THE FIRST THING I HEARD when I woke up, was the crackling of burning logs. Through my closed eyelids, I could see a bright light dancing around the room and I groaned as I struggled to  open my tired eyes. When I finally did manage to open them, a gasped escaped from my lips as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings. I knew for a fact that I wasn't in my own home, and the thought frightened me. It frightened me so much, that I sat bolt upright from where I had been lying, immediately trying to think of a way to get home.

However, as soon as I had sat up, I was being pushed back down again and I jumped when a dark shadow appeared above me. I was about to scream out for help, but then I recognized the person above me, his eyes a dead giveaway, and I relaxed slightly. Zayn was sitting in front of me on the edge of an old looking coffee table, one of his large, cold hands resting on my shoulder as he gently pushed me down once again.

"Where am I?" was the first thing that I asked, my voice slightly croaky from not being used for a little while. I cleared my throat  looked over at Zayn who smiled sheepishly at me.

"My house." he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Zayn's house? I thought. Twenty-four? I took the time to have a good look around the living room that we were sat in; the walls were painted a pale cream colour, enlarging the rather small looking room, and paintings framed in old carved mahogany were placed neatly around the room. Next to the fireplace, were two extremely large book cases, both full of old looking, hard back books, ranging from all shapes and sizes, colours and genres. Placed on the coffee table and any other free spaces in the room, were pieces of paper with multiple sketches on them.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, confused. "You could have taken me home."

Zayn chuckled. "I don't think your parents would have approved of me carrying their sleeping daughter up to their doorstep."

I bit my lip and nodded - he was right. If my parents found me asleep in somebody's arms, they would have been furious at the both of us. I tried to sit up once again, to get a better look at what was behind Zayn, but he gently pushed me down again, and that's when I felt the weight of something on my stomach. I pulled back the knitted quilt that had been draped over me, and looked down at my stomach where a hot water bottle had been placed. I shot Zayn a questioning look and he smiled back at me.

"You did say that you had an upset stomach at the cinema so when you fell asleep in my car, I just left you sleeping because I didn't want to disturb you. Then I brought you inside and got the bottle for you." he explained as he gestured to the rubber bottle that was just starting to sting my skin. "I've heard that hot water bottles work wonders for people with sore stomachs." he finished and I nodded slowly before I pulled the quilt back over me, encasing my shivering body with warmth once again.

"Well, thank you Zayn - for everything, but I really should be getting home now." I said as I dug my hand into my jeans pocket and pulled my phone out. I unlocked the device and my eyes widened when I saw that it was just after eleven. Shit, I thought. My parents were going to kill me.

"No, you should rest." Zayn protested as I made another attempt to sit up. "You still look really pale."

I was about to argue back, but I already knew that it wouldn't make much of a difference. My parents were probably worried sick about me, and Marielle . . . Oh, God. Marielle! I had just left her at the cinema by herself! How was I supposed to explain to her that Zayn had magically appeared and took me home after finding out I had an icky tummy? She was going to kill me. I'd also left all of my shopping bags in the cinema with her. Great.

"I suppose, I could stay for a few minutes." I mumbled as I placed my hands over the warm water bottle, sighing at the warmth it provided.

"Laura." Zayn said, inching closer to me. I held my breath as I felt his breath on my face. "You stay here as long as it takes for you to feel better." he said and I slowly nodded, taken aback by his generosity. Not everyone would let someone stay at their place to get better.

"O-OK." I stammered and he chuckled quietly before standing from his perch on the table. He towered over me as he stood, and I felt small in comparison with him. I already knew that I was small in height, and that he was pretty tall, so decided to leave it alone.

"I've got some tea boiling in the kitchen." he said to me, smiling. Before I could say anything, he turned and started to make his way out of the room, towards what I presumed was the kitchen. "What do you take?" he asked.

"Two sugars and milk, please." I answered and he nodded before he pushed open the door at the end of the room and disappeared from my sight. I let out a sigh as the tension in the room lifted like a veil. Sitting with Zayn all alone was sort of unnerving. The way he had been looking at me rather frightening as well.

