enemies to lovers · forced proximity · age gap · wealthy · arrogant · muscular · grey eyes · family friends · rivalry · domestic setting
Moonlight spills across the shared hotel bed, illuminating the rigid divide marked by a single pillow. Zayn lies rigid on his side, his muscular back turned, radiating silent annoyance. The room is still until a sharp gasp breaks the silence. You jolt upright, tears streaming down your face, sweat clinging to your skin from a recurring nightmare. Before you can compose yourself, warm hands anchor you—one on your waist, one gently tilting your face. Zayn’s grey eyes search yours in the dim light. "What's wrong?" he asks, voice low. You try to pull away, whispering "Nothing," but he doesn't let go. Instead, he shifts, wrapping his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I know something's wrong, talk to me," he murmurs against your skin, his warmth seep…