When I opened my eyes, I had to squint against the bright light coming in through the open window. I was lying on my back and my hair had somehow managed to become loose of its ponytail during the night, lying in a mass of messy curls around my head. I flicked some strands out of my face before looking over to the bedside table where my phone was. It was just after nine.

I turned my head to the side to find Zayn's half of the bed was empty. I frowned. Where had he gone? That's when I heard the unmistakable sound of a pencil scratching against paper. I slowly sat up on my elbows and looked to the bottom of the bed. Zayn was sitting on top of his upright suitcase, a drawing pad sitting on his lap. He was drawing silently, his head bowed as his hand flew across the page. He looked up when I cleared my throat.

"I couldn't help but take the opportunity to draw you while you were sleeping," he said, showing me the drawing. "You looked so peaceful."

I smiled lazily at him and slowly sat up, wincing. Ow, I thought. I slowly sat upright as Zayn watched me sympathetically. He dropped his art utensils to the floor and rushed to my side, taking my hand in his.

"You're still sore," he said. It wasn't a question, it was more of a statement and I nodded as he pulled me carefully to his side, his arms wrapping around me securely.

"Is it bad?" he asked.

"Kind of," I groaned as I shifted around a little.

Zayn tucked a strand of hair out of my face. "I'm gonna try something."

I looked up at him curiously as he brought his wrist in front of us. He raised his arm until he could bite into his skin, holding it out in front of me.

"I'll be fine," I started to protest but I felt saw him shake his head.

"Try it. There's no guarantee it will work because it's just a pain, not a wound," he held his wrist closer to me and I let out a sigh in defeat before wrapping my smaller hands around his and bringing the wound closer to my mouth. I closed my lips over the puncture wounds and sucked gently, the strange taste of his blood hitting my taste buds. "Any better?"

I pulled my mouth away and shuffled to the edge of the bed before standing up slowly, holding the duvet securely against my body. The dull aching between my thighs wasn't as painful as it had been, and I nodded over to Zayn who smiled. I looked down at his wrist to see the wound seal itself, only a few drops of blood remaining on his skin. I shuffled back over to the bed and lay down, adjusting the duvet so it covered the both of us.

Zayn leaned down to touch his forehead against mine, his breath fanning over my face. I cringed ever so slightly. "Morning breath."

Zayn laughed and kissed my nose. "Get used to it." Then his lips found mine in a soft and gentle kiss. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "I got you something."

"Oh?" I muttered, still half sleepy. He nodded and reached over to the bedside table. Only then did I notice the small brown package. He opened it up for me and I peered inside at the croissants.

"Breakfast in bed," he announced. I thanked him, took one of the two croissants and began nibbling on it, Zayn doing the same. "Are you alright?" he asked after a few moments in silence.

I nodded once again. "Just exhausted," I admitted and Zayn squeezed my hand reassuringly. We ate in silence, my head leaning against his shoulder and my eyes shut. It was ridiculous how tired I was.

Zayn cleared his throat. "How did you find last night?"

Last night. Words couldn't begin to describe how last night had been. Painful, pleasurable, meaningful, scary, beautiful - didn't even begin to cover it. The simple knowledge that we'd had sex brought a small smile to my face. I'd never imagined losing my virginity at seventeen, more like my twenties.

"Good," I answered, looking up into his eyes. "Mind blowing."

He laughed quietly and kissed my cheek. "You did good for a virgin."

I slapped his arm gently before stuffing the rest of the croissant into my mouth and sitting up. "Not anymore," I told him with a brow raised and he just grinned slyly at me before leaning down to kiss my bare shoulder. I closed my eyes, relishing in the soft caress of his mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his stubble scratching against my skin.

"Even with all of the stretch marks and blemishes?" I questioned, very much aware of the imperfections littering my body. Zayn's hands found mine and he moved round so that he was sitting behind me, his lips still at my shoulder.