I slowly stood from my place on the couch, letting the water bottle slip from my body and onto the plush cushions beneath me. I still clung to the quilt though, the warmth making me feel more comfortable about being in someone else's home.

I slowly made my way over to the bookcases, my eyes scanning every title on every spine, fascination taking over by the second. There were classic tales such as The Three Musketeers, Moby Dick and even Little Women sitting on the shelves and a smile came to my lips as I read through each and every book title. I was surprised that Zayn collected such stories, I had never imagined him to be a collector of any sort.

My attention was soon grabbed by a few of the drawing scattered around the room, one in particular catching my gaze. I lifted the paper up from where it sat, on the mantle piece above the fire, my eyes scanning over every detail the pencil had made while the drawing had been created.

"It's me." I whispered to myself as I looked down at the mirror image sketch of myself. It was just as good as the one that lay on my bedside table at home, only this one had obviously taken much longer than the time we had in a double Art lesson at school. Every detail was defined to perfection, the smudges creating shadows under my chin, in my hair and on my face where it was needed. I was so caught up in the amazing drawing, that I didn't hear the kitchen door open or Zayn step back into the room.

"What are you doing?" Zayn asked all of a sudden and I jumped when I heard his voice. I turned around to face him, and I noticed that he had two steaming cups of tea in his hands, a confused expression on his face. I dropped the drawing back onto the mantle piece and pulled the quilt tighter around me.

Zayn's eyes followed my every move and I gulped as a smirk appeared on his lips. I'd been caught admiring his work. I bet he thought that I was a nosy parker after he'd seen me poking around through his things. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as his eyes met mine once again.

"I'm sorry." I blurted out all of a sudden but his grin remained in place. "I was just curious and wanted to have a look." I admitted and Zayn raised an eyebrow at me. Carefully, he placed the two cups on the coffee table and slowly made his way over to me. It looked almost as if he were gliding towards me.

"Laura, have you ever heard of the phrase, 'Curiosity killed the cat'?" he asked me, his head tilted to the side as he waited for me to answer. With my voice suddenly stuck in my throat, I gave him a small nod as he came to a halt in front of me, his breath hitting my face.

"Then you should know to keep your curiosity under control." he whispered in my ear and I shivered, even with the warm quilt around my shoulders and the fire burning brightly. His breath hit my neck all of a sudden and I froze as his lips brushed against my ear. He was so close to me, and I could feel the coolness of his skin radiating from him through the material between us. When he pulled away, all he did was smirk while I stood frozen to the spot, unsure what to do.

"C'mon." he chuckled, his hands raised. He caught the two dangling corners of the quilt and pulled me forwards while he walked backwards. He led me back over to the couch again and waited for me to sit down before he politely handed me a scorching cup of tea. He watched me as I took a sip of the steamy brown liquid, and he copied my actions, bringing the cup to his lips, his eyes glued to me over the rim.

I took a few more sips of the hot brew, averting my gaze anywhere but at Zayn. His stare was almost intimidating, frightening even. I looked away, and yet, I could still feel his eyes on me, watching my every move. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, tugging at a loose thread on the quilt. I had to end the silence, or it was going to kill me eventually.

"Why have you got another drawing of me?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. Zayn seemed to be pleased that I had been the one to break the silence and he gently placed his cup on the coffee table before he leaned forward in this chair and looked me in the eye. He scratched the back of his head, almost in an awkward kind of way and when he looked back around at me, he chuckled quietly.

"Well, there are a few reasons actually." he started and I raised an eyebrow at him. There was more than one reason?

"Go on." I urged and he grinned at me.

"One, because you're amazing to draw. I like trying to draw your eyes." he said and I blushed as he smiled at me. "They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, so they are always the most fun to draw."

I cleared my throat, awkwardly. "And . . . the other reasons?"

"Well, reason." he said and I bit my lip and nodded as he clasped his hands together in front of him. "The other reason, Laura . . . is that I like you. I like you a lot."

