Pretend It's Ok

"What's wrong with your friend?", Zayn asked in a not-so-nice tone.

Melinda kept her eyes in front of her and responded exhaustively, "What are you talking about?"

"Gharram.", he said sharply. "What's up with her?"

Melinda was sitting in the passenger seat of the car and turned her head towards him with her eyes following tiredly, "What's up with her?"

"She bumped me purposefully on stage...", Zayn hissed eyes on the road.

"You know how Gharram is. She's-.."

"IMMATURE!", he stated with annoyance.

Melinda turned her head towards the window rolling her eyes. Exhaustion took over her and she sighed. Zayn complained more and more each day about the smallest things. Then there would be days where Zayn would be the most kindest person on the face of the earth. It was as if he was bipolar. What really got her angry was how he knew how to get his way. Zayn knew her weak spots and knew exactly how to use them. This had her irritated to the highest degree.

Everything about him just irked her at this point. Zayn wasn't the same. Fame ate him alive. He was arrogant, stubborn, hard headed, stressed and just down-right selfish. Melinda would do as he said, because that's how a wife is supposed to be.

In Melinda and Zayn's religion, the wife (unless forbidden by Koranic law says otherwise) must obey every command the husband gives. There's this belief where the key to getting to heaven is to obey your parents and when a girl gets married, her husband. Unless said husband is not one that treats her right.

Melinda did her duties as a wife to please Allah and no one else. She was faithful and loyal as well. Melinda couldn't see herself be anything but truthful. Then it came down to her faith in Zayn. She knew something was wrong when she had begun to question Zayn's whereabouts.

"Whatever...", she yawned. "You did a good job tonight though.", her gaze still outside the window.

Melinda enjoyed the dark navy skies above and tiny specs of glittery white twinkling. The dark green tint in the trees made the scenery darker. She opened her window letting the wind flow through her hair cooling down the tension she felt. Melinda could smell the familiar scent. The scent of Italian restaurants, car fumes and fast food stops built up an overwhelming feeling in her chest.

The feeling of being near home. Her home.

"Thanks.", Zayn said barely audible. A smile curled on his lips.

Melinda still had her gaze outside the window. She felt a warmth in between her fingers. Her eyes quickly shifted downward and widened slightly to see Zayn's hands interlocking with her's. She gulped holding back her tears. This side of Zayn that held her hand came out rarely. Her heart rate escalated at the forgotten feeling of him. Melinda rested her head against the car seat exhaling what felt like everything she held in. She felt the back of her hand being soothed. Her eyes darted to the source. Zayn's thumb was rubbing circles into her skin gently.

"You okay?", Zayn cooed.

Melinda sighed shifting her body off the car handle, "I'm fine." Liar. She took in the rhythm of Zayn's relaxing movement, "Just tired."

Zayn gently squeezed her hand with reassurance. "Take it easy on yourself tonight."

"I will. It's just hard, y'know?", she gazed at their interlocked fingers.

Zayn nodded in agreement. Melinda was referring to the celebrity life. Indeed it was hard. The stress of being Mrs. Zayn Malik exceeded to heights she couldn't bare. She was constantly watched, adored and hated. Slowly her heart was deteriorating, but she didn't know it. At least, not yet.

Melinda felt as though she was in a boxing match against the world. She felt like she was half way through the first round and she slowly starting giving up.

Melinda shook her head snapping back to reality. She looked towards Zayn who had stopped at a red light. He stared at her with concern and knitted eyebrows. Zayn leaned in forward to her decreasing the distance between them. Zayn lifted his hand and ran a finger down her cheek.

For the first time in a while, she felt as though he was handling her with care. Like fragile glass. His lips connected with her's for a light peck.

Zayn pulled away staring into her eyes, "I'll make everything easier."

She couldn't help but be skeptic and queasy at the thought of him making promises he couldn't keep. Melinda opened her eyes to see two pools of golden green staring back at her with an emotion she missed and craved so greatly. Compassion.

"Promise?", she questioned in a whisper.

Zayn nodded his head pecking her lips once more, "Promise."









"Pass me another drink, Harry!", Gharram screamed over the loud music.

Harry sighed with a grin rolling his eyes, "Seriously, Gramz?"

"Harry!!!", she begged with her eyes closed.

"No Gramzbam. You've had enough.", he scolded taking the shot glass away from her and taking it himself. He cringed at the after taste.

"Kripyaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!", Gharram screamed please in Hindi.

Harry's eyebrows rose and he turned away. He knew she had more than enough alcohol, when Gharram spoke her native language - that and when she was angry.

He furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at her, "I don't know what that means, but no." Gharram begged with a pout. Harry turned away with the other shot glass she had desperately tried sneaking into her grasp, "No!"