He leaned up and whispered in my ear. "Beautiful."

I rolled my head back to rest against his shoulder, my eyes closed as his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me up against his front. That's when I remembered Kate mentioning that I'd be the second of us to lose their virginity. Unless Harry and Marielle had been busy over the last week...

"What time do we have to be out of the hotel?" I asked and I felt Zayn shrug.

"Ten or eleven I think," he murmured against me and I shuddered. He pulled away suddenly and picked up the brown bag that had been squished between the folds of the duvet. He reached over to the drawer on the bedside table and I saw him extract something small within and shove it inside the bag. I looked up at him curiously. "I don't think the hotel staff would appreciate finding a used condom in their bin."

I flushed and nodded before watching him leave the room, giving me time to freshen myself up before leaving. I peered over the side of the bed to find the discarded lingerie and my onesie from last night. I pulled my onesie on and quickly set about packing my things away, squashing all of my clothing and gifts for friends and family inside. I checked the time and quickly ran into the bathroom for a shower, cringing ever so slightly with every footstep I took.

I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes as the warm water glided down over my body, waking me up from my still-sleepy state. I squeezed some shower gel into my palm before washing over my skin, remembering the way Zayn's hands had felt on me the night before. Gentle and soft. I found myself longing to feel his hands on me once again, but I shook my head, clearing it of the fantasy my imagination had conjured.

I quickly blow-dried my hair and slipped on the last clean dress I had brought with me before I double checked I had all of my clothing and presents packed away. Once I was sure very thing was in order, I tugged my suitcase through to the living room area, where I saw Zayn sitting with his sketch pad once again, outside on the balcony. I glanced over his shoulder to see his drawing of the Eiffel Tower and I smiled up at the view, knowing it would be a  little while before I ever saw it again.

"It's beautiful," I told him, leaning my chin on his shoulder. He smiled sideways at me before looking up to stare at the scenery before us. I let out a sigh, relishing in the remaining moments of being in Paris with Zayn.

"Thank you," he muttered after a few more pencil strokes, his tongue poking through between his teeth as he worked. My mind was cast back to the time I had seen him concentrating hard on a painting. The way  he had been so involved and intricate with his brush strokes had baffled me, making me wonder how something as dangerous and terrifying as a vampire could be so fixated with something as beautiful as a painting.

"You never did tell me how you became so great at art," I said and he chuckled quietly.

"I've had many years to practice, Laura. I studied art in college and such many times over the years. Harry's into art too, so he would always tell me about famous artists and their works."

"Is Harry much of an artist?" I asked.

Zayn shrugged. "I've never seen his artwork, actually. I think he's more into looking at art than creating it."

"Ah," I said. "So you're the artist and Harry's the reader."

"Yeah, pretty much," Zayn said, nodding. He turned to face me, a small smile on his face. "Guess who I bumped into this morning?"

"Who?"

"Jane and Will again," he said. "They were in the same cafe I went into to get breakfast. They said it was great meeting you and they think you're a lovely, beautiful girl."

I grinned awkwardly. "They're an interesting couple, certainly."

Zayn nodded before looking down at his phone. "We need to leave soon," he informed me and I pouted.

"Urgh, I wish we could just stay here forever," I complained, looking back out over the city. The smell of delicious foods wafted up from the streets below and the sound of birds chirping on the roof could be heard.

Zayn wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against him for a hug. "Me too."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck. He was wearing an all black outfit with the exception of his leather jacket, the brown making his bright eyes stand out even more. Only when Zayn cleared his throat did I realize I'd been looking into his eyes for a tad too long.

"Sorry," I mumbled, hiding my face into the crook of his neck once again.

"It's OK," he whispered, kissing the top of my head. "It's hard not to gaze at me."

"Cocky," I giggled as his hands roamed my sides.

"Indeed. We should maybe get a move on."

