driveway. As promised, I had zipped through traffic and arrived with 30 seconds to spare. I hopped out of my car and climbed up the steps to his front door. My finger was inches away from the doorbell when Zayn appeared out of nowhere and opened it for me.

Something stirred inside me as I took in his appearance. It was simple, yet classy. A red plaid shirt with hues of blue and purple and a pair of khaki pants. Normally I would not approve of khaki, but it kind of suited him. Bonus points for using a belt and avoiding the sag that every boy seemed to think was some kind of hip trend. But what really got me was his hair. Instead of his usual quiff he had his hair down. Kind of like the Justin Bieber hair except a million times better.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I said.

“I know, it’s almost as if I live here,” he laughed easily. I was kind of shocked how much he had come out of his shell in the short time that I had known him.

I stepped into his house and looked around in awe. It was beautiful.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” he mumbled.

“Was that supposed to be a Harry Potter reference?” I blurted out.

He giggled slightly (a boy giggle, but a giggle all the same). “Actually it was, though it is a common enough sentence that I was hoping I could get away with slipping one into the conversation.”

“Funny, I didn’t peg you for much of a reader,” I joked.

“Funny, I didn’t peg you as a reader at all,” he retorted.

I sighed, “Well, that is because I’m not, but come on, it’s Harry freaking Potter. It’s like required reading to be a human being.”

“You’d be surprised by the amount of people who haven’t read it.”

I sighed again. After a few seconds of comfortable silence he seemed to realize we were still standing in the front entryway of his house.

“Would you like a tour?” he asked.

“Duh,” I exaggerated, “that’s what I came for, obviously. Like who cares about a science project when I can just look at your house?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, reverting back to his shy self.

We walked out of the entryway and into a large living room with a kitchen just a few feet away. From the outside their house looked like any average house, but from the inside… Let’s just say I actually would have looked at his house for the entire time if we didn’t have a project to do. With vaulted ceilings, crown molding, and an elegant bay window, combined with wine colored couches, I could’ve stayed there all day.

“So, um,” I winced. It was hard for me to see Zayn acting so shy again. I felt like we were just having a great conversation. “Um, this is the living room, in which we, um, live?”

“Are you sure?” I smirked at him and he returned it with a toothy grin.

He took a deep breath and seemed to regain himself because from then on he was much more talkative. “Yes, I’m sure, just checking to see if you were paying attention.”

“What, did you steal that line out of I teacher handbook?” I punched him lightly on the arm.

“Ow, that hurt,” he rubbed at the spot on his arm where I had punched him.

“It wasn’t even that hard! Oh wait, I forgot, you’re a reader! No wonder you’re so weak!” I teased him.

He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Hey, we’re going to take over the world some day, just you wait. You’ll be sorry you didn’t join the revolution when you could have.”

“Oh no, readers. I’m so scared.” The sarcasm was so heavy I’m pretty sure it weighed down the air around us.

“Hey, there are some pretty messed up things in books, and we would not hesitate to use obscene torture tactics we acquired whilst reading.”

We wandered towards the kitchen, which was equally as gorgeous as the living room before it.  

“Did you really just say ‘whilst’”? I asked, shocked.

“Why yes I did. My mother is actually from England. Maybe you can meet her one day and hear her accent. It’s pretty alarming.”

Meet his mother? Did that mean his mother wasn’t here now? Maybe the whole ‘opposite sex coming over’ thing wasn’t as big of a deal with mothers and sons as it was for fathers and daughters. “Wait, if she’s not here, where is she?”

“Oh, she, uh, works late.” He leaned up against a granite countertop.

The tone in his voice made me want to change the subject ASAP. “So, what is this project over again?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” He laughed.

“Um, I promise this is the last time.” And I hoped to God it was the last time.

“Okay let me break it down for you,” he started. Zayn then proceeded to explain in great detail this project we had to do that I couldn’t care less about.  I just (as creepy as it sounds) watched him the whole time he talked. I studied the shape of his mouth as he passionately went on about the scientific details of the project. His Cupid’s bow (the thing between your nose and your top lip) was very strong, making his top lip look smaller. His bottom lip was larger and more pouty. And they were the most incredible shade of light pink. My eyes traveled to his large hands. They were at least fifty percent bigger than mine and on his right hand you could see the black residue left behind by charcoal drawing.

My trance was broken when he said, “Okay, so you get it now don’t you? I won’t have to explain it to you again, right?”

“Right.”

Wrong.

A/n: Hi guys! It's been a while, hasn't it? I always promise that I'm gonna update more frequently and then I never do, so let's hope I can do it this time! So, what did you guys think of this chapter? Please vote or comment if you liked it. I hope you guys had a good day and I'll see you next week (maybe?)!

Maggie