D Is for Delightful

A bored, dead-eyed expression laid on my face as I tried to figure out how to make my brain sleep while still keeping my eyes open and sitting up straight, “God damn it, Delilah if you do not keep your head tilted I am going to lose it,” The makeup artist snapped, giving me his fifth warning about my nodding off.

The rest of the girls were out shooting, but my big scene with one of the boys had been pushed back to be filmed last, filling me with anticipation and forcing me to keep my ass in this uncomfortable chair for the past thirty minutes, “It’s only going to be like fifteen seconds, the makeup looks fine,” I rolled my eyes, snapping back at him and earning a glare through the mirror, “I really need a cigarette,” I muttered, yawning again and attempting to sit up straight.

“Honey, have you seen the dark bags under your eyes?” He asked, placing a hand on his hip and giving me a look of mock-concern, “I don’t think you need any more cigarettes.” He said, grabbing the hairspray and spraying a generous amount over my hair that was pinned to my head in rollers.

“Paul, there is so much concealer caked on my face that I look like Courtney Love.”

He set his makeup brush down, putting a hand on his hip and using his other to emphasize as he spoke, “You know what bitch, you are getting paid to sit here, keep your mouth shut and look pretty.” His tone was just snappy as mine was, “If you are just going to give me attitude the whole time then I’m sure we can find some other pretty face who would be thrilled to be in the spot your sitting.”

I opened my mouth to retaliate but a smooth male voice came first, “Please don’t do that,” He walked in, wearing tight leather pants and a plain white t-shirt, “We really don’t have time to find another girl,” his hair was done in its usual fashion except for the blonde chunk he had recently been sporting. Yes, I was very aware of who the boys involved in the video shoot today were, and I had arguably the sexiest one of them standing five feet away from me. 


I smiled up at him, pinpointing my gaze on his, “Little Miss Thang over here is being extremely hard to work with.”

My jaw hung open as I glared at Paul, how dare he throw me under the bus like that. Zayn chuckled, “She seems pretty sweet to me.”His smile grew, “I was getting lonely watching the guys do their scenes with their beautiful girls on their arms, I needed to come find my beautiful girl.”

I smirked, watching the annoyed look on Paul’s face as Zayn Blatantly flirted with me, “Well darling, I’ve been held captive by this evil troll over here who won’t even let me take a smoke break.”

“That’s because she looks like a hag,” Paul said, not skipping a beat.

“I think she looks beautiful,” Zayn said sweetly, extending his hand out to me, “Have no fear m’lady, your prince charming is here to save you.”

I took his hand and stepped up from the chair, turning my head to give Paul an open-jawed smile, “When I get back, we’re taking this shit out of my hair,” I said in a serious tone, earning another eye roll from Paul.

I caught up to Zayn, smiling up at him as we walked through the doorway and down the hall that lead to the back smoking area. His hand lowered to pull out the pack of menthol's in his front pocket. He took out two and put them both to his lips, holding them in place as his hand moved to put the pack away and grab the black lighter that stuck out of his back pocket. He delicately lit both of them up, sliding the lighter back into his pocket and pulling one cigarette away to hand to me, “You know…”—Smoke wafted out of his mouth as he spoke, holding the cigarette in place like a pro before finally pausing to grasp it between his two fingers and pull it away; he blew the smoke out—“They don’t have us scheduled to shoot for another three hours…”

My eyebrow raised as I cocked my head to the side, “…And?”

He chuckled, taking another moment of silence for a few puffs, “I don’t know…” He shrugged, “It’s makin’ me really annoyed, I mean you look great, I’m ready to go, I don’t know what the problem is.” He seemed to be in his own world as he aired out his frustrations, snapping out of it as I caught his gaze, “Sorry.”

I giggled, sucking in the smoke before offering my best empathetic smile, “In all honesty, they’re probably taking so long because some of the girls are so terrible they need multiple takes.”

Zayn chuckled, “Seems like the most logical explanation. Maybe we should just leave?”

Mischief was evident in his voice as his eyes challenged me, a wide smile grew to my lips, “I’m pretty sure everyone would kill us; and I have these stupid things in my hair,” I pouted playfully, flicking my cigarette onto the ground and feeling my ego purr as he smirked.

“Don’t worry, girl, you’re rollin’ with me; nobody can say a thing.” Tossing his cigarette to the ground, he stepped closer to me, bringing his hand up to undo one of the curlers, “As for these stupid things, I think I can also help you there.”