I nodded and pulled away from him, instantly longing to feel his arms holding me securely once again. Once upon a time, I had been afraid to even have him looking at me; now I craved his touch so much that it almost hurt. Knowing that it was nothing to do with his Persuasion - like it had been back when he had forced me to act like his girlfriend - and that I actually had genuine feelings for him, brought a smile to my face.

I was still debating whether or not it was true love. I loved Zayn, I did. But was it a love for someone more than a friend ... a boyfriend? I shook my head, frustrating with my confusion and followed Zayn through into the living room. I shut the balcony door behind us and turned to find Zayn pulling the suitcases towards the door.

"We have about half an hour before we need to leave," he told me, dropping the handles and turning to face me with a small smile on his face. His hands reached out towards me and I allowed him to tug me closer until I was standing in the circle of his arms. He grinned down at me as I reached up to trace the shape of his lips. He was truly beautiful, despite his dangerous nature and thirst for blood. His eyes always managed to hold mine captive, almost as if he were constantly trying to Persuade me.

It was a moment like that, that I found myself in when Zayn reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing gently against my cheek. He leaned forward and kissed me, his eyes closing and hand around my waist tightening.

"What do you want to do while we wait?" I asked quietly against his mouth. He stood back, looking a little disappointed when I pulled away.

He raised a brow, thinking for a moment. "Well, we could always go for round two...?" He pulled me closer once again, his head nudging mine to the side to expose my neck to his dark eyes. "If you know what I mean," he added.

Only then, with my head tilted to the side, did I remember that he still hadn't fed. I shook my head. "You need to feed."

"Always putting other people's needs before your own, Laura," he stated, shaking his head. "I'll be alright. I want to wait until we get home - you'll still be exhausted."

I grinned against the side of his neck, reaching up to wrap my arms around him. "You did wear me out last night."

He chuckled quietly into my ear, his lips brushing against my lobe. "You could always pleasure me like I pleasured you last night? You seem fairly experienced with your hands, so I imagine your mouth will be just as great."

"Zayn," I complained, feeling my cheeks flush as an imagine of him moaning uncontrollably beneath me came to mind. The idea was intriguing but I was too tired to do anything as intimate straight after a very passionate night. "Another time," I eventually managed to say.

Zayn pulled away and pursed his lips. "So is that a maybe?"

I slapped his arm gently and shook my head, laughing at his persistence.

We sat beside each other on the couch, Zayn's arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to his side. We spoke about France back in 1945, when all the struggles with the War was going on, Zayn complaining about people's blood tasting like liquor.

"It was a stressful time for everyone," he told me and I just laughed.

"Well, the War did split families and force people into rationing," I said and he nodded.

"I was actually going to join the army with Harry and Louis. We thought it would be great to do something good with our lives, for our country, but I was obviously going mad with my killing instincts then... I  knew I'd end up killing troops and ruining everything. We thought better and didn't bother."

"You would have been great soldiers," I laughed and he raised a brow.

"Would you still want me in uniform?" he questioned and I nodded.

"I'll want you in whatever you wear," I told him and he checked his phone quickly. 

"What if I were to wear nothing?"

"Shut up," I scolded, pulling him up to his feet. He groaned as he stretched, his bones clicking faintly. We grasped the handles of our suitcases and left the hotel room, my eyes trailing over the interior before us. I'd miss staying there every night, with the Eiffel Tower just a look away. Zayn noticed my saddened expression and kissed the top of my head gently as he pulled the door shut.

"Wait," I said suddenly, pushing the door open and running though to the bedroom. My eyes scanned over the bedside tables, a glint of silver catching my eye. I started forward and grabbed my necklace from the surface. I found Zayn standing in the doorway with a confused expression on his face. "Necklace," I told him and he nodded.

I clipped it into place and we turned to leave once again. Once the door was locked, Zayn and I tugged our suitcases and bags towards the lift, waiting for the doors to open. We stepped inside, past a young couple staring into each others' eyes lovingly. The man mumbled a quick 'excuse us' before they were standing outside their room.

