Not sure if you've already written something like this but I was thinking of like a high school reunion prompt with zayn ?? I dunno...
The influx of messages you received from Facebook made you really frustrated. Sure, you had plenty of friends in high school but they didn’t last long at all. People noticed you and saw you day in and day out but no one paid any mind to you much after high school.
But your reunion was just around the corner and the girls were all wondering if you’d be bringing your fiancé to the occasion. Zayn smirked as you huffed cutely blowing the hair that draped around your face. “It’ll be fun, baby,” he said pinching his fingers around your neck to massage the ever-growing knot that was there.
“They’re all obsessed with you,” you muttered. “And I mean, same, but…the people I called my best friends haven’t spoken to me in years,” you said closing your phone and setting it on the table. Zayn pouted a bit and sighed.
“Look baby,” he started and he gathered your hand with the ring on it that he handpicked all alone. He brought it to his lips. “No one understands what you’re talking about more than I do. People pretend to like you when they want or need something,” he promised. “We’re gonna go and people will fawn over you and I’ll get to see the kind of people you went to school with and we’ll have a lot of fun, okay?” He said.
“Do we have to?”
“Yes, love. I want you to rub it in their faces how successful you are…and how hot your fiancé is,” he said knowingly.
Snickering, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll give you that one, definitely.”
It was easier said than done. When you walked into the venue, a whole lot of them swarmed like you couldn’t imagine. Zayn’s hand squeezed yours each time he politely declined signing an autograph. “Normally, I would, but tonight’s not really about me, you know?” He said with a sweet smile.
And how could anyone disagree with a prince like Zayn?
You managed to sit at a table with a few of your friends from way back when. Even though the bitter taste of telling Zayn he was right was horrible, you had to admit it was kind of nice to see your old friends. Majority of the night, Zayn just watched you talk fiddling with your hair that draped a bit passed the back of your chair. The grin on his lips was light and he chuckled at your odd jokes and old memories. He spoke when people talked directly to him or you asked him to help fill in your story.
“Darling,” Zayn said when the questioning was getting too personal and starting to irk you. “Would you like to dance?” He nudged gently. You felt a little tongue tied knowing Zayn would rather shoot himself in the foot than dance.
“We don’t have to dance,” you mumbled as he held you close and swayed gently to the slow song.
Smirking he leaned toward your ear and kissed your temple. “I’d rather dance than watch you get arrested for strangling that poor soul over there.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re overexaggerating.”
“Not from my angle, love,” he snorted and spun you in a small circle.
Tilting your head at him you smiled. “Zayn Malik, did you manage to get rhythm?” You wonder.
He rolled his eyes this time. “I figured I’d have to have my first dance with you and I don’t want to embarrass you,” he said. “Liam’s been teaching me.”
You giggled. “Oh my God, stop. That’s adorable.”
“Stop it, don’t do this thing,” he muttered tugging you closer. “I’d do a lot more for you than learn how to dance.” And as much as you didn’t want to be here, well, Zayn always made it better with simple and sweet words.
After a few more moments of both of you giggling and not stepping on each other’s toes, your high school crush walked right up to you and asked Zayn if he could dance with you. “That’s really up to her,” he said squeezing your shoulder letting you know it was okay for you to dance with him.
“Alright,” you said awkwardly. Even though Zayn was arguably the worst dancer ever this felt way more uncomfortable than your previous dance partner.
“You look beautiful,” he said. You thought of the countless nights you had spent instead of studying thinking of this boy saying those exact words to you. You prayed and hoped that one day he would just look at you and tell you how much he liked you. Today was that day. It was here.
And it meant nothing. You shook your head. “I’m not doing this,” you said knowingly.
“Love, I’m—” You turned and saw Zayn chatting with your old friends they were showing him pictures of babies and their families and old photos of your school days. Meanwhile, he had no idea of the drama unfolding. You knew this was a dumb idea.
“No,” you said suddenly, dropping his hand like a baked potato. “You don’t get to call me love. Or tell me I look beautiful just because I’m here with someone else.”
You shook your head. “You knew all along,” you said quietly. “Every day I spoke to you, I could see the pity in your eyes and now you can’t pity me because I’m happy and successful and you don’t get to tell me that—”
Abruptly, his lips were on yours and you shoved as hard as you could against him causing you to fall backwards with the force you shoved him so you feel right on the ground ripping the bottom of your dress. Zayn was by your side instantly and helping you off the floor. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”
“Honey,” Zayn whispered in your ear.
Shoving off Zayn you marched right back to your old crush. “Is that a fucking joke?!” You said and he stepped back from your scary, angry figure. “You…you want to kiss me? You think that changes the days you broke my heart and left me hanging and made me feel stupid every time you gave me one little thread of hope that something more would happen,” he continued backing up and you continued walking forward.
“Sorry? Save it. I don’t want an apology. I hope you’re miserable seeing my wedding photos. I hope you feel an eighth of the heartbreak I felt when you see how happy I am. You don’t get to say sorry or kiss me or tell me I’m beautiful now that I’m someone else’s.”
He was silent and Zayn took hold of your hand and rubbed a soothing circle into the center of your palm. “C’mon, love,” he whispered and tugged you back to his side. The room was silent as your heels clicked against the floor and you walked past all your classmates. Once outside you shivered, it was freezing. Zayn draped his coat around you and rubbed your arm as he hurried you to his car. “That was pretty hot, love the way you yelled at him.”
Snorting you rolled your eyes. “I’m sorry he kissed me like that.”
“Honestly, bird, I’m sorry for him because he got the worst lecture I’ve ever heard.” You didn’t respond to that as you looked out your window. Zayn didn’t move for a bit and then he rubbed your knee. “You know angel,” he whispered. “Boys are stupid,” he promised. “And if I were him I would have told you every day how beautiful you looked. We would have gone to prom together. You never would have suffered a day in your life from heartbreak,” he said gathering your hand in his and brought it to his mouth.
You sniffled. “I know this is so stupid, because I’m engaged…but it hurt so much and I don’t know if it’ll ever stop hurting,” you whispered and you let the tears fall down your cheeks.
“He was your first love, angel,” he responded. Again, his hand fiddled with your hair while you were an emotional mess. “I will never blame you for that.”
You shook your head. “It’s so stupid.”
He was too understanding and it drove you nuts but nonetheless he shook his head and he kissed your fingers again. “It wasn’t at the time, and you can’t ever forget that because you’ll spend your whole life feeling bad over something that was important to you…we don’t decide what hurts us, baby. It hurts us and then we deal with it.”
“There are days I just do not deserve you, Zayn,” you sniffled with a weak smile.
“Oh bird, don’t be silly,” he winked and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I had a lovely time, though. Your friends were nice and they had nothing but lovely things to tell me…except, I heard you had a minor accident your third year.”
You wrinkled your nose as you glared at him. “Do you want a lecture too, Zayn? Because bringing up the pants debacle of third year is not something I need to relive right now.”
Snickering, Zayn kept his mouth shut and smirked. “Yes, love,” he saluted you obediently and kissed your hand once more. “No lecture for me please.”
Turning a bit more toward him, you bit your lip. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Anytime, baby girl. Any time.”