If my cheeks had turned pink before, I was almost positive that they had turned to blood red now. I was lost for words, struggling to think of anything smart to say in reply, so I said the first thing that came to mind. Something that would make the situation . . . a little less awkward.

"Oh."

Nailed it.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Zayn asked all of a sudden, leaning further forward in his chair, towards me. He placed his hand over mine, still holding the warm cup and I looked up into his eyes. He genuinely looked concerned about me and I took a deep breath before I answered him.

"Nothing." I said honestly. "It's just that . . . guys never seem to like me a lot."

I wasn't lying when I spoke - it was true. Every single word of it was. No guy had ever shown an interest in me the way Zayn had. He had been my first kiss, for goodness sake! Only Liam and Niall were my closest guy friends, others just turned their noses up at me as if I had some sort of disease. Nicer ones, would just ignore me and continue with whatever they were doing to start with.

"Why not?" Zayn asked, his dark eyes still full of concern and curiosity.

I sighed again and looked down at my half empty cup. "I honestly have no idea. I've never done anything to them. I guess I'm just not very appealing compared to some other girls out there." I finished with a small shrug, my eyes still on the cup.

I felt Zayn's hand tighten around mine and I looked up at him again, his eyes meeting my own.

"You want to know a little secret?" he asked me and I leaned forward slightly as I nodded. "You are . . . very appealing to me."

I chuckled nervously as his fingers tapped my own, and a small smile crept onto my lips. After seeing my reaction, Zayn sat back in his chair and picked up his mug once again, bringing it to his lips. I looked down at my own cup and brought it up to my mouth, gulping the remaining liquid down before I set it, completely empty, on the table in front of me.

As another silence filled the room, I took the opportunity to have another look around the living room. The couch I was sat on, was made of fine black leather, the  cushions a soft red silky material. For twenty years old, he had good style, I had to admit. The old effect made the room look really fancy - antique even.

"Laura?" Zayn asked all of a sudden and I looked back around at him, and there was a smile etched on his face. "Would you like a tour of the house?" he finished and I chuckled.

"You're taking my place as tour guide?" I asked, smiling and he just grinned at me.

"Well, you're only my guide for when we're in school. This isn't school, is it?" he said as he stood up and held his hand out towards me. I stared at it for a few seconds before I finally gave in and slid my own hand into his. I let the quilt fall from my shoulders and into a pile on the leather couch.

"I've always wondered what it looked like inside this house." I muttered as Zayn led me through to another room.

He chuckled. "What did you think it would be like?"

"Well, me and the girls would always come up with silly stories about ghosts, vampires and witches living in here but only because it was always so quiet and empty." I said with a shrug and Zayn's hand tightened around my own slightly. I frowned, wondering if it had been something I had said. Was it?

"Hm, well you never know what could  have lived in this house." he said, his voice deep.

"Yeah, I suppose." I said with a shrug and Zayn chuckled again before he led me into the kitchen. He flicked on the light and the room came into view. It was the most modern thing I had seen in the house so far - shiny granite work tops, a small island in the middle of the floor and silvery cutlery lying here and there along the worktops.

"The kitchen as you can clearly see." Zayn said, gesturing to the room in front of us. I nodded before the light was switched off again and I was being pulled back towards the living room. As we walked through the door, a slight draft hit me in the back of the neck and I shivered as Zayn pointed to the left, towards a small wooden door.

"Cupboard." he said and I nodded before he started to pull me up the stairs. The nearer the top we got, the darker it became and I couldn't help but feel slightly frightened by the darkness. Zayn, however, didn't seem to mind, and continued to tug me upwards, towards the top floor.

A light was switched on and I let out a relieved sigh. Zayn chuckled at that and opened the first door on our right. Inside, was the bathroom. In the corner, was a shower and in the opposite corner was a large bathtub, that looked big enough for four people. A large mirror sat on the wall to the left and the round blue rug in the middle of the room was covered in a swirly pattern.

For a bathroom, it was very impressive.

"This," I said looking around, "is what you call a bathroom."