Zayn and I exchanged a look before we stepped into the elevator, laughing quietly as the doors closed.

"I wonder if that's how we looked entering the building?" I pondered and Zayn shrugged.

"We looked hotter," he said and I just laughed. The doors opened and we trudged out, through the hotel doors, waving goodbye to the lady sitting behind the counter.

"Merci!" I called as we left the building. "Are we getting a taxi?"

Zayn nodded. "It's gonna be here in five," he informed me. When the taxi did arrive, we quickly dumped our suitcases and such in the boot before jumping into the backseats of the vehicle. Zayn held my hand tightly as he told the driver to head towards the airport. I watched as we drove away from the hotel, my eyes scanning all the way to the top of the building where I knew the garden terrace was.

Once getting out of the taxi and to the airport, we sat patiently waiting for the flighty, my fingers playing with Zayn's absentmindedly.

"So are you still shy about the idea of sex?" Zayn asked suddenly and my eyes widened, very well aware that we were surrounded by people.

"Zayn, shut up," I hissed and he just chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

When we eventually managed to board the plane and get our seats, I let out a relieved sigh. Chatter filled the air as we sat waiting to take off. I turned to look at Zayn as he fished around inside his bag. I watched as he pulled out his camera and switched it on. He turned the screen towards me so I could see the photos we had taken during the week. I smiled at the photos of us standing in front of the Eiffel Tower and posing in the streets.

Just then the air hostess began giving instructions in case of an emergency. My hand instantly flew to find Zayn's, my stomach churning after realizing we'd be up and lying in a few moments. Zayn only chuckled as my nails bit into his skin.

"You really have to get over this fear of heights," he said, grinning over at me.

"Easier said than done," I snapped as the plane began to roll down the runway. I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them again when feeling Zayn's hand rest on my knee. Not in a sexual sort of way, but a comforting way.

"Look here," he told me and  I opened my eyes to find his eyes staring back at me. He waved the camera back and forth in his lap to get my attention and I lowered my gaze to the screen. "Look through these with me, and you should be fine," he told me, taking my hand in his.

I obeyed and looked as he skimmed through the photographs. There were some of us in cafes, outside the Musée du Louvre and even at the beach. I couldn't recall him taking many of the photos, but I didn't question him. They were great photos, all of them with either one of us or a spectacular view in it. Zayn clicked to the next photo and my eyes widened.

"Zayn, that's creepy," I told him as I looked at my sleeping self.

"What?" he gasped. "It's a selfie and you just happened to by lying up beside me at the time."

"Zayn, all I can see is your arm," I told him and he just laughed before skipping ahead.

"It's a beautiful photo nonetheless," he argued. "It's your called ID."

"Urgh," I complained. "You're impossible."

"When we get back to London, do you fancy going for something to eat?" Zayn asked.

I nodded, knowing that I'd most likely be starving when we landed. London was a great place for restaurants, though I doubted any would even begin to compare to where Zayn and I had ate while in France.

"Thank you, Zayn," I told him. "For this. For everything."

"Don't thank me for everything, Laura. You know very well that not everything I've done has been for the good," he said, leaning his head on my shoulder. I dropped my head on top of his and squeezed his hand carefully.

"You've managed to make amends," I told him. "Others would normally run from the consequences of their actions."

"I guess they would."

 I smiled and closed my eyes as Zayn continued to flick through the pictures.

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Kind of a filler chapter again, I'm sorry! But things get scary in the next chapter... I hope you all like the ending of this story when it arrives. I cried a little while planning it out mwahaha

Thank you for your lovely comments and votes, I love you all!! :)

My college lecturer is called Niall btw. I'm not even joking. Today, he was sitting telling us about photography and I happened to notice the name on his bottle of Coke. Liam. Yes. 

Cazza

P.S. I'm planning to update next Friday or Saturday?