Gharram swung her arm on his shoulder and the other hand on the back of his neck. Her honey colored pupils glued to his pale green ones. Her breath lingered of tequila and her mind was filled with thoughts that only a sober heart would ponder of.

Erotic thoughts of Harry. Which was abnormal, because she didn't ever find any interest in him like that. Did she?

Gharram observed Harry's face closely. Harry's lips were a light shade of pink perfectly shaped to be kiss. His lashes were short making a nice mystique to his emerald jewels. Gharram lifted her hand to his face tracing his jaw. His jaw clenched under her touch. The masculine structure made her heart flutter. She had noticed that a dent on his right cheek had appeared.

Gharram's eyes made their way up to his eyes. Harry was amused. He could tell she was checking him out. It made him feel more confident than any girl had made him seem. His smirk widened to a full out grin revealing two dimples. The music around them seemed faint. The lights seemed brighter and she was closer. Their chests were pressed against each other with Harry's hand on the small of her back.

Gharram poked his dent causing him to laugh, "Come on Harry..." He refused shaking his head still smirking. "One more...", she whispered. "Please.", she pleaded her lips near his.

Harry was sinking into her web slowly. He could feel his legs giving in. Gharram made him weak in the knees. His mind had been picturing the many things he wished he could do to her. His heart was racing at the feel of her cool breath brushing against his lips. He could feel her near him.

"N-no...", he shook his head.

Snap out of it!

"Harry.", she shoved her face in his blazer taking in his scent and just giving up on getting that one last shot she so desperately desired.

Her head began to pound violently and she had no control over her limbs anymore. Gharram's mouth was dry at this point. She then rested her head on the crook of his shoulder and hung on him loosely. Gharram lost all control of her body and limped on him for support.

"Are you tired?", he cooed tucking a hair behind her ear. Gharram nodded her with a pout. "Do you want to go home?", Harry talked to her like a baby.

Gharram continued nodding like a child. She wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and lifted herself upwards so Harry could carry her, "I want to sleep."

Out of the both of them, Gharram was always the the more vibrant one. She danced like the world was ending, consumed more alcohol than she was supposed to and enjoyed living more than the next girl. Harry smiled to himself at his drunk best friend. Harry himself was reaching his limit. He had some control... well, more control than Gharram that is. He had enough soberness to drive home. As for anything else, that was quite a challenge.

An hour later, Harry had tucked Gharram in and got her ready for bed. That was a fail though considering the fact that it was Gharram he was 'taking care of'. Gharram being - well basically - OCD when readying for bed, she made a huge fuss.

A drunk fuss.

She demanded to have at least a quick rinse of her body to wash away the dancing she had done earlier, she wanted her PINK shorts and white tank top to change into afterwards, she begged that to brush her teeth thoroughly, drank a tall glass of water and ordered room service for her midnight cravings.

The hotel suite was for her and her alone booked by Victoria's Secret. Each model had been paired up except a lucky few, one of them being Gharram. She stayed alone which was a plus. A big plus. She got to do as she pleased.

There she and Harry sat eating the jalapeno cheese pizza on the couch catching up on everything.

"I like to dip my jalapeno pizza in hot sauce.", Gharram said with her mouth full randomly. She figured maybe eating will sober her up.

Not quite.

"Too bad there isn't any...", Harry stopped mid-sentence seeing Gharram pull out a small red bottle from her bag. "...I stand corrected.", he chuckled at her random behavior.

After the pizza, Harry tucked her in her bed. The night got...

...interesting.

"Good night, honey.", he kissed her forehead lingering his lips longer than he should've. Gharram's heart was fluttering.

"Harry...", she whispered holding his hand. She pulled him down on the edge of the queen sized bed. Harry's eyes were wider as he observed the strength she possessed. "Don't leave...", Gharram slurred.

This sounded all too familiar. Why? Why did this feel like dejavu? Maybe this happened before? The words 'don't leave...' sounded familiar. But why? The sound of isolation and fear in her voice seemed familiar as well. But why?

There was a foreboding feeling in his chest and he hated that it was there. Harry was pissed that the feeling was overwhelming. It kind of killed his drunken state. He couldn't leave Gharram like this even if he wanted to. He was her best friend they had to be there for each other no matter what.

Harry was a tad bit light headed and felt his vision growing hazy all of a sudden. He observed every inch of her face taking her exotic and alluring features. Gharram grabbed him by the collar of his black blazer - catching him off guard - pulling him onto the bed but most importantly, onto her.

His eyes widened at her drastic gesture. "Gharram?", he whirled his eyebrow trying to collect his thoughts that were in a jumbled up mess.

"You look so cute.", she ran a finger down his jaw. "And I'm too cold to be in here all by myself.", Gharram seduced him not knowing exactly what she was getting herself and Harry into.

