Storms {z.m.}

Chapter 54

Chapter 54 – Christine

I can't believe the day of the wedding came so quickly. It seems like just yesterday that I was standing outside Zayn's doorstep watching him come down the stairs in all his broken-hearted glory, and now here he is in front of me in a tuxedo, smiling as wide as ever as the girl who broke his heart in the first place walks down the aisle. Watching him lift her veil off her face is such an out-of-body experience; it doesn't feel real. The rest of the ceremony proceeds like a normal wedding should, only I'm watching myself react to everything Zayn does; every slight nod, every half-smile. When the minister says the “speak now” bit, I see myself stand up abruptly. I try to come back to my body, but I don't know how to. All I can do is watch myself as I run up to the altar and cry my eyes out repeating Zayn's name and all he can do is look at me with disgust.

Suddenly I wake up and the only thing stopping me from sitting up in terror is a heavy arm laying on my chest. For a couple of seconds I'm disoriented and it takes me a while to realize that Zayn is sleeping next to me. After that, it takes a few more seconds of realization to process that Zayn and I actually did...it. I allow myself to relax under his arm and turn around to face him. He's lying face down with his head on the pillow facing me and his right arm carelessly draped over my body, as if to make sure I stay here all night.

“Where else would I go?” I whisper to him as his back rises and drops to the beat of his breathing. It's a slow, intricately-timed waltz that he doesn't realize he's dancing, but I enjoy it so much. The side of his face that I can see is partially illuminated by the light radiating from the bottom of my bedroom door.

I close my eyes, but not because I intend on sleeping, but because I want to experience all of last night's events anew. I want to feel every touch and taste every kiss as if it were happening again. Years and years of dreaming about what this day would be like couldn't have prepared me for it, no matter how many times I imagined it. Feeling Zayn's urgency to have me, his hunger for my lips, everything he did validated my feelings for him in every way I ever could have wished and for once in years I didn't feel so pathetic for loving someone who could never love me back.

Goosebumps spread all over my body at the thought of his gentle touch as it turned aggressive and I have to open my eyes to get a grip on myself. I didn't realize my breathing had gone shallow so when I open my eyes there's black holes everywhere and it takes a while for Zayn's face to reappear clearly in my line of vision. He's none the wiser, just breathing in and out as if he was having a dreamless sleep. I want to stay in bed next to him for as long as I can, possibly well into the afternoon. I don't know what time it is and the sky outside my closed blinds gives me no indication, which could help my plight to keep Zayn in bed for as long as possible.

The best memory from last night out of the myriad I have to choose from would have to be the way Zayn finally opened up to me. He finally showed me his fear, his apprehensiveness, his indecision. Not that I didn't see it before, but that's just a testament to how much I know him rather than how much he trusts me, but now he finally brought his guard down and let me see it. He trusted me wholeheartedly and it felt so good.

Zayn tosses around a bit and I go into a state of panic. I know that as soon as he wakes up and opens the blinds, the harsh light of reality will shine a hideous light on what we did yesterday. I know he won't see it through the rose-colored glasses I subscribe to when it concerns Zayn. He will view last night as a sin, when I view it as a necessary indulgence. It would be stupid of me to believe that he will stay in bed with me and decide to go to London a day late, just so he can spend it with me. I'm not that naïve. As soon as Zayn settles down, now lying down on his side, my heart rate returns to normal.