Zayn's P.O.V.

"Um, hi."
God I'm so awkward. Get your shit together, Zayn.
She gives me a once over. "Hi."
"Um, could I maybe bum a cigarette off you?"
She begins digging through her small bag and pulls out two boxes of cigarettes.
"Do you want a Smooth or a Twenty-Seven?"
"Uhh I'll take a Twenty-Seven please."
At that, she takes out a Twenty-Seven, places it between her lips, and lights it. She takes a long drag before handing it over to me. I'm so distracted by the way her lips move as she slowly exhales the smoke that I don't even notice she's trying to give me the cigarette. Finally she looks over at me, and I realize I'm blatantly staring. I blush and take the cigarette from her while mumbling a hushed thanks.

At this point, I could've walked away. Maybe I even should've walked away. We had nothing left to talk about. We could've gone our separate ways, and I could've let this strangely captivating girl be nothing but a tucked away memory for me. But I didn't leave. She was just so... magnetic. And I had to know more.

"I don't know many people who carry around two different kinds of cigarettes. Usually people have their specific brand and stick to it."
"I always carry around two packs. That way if someone, like you, asks to bum one, I can give them the option of a regular or a menthol. Being a smoker myself, I know that it sucks having to smoke a regular if you usually smoke menthol and vice versa."
She said this so matter of factly. As if everyone in the world should carry around two packs of cigarettes even if they don't smoke.
"Having the kind of cig that someone smokes could make his or her day, and who am I to rob them of that pleasure regardless of how small it may be?"

I have never met a girl like this. She moves and speaks with such purpose, it's as though every word and movement were carefully planned. Yet the ease with which she speaks says otherwise.

Her entire being was intoxicating. And if I hadn't had a buzz from the cigarettes and alcohol, I would be buzzed off of her presence alone.

"I'm Zayn by the way," I say as I extend my hand toward her.
She carefully leans off the wall, extends her hand toward me, and replies with, "Michelle."
"Nice to meet you, Michelle."
"So, Zayn, what are you on right now?"
"Um, what do you mean?"
"You know.. Drugs? Alcohol? What?"
"Oh um just had a bit of alcohol, really."
"Well then. It seems we need to change that."
That last sentence had a touch of mystery and honestly it really fucking turned me on. Suddenly I couldn't stop picturing me fucking the life out of her from behind while she screams out my name in ecstasy. But before I had the chance to finish my fantasy, she grabbed my wrist and began dragging me toward the club again.
"Uhhh what do you mean 'we need to change that?' I'm famous, I can't get any drugs. People will find out!"
She stopped dead in her tracks, looked at me with her dazzling green eyes as if daring me to say no one more time, and said, "Don't worry. I've got it taken care of."

I knew this was a bad idea, but how could I possibly say no? She was a forest fire, and I was the forest. She was an avalanche, and I was a single snowflake. She was the kind of person who destroyed everything she touched, and I was the kind of person who kept coming back for more.

She turned back toward the club and dragged me along after her.
And honestly, for the first time in a long time, I felt something.
Fear. Excitement. Joy. Anxiety. I don't know exactly what I felt.
But I never wanted it to stop.

Notes