Before Harry could fight back, Gharram's face was closer and his vision had been much more blurry than it had been before. Harry could feel the nights festivities kick in as he felt a slight pang of dizziness.



His body hovered over her's radiating heat in between them. His lips brushed lightly over her's mixing their alcohol stained breath. Their eyes were focused onto each other's mouths refusing to look away. Somehow, the distance between the two lessened and lessened. Yet neither did a thing about it.

What was going on? Why was Gharram's heart beating faster? Why hadn't Harry stopped himself yet? What is this mutual feeling they both are sharing?

'Gharram stop yourself. What are you doing?', she mentally screamed.

'You can't be serious? Control your feelings!', Harry scolded himself as well.

"It's getting awfully cold in here Harold.", Gharram whispered into him. Her lashes lowered casting a shadow on the apples of her cheeks.

Harry ran his fingers through her hair. His lips parted fighting the urge to do the unavoidable. He was always in control of himself, but the alcohol grasped his inner hidden feelings.

Harry's towering shadow covered everything but her golden eyes filled with lust and some other emotion. Confusion, maybe? Frustration? He didn't care. Harry's voice was low and groggy as he retorted quite skillfully.

"Maybe I should fix that."







Melinda had stayed in the hotel lobby chatting with an old colleague of her's. When she had gotten up to the suite Zayn had booked, it was dimly lit. She heard faint music in the background and smelled the aroma of her everywhere. Sweet pea. She smirked taking in the alluring scent. Walking into the suite, she hung her jacket over the edge of the bed.

"Zayn?", she rose her voice slightly for it to be audible. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the bathroom.", she heard him echoing. "Can you help me with something, baby?", she heard the water swooshing.

Melinda shook her head grinning at his evil tricks to get her to him faster. She could feel her heart reaching her throat more and more as she neared the slightly opened door. She bit her lip walking into the dimly lit bathroom. The walls were glowing a dark Orange color from the sweet pea scented candles at every angle. Melinda's jaw dropped in awe at the sight around her.

"Take your clothes off and relax.", he stood up wiping his hands of water winking at her. Zayn walked towards her with a smirk. Not his normal sexual smirk, but more of a proud smirk. Proud that he had did all of this for her.

"Zayn wha-..."

Zayn cut her off before she could continue. He placed his index finger on her lips, "Not another word. Just relax."

He walked behind her - towering over her. His hands massaged her shoulders in a rhythmic movement. Zayn's fingers glided slowly across the skin of her arms to her hands. He brought them back to her shoulders placing light kisses. Zayn unzipped the dress and slowly pushed off the straps of the dress. Melinda's insides were on fire at his touch.

This was the Zayn she fell for. The one she loved so much.

His lips touched her shoulder and up her neck giving her chills. He groaned at the sight of her as the black dress slid down to the tiled floor. Zayn's jaw clenched at the sight of her in black lace undergarments. Zayn pushed back all her hair to one side resting his chin on her shoulder and slid his hands around her waist holding her close to him tightly. Melinda tilted her head back on his chest closing her eyes. Goosebumps formed from the nape of her neck to the tips of her fingers.

Oh how Zayn knew what to touch at what time. He was always on point with his actions. Always.

He squeezed slightly on her waist causing her to gasp. Zayn's excitement increased and he chuckled, "Come on baby, water'll get cold."

"Thank you.", Melinda whispered turning to him. Zayn grinned down at her and she placed a kiss on his lips.

Zayn looked into her eyes and with one swift snap, she let go of her bra. His eyes grew darker when he seen her panties drop to the floor next to her other clothes. Melinda was the one who was smirking now. She slowly and seductively lowered herself into the warm liquid.

"Don't tease me.", Zayn whined. "You're too irresistible to ignore.", he followed her to the large tub.

"Maybe I don't want to be ignored.", Melinda turned to him as Zayn stated massaging her.

"You, Mrs. Kapoor, are very cheeky.", he said deepening his grip on her.

Melinda turned towards Zayn her lips nearing his, "That's Mrs. Malik to you, sir."

Zayn chuckled, "Oh? I don't seem to remember." He was back to his playful manner. "Well, Mrs. Malik, why don't you remind me who you are exactly.", he brushed his lips across her supple plump ones.

Melinda's heart was racing and she couldn't feel her legs anymore. The feel of him this way was something she couldn't handle. She couldn't deal with. He was overpowering. Nothing in her mind registered. Melinda had forgotten what it was she had been sad about it before.

That's how it was.

He knew what to say and do to make her forget.

"Trust me when I say...", she whispered into him. Her eyes staring at his jaw. She loved when he had a thick line of hair frowning along his jaw. "...you won't ever forget who I am."

And just like that, everything was forgotten. Words and actions took away the heartache that built up in her chest.

Notes