Zayn laughed and closed the door, before leading me towards another room on the opposite side of the hallway. Inside, with the light switched off, it looked almost like a library, but when Zayn flipped on the switch, it turned out to be more of a study. There were several desks pushed up against the walls with objects such as books, pieces of paper and  writing utensils on top. There were a few bookcases and three easels with canvases on them, set up in the far corner of the room. A small box stood next to the easels, and paint brushes stuck out of the top.

"This is where I like to spend my time." Zayn said as he walked into the room, looking around with his hands shoved into his pockets. He walked over to one of the desks and piled the stray pieces of paper into a pile, setting them aside.

Hesitantly, I followed after him, not sure if I were invading his personal space or not. I looked around as I walked further into the room, my eyes instantly wandering towards the bookcases. I saw a number of Shakespeare plays on the shelves and several books by Charles Dickens and Stephen King.

"You like your books." I commented and I heard Zayn hum in agreement from the other side of the room.

"Yeah. Many have been passed down through the family, so they're worth a lot of money now." he said as he looked over at where I was standing. "Collecting is also something I love to do when it comes to books."

"Yeah." I said, grinning. "I do that sometimes." I admitted and I heard Zayn chuckled quietly again. I turned around to look at what he had occupied himself with. He was looking over at the paintings that sat on the easels in the corner of the room. There was a different kind painting on each one, but they weren't quite completed yet.

"Those are amazing." I said, gesturing to the half finished paintings. Zayn smiled around at me before he turned and nodded over to the door. We left the room, closing the door behind us before Zayn slung his arm over my shoulders and pulled me into his side. I froze under his touch and he slowly started to pull me along with him again. I eventually eased my frozen state and calmed under his arm.

"This," he said, laying his hand on a silver door knob in front of us. "Is the master bedroom."

As I walked into the room, I couldn't help but look around in awe - the room was massive for a bedroom. Everything looked old fashioned. Everything from the four poster bed, to the amazingly detailed carvings in the wardrobe door, and frame around the large mirror. The small antique tables dotted around the room were beautifully carved to perfection, even the intricate design on the headboard of the bed.

"There are two bedrooms in the house," I heard Zayn say from behind me. "but the other one is still full of boxes that I need to unpack."

"This house is amazing." I said as I walked further into the room, my fingers tracing along the carved patterns in one of the large bed posts. My eyes travelled over to the large window on the far wall and I walked over to it, pulling the curtains back to peek outside. Right across the street, stood my home. It looked different from inside Zayn's house, and I looked down, beside the house at the entrance to the woods.

I thought back to the time when Zayn had told me that it was only the clearing he was able to see from his window, and he was right - you couldn't see any further than the first row of evergreens.

I looked back over at the house and caught a glimpse of my bedroom window and the small balcony outside it, directly in front of Zayn's. Next to my window, was Ian's room and I could see his figure behind the curtains, playing on his X-box frantically, as if his life depended on it. I rolled my eyes and closed the curtain again. I looked down at the table in front of me, under the window and I recognised the green folder on the desk as a Biology folder.

"You been forgetting to do your homework?" I asked as I picked up the folder. I heard Zayn moving around behind me and I looked over my shoulder at him. He was leaning against the bedpost, his fingers tracing the shapes carved into the wood, a smirk on his face.

"Not exactly." he said before he pushed himself up and made his way over to me. I spun around to face him, dropping the folder back onto the table. I shivered when Zayn came to a stop right in front of me, and I could feel his breath on my face. He smelled fresh, the scent of grass and soap hitting my nostrils. Before I could attempt to move away from him, he placed his hands onto the desk, either side of my waist, trapping me in front of him. My nerves were spiralling out of control and I took a deep breath as my gaze locked with Zayn's.

"How's your stomach feeling now?" he asked, nodding towards my lower abdomen.

"Better." I said as I rubbed my tummy gently, smiling up at Zayn. He returned it with one of his own before he leaned down, closer towards me. I held my breath, trying to stay completely still as he neared me.

"And how would you feel . . . if I tried to kiss you again?" he whispered to me, his head dipping to the crook of my neck. I froze as I felt his nose trail up the side of my jaw, his stubble tickling my skin.