We unraveled my hair in less than two minutes, leaving me with voluptuous curls to compliment the makeup and instantly boost my confidence up to dangerous levels. Zayn stood close to me, his eyes on mine as he inched closer, “Now you have no excuse not to run away with me.”

His voice was low, but playful, provoking me to take the final step between us. I placed one hand on his shoulder and pressed the other flat against his chest, keeping my eyes laser focused on his knowing damn well he was loving every minute of it. “We should probably go scope out what everyone else is doing first, yeah?” I asked, lightly dragging my hand down his chest.

“What’s your name?” His arms locked around my waist, pulling me into him and forcing my arms around his neck, I leaned back as much as I could and looked up at him with desire; “Just tell me your name and then we can do whatever you want.”

I let out a groan, letting my head fall limp into his chest, “But that ruins all the fun we could have had,” I said into his chest, biting onto him through his T-shirt and smirking as he let out a breath.

He moved his hand to tilt my head up, propelling me to look up at him. “You’re a bad girl, huh?” His voice was aggressive and sexy as his hand moved to lock into my hair, roughly pulling my head back, “See, I already know what you like, baby; just tell me your name.”

His face was close to mine, his eyes unmoving as I bit down onto my lower lip, earning a grunt of approval as he hungrily waited for me to speak, “If you kiss me, maybe I’ll tell you.” I caught him off guard, but not for long as the smirk returned to his lips, “It’ll be just like practice for our scene.”

“Like I said,” He murmured, his lips millimeters above mine, “Whatever you want.”

He tasted like mint and smoke. His cold, callus, fingers slid underneath my shirt, gripping onto me as he pulled me in with his kiss. His other hand left my hair and moved down to gently cup my face, he pulled away, biting down onto my lip and pausing a moment to lock our gaze.

“Name,” He demanded, pulling back as I tried to reattach our lips.

“More,” I pouted sadly, taking my hand to his cheek to guide his face to me. Our lips mushed together as I moved my hand from his face to the hem of his jeans, tucking two fingers in by his belt loop and pulling his hips into mine.

“Name,” He ordered again, narrowing his eyes briefly but choosing not to wait for a response before eagerly plopping his lips back on mine. Our tongues danced in perfect harmony—making me completely forget where I was and who I was with—all that mattered was the energy coming off of his body into mine.

I let out a yelp as his lips abruptly left mine to bite down onto my neck. He pulled away, leaving me giggling as his eyes settled on mine, “Tell me your fuckin’ name,” His words had an edge to them but were still playful.

“No. Fun.” I said in my best dominating voice, moving my head down to trail soft, wet, kisses up his neck to his jaw line, “At. All.”

Our lips were back together, tricking us into believing that we new each other well with each oncoming kiss. But that was what was so fucking hot about it. That, and the fact that this was Zayn motherfucking Malik, one of the most famous musicians in the business right now and probably my one way ticket to the top. I let out a soft moan into his mouth, bumping up the theatrics as I felt his ever-growing erection press into me, he pulled away, breathlessly.

“You’re not going to tell me are you?”

I chuckled, pressing my head against his chest, enjoying the small height advantage he had over me, “Nope. That way it’s like nothing ever happened,” I added, looking up at him with a sinister grin.

“So that was all nothing to you?”

We had now separated, taking a few steps back to make awkward eye contact that I brushed off with another cackle, “Heat of the moment, lust-filled, make out session; no big deal,” I shrugged.

He looked confused, showing that he typically didn’t get this reaction from girls he kissed. “Well, what if I called bullshit on that and said that it wasn’t nothing and that I wanted to do it again—preferably somewhere with a bed—what would you say then?”

I tried not to swoon at his buttery smooth words, “My name is Delilah.”

A cheese-ball grin spread to his lips. “Delilah?”

I nodded, “Yep,” I said, baring my teeth in a smile, “That’s me.”

“Delilah,” He said again, making me feel incredibly creeped out, but I obviously wasn’t going to let him know that. “Well, Delilah, it’s nice to officially meet you; I’m Zayn.”

His grin was straight out of a magazine as he took my hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the top, “Now that we aren’t strangers anymore, let’s get the fuck out of here—fuck the music video—we’ve always got tomorrow.”

Notes

***CHAPTER WRITTEN BY SPEEDING CARS***