"I-I er, I'm not too sure if . . . I don't really know and . . ." I realised that I was stammering complete nonsense and I gave in with a small shrug. How did I feel about him wanting to kiss me again? I had no idea, to be honest. I mean, I had liked it the first time, it had made me feel special. It had made me feel wanted in a way.

Before I could say anything else and make myself look more like a fool, Zayn brought his hand up to cup my cheek and he pulled away from the side of my neck, his eyes meeting mine. He traced the shape of my lips with this thumb as I trembled with nerves in front of him.

"Let's see . . . if I can help you make up your mind." he whispered down to me, a smile tugging at his lips. I held my breath as he leaned down again, tilting his head to the side before his lips met mine. 

Once again, I found myself struggling on how to react - last time I had just copied his actions, moving my lips against his, but this time, I was lost. My mind had gone completely blank. Therefore, I let Zayn do the work again, kissing me passionately the way that he wanted to. I parted my lips to give him more access and I squealed when I felt his tongue invade my mouth. I pulled away in shock.

"Sorry!" I gasped when Zayn looked down at me in confusion. I began to panic, thinking I'd ruined the moment with my stupidity, so I decided to blurt out the truth. "I don't know how to kiss back. I'm so sorry, it's just that . . . you were the first guy I've ever kissed and I don't know what to do an-"

"Laura, calm down." Zayn chuckled as he pushed a stray hair that had escaped from my pony tail, out of my eyes. "I was your first kiss?"

I nodded slowly. "Yes. My first real one, anyway..."

"Seriously?!" he said, sounding astonished, his eyes wide.

"Yeah." I replied again and his eyes widened before he laughed quietly. 

"Then I have the pleasure of teaching you." he laughed and I bit my lip at the thought. Zayn was going to teach me how to kiss him back? This wasn't going to be awkward at all.

"Just do what I do. You seemed OK the other night when I kissed you." he said and I blushed once again. "Just copy what I do. Open your mouth a little and move your lips with mine. Just do what feels right for you." he whispered and before I could reply, his mouth was on mine again. I was stunned at first, so it took me a while to remember what he had just told me to do. Feeling slightly flustered, I began to copy his actions, moving my lips with his, keeping my mouth slightly open like he had said.

I was a little stunned when Zayn wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up against him, so that there was no space between us. However, the sudden movement, didn't stop me from kissing him back. When I felt Zayn's arms tighten around me, I couldn't help myself from wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. I heard him moan from the back of his throat and I took it as praise, thinking it was a sign that I was doing something right.

I certainly was. Not a second later, Zayn unwrapped his arms from around my waist and slid his hands down, over my backside to my thighs. He squeezed them gently, indicating for me to jump, and I did, wrapping my legs around his waist as he walked us backwards towards the desk beneath the window. He placed me on top of the desk, his hands roaming my sides once again.

I was panting, just like he was, our breathing irregular as we continued to kiss each other almost in a desperate sort of way. In all honesty, I no longer cared that Zayn was like a stranger to me - I had liked him as a friend, we had similar interests and he liked me back. I was glad that we were kissing, and nothing would change that.

I pulled away, still panting, trying to regain my breath. Zayn clung to me almost like a limpet, his arms wrapped securely around me, his chin resting on my shoulder. I ran a hand through his dark, hair loving the way it tickled my palm. I was positive that I heard him humming as I did so.

"Y-you said kiss, not snog." I mumbled, trying to think of what else I could have said to break the silence. Nothing came to mind, so I was left with that. I heard Zayn chuckle and he pulled back to look at me through his long eyelashes, a grin plastered on his face.

"Well . . . maybe I changed my mind." he said, leaning forward to kiss the tip of my nose. I bit my lip to stop myself from saying something that I would probably regret, and I let my hand slide from his hair and rest on his shoulder, a small smile on my lips. Still feeling slightly flustered, I tucked my hair behind my ear which earned another amused chuckle from Zayn.

"I love it when you do that." he said before he leaned forward and kissed my lips once again. Remembering what he had told me before, I relaxed and started to kiss him back.