Zayn tilted his head, pretending to ponder the idea like he wasn’t already sweating down his spine.
"Are you sure it’s not just a trap to drag into another store so I can awkwardly pick out underwear again?"
She bumped her shoulder against him with a soft laugh. "Nooo. That was only step one."
Zayn blinked. "There’s steps?"
"Maybe," she said with a smile, tugging him toward the alley.
The alley wasn’t sketchy, surprisingly.
In fact, it had a cozy little bench shaded by a magical canopy vine that filtered the sunlight into calming specks of gold and green.
So romantic couple had definitely made out here before — they probably engraved their initials in the wall with a dagger, or maybe burned them in with a low-level fla spell.
Althea sat first, still holding Zayn’s hand.
She looked at him, eyes wide and playful, then slowly leaned her head on his shoulder. "This is nice," she whispered. "I’m glad you ca with today."
Zayn leaned back, his free hand resting across the back of the bench. " too. Honestly, I thought you still hated ."
She turned her face to look at him, lips slightly parted. "I never hated you. I was just... embarrassed about that night. I didn’t an to leave you like that."
"It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault at all," Zayn said. "I was just... drunk. I’m glad I didn’t force myself on you but you were there, and you’re — uh — you."
"’You’re — uh — you’?" she echoed with a giggle.
"Words are hard," he muttered.
She laughed again, softer this ti, and tilted her face toward him. "Well, I’m glad we got to know each other a bit today. You’re fun. A little awkward. But fun."
"Only a little awkward? That’s a win in my book."
Their eyes locked for a mont — his slightly narrowed, hers sparkling with a shyness that tried its hardest to look brave.
And then, the tiniest breeze swept through the alley, lifting a few strands of her hair against his cheek.
He slled lavender, parchnt, and a bit of magic dust. Maybe nervousness too. She was definitely nervous.
And yet, she didn’t move away.
"Can I ask you sothing?" Zayn murmured.
"Sure."
"If I kissed you right now... would you run away again?"
Althea blinked, caught between a laugh and a choke.
"That depends." She said.
"Good enough," Zayn muttered, eyes locked with hers.
And then he kissed her.
It was slow at first, the kind of kiss where both were a little too nervous to commit but too drawn in to stop.
His lips moved against hers like a question, and hers responded like an answer that had been waiting too long. It was soft, clumsy and sweet.
She tasted like spiced sauce from lunch, and a bit of peppermint — where did she even get peppermint?
Her lips trembled just a bit, but she leaned in, pressing more firmly against him.
Zayn let himself fall into it, one hand curling around her waist, the other gently tipping her chin.
The sun was distant now, hidden behind the vines above them, and all he could feel was her.
The kiss deepened.
Sloppier now, less careful.
Their tongues t awkwardly at first, bumping, unsure, but then tangled like they’d been trying to figure out this puzzle for ages.
Zayn groaned softly into her mouth, the sound slipping out before he could stop it.
Althea made a tiny squeak, almost embarrassed, but then — gods — she shifted her weight forward.
Zayn wasn’t ready.
Her legs moved to either side of his lap and then — plop — she sat down fully, her weight sending a jolt through his whole spine.
He choked on air, half in shock, half in excitent.
"You okay?" she whispered, breathless, her forehead resting against his.
"Yep. Just died for a second. Ca back. All good now."
She giggled and wrapped her fingers through his, still sitting on him.
His heart was going wild.
Absolutely berserk. Althea wasn’t heavy by any ans, but the heat of her, the warmth of her thighs bracketing his, the gentle weight pressing down — it was a lot for one man to process.
And she didn’t seem in a rush to get off.
Their lips found each other again. This ti, slower. Less ssy. Intimate in the quietest way.
When they parted, a little line of saliva still connected them — shimring like a spider’s silk between their lips.
Althea saw it, turned bright red, and quickly wiped it with her sleeve, muttering sothing like, "Gross but kinda cute."
Zayn chuckled softly. "I’ve had ssier lunches."
"I was the lunch," she murmured, hiding her face in his neck.
That made him laugh, arms now loosely around her waist, unsure what to do with all the very close proximity.
He could feel her heartbeat. He could feel... everything, honestly.
The rise and fall of her breath. The faint pressure of her chest against his.
The slight wiggle of her hips every ti she readjusted.
And then — just to see what would happen — he lifted a hand and gently rested it over her chest.
Over her clothes, of course. Zayn wasn’t a caveman.
A nervous, awkward man trying not to have a stroke in an alley? Absolutely.
But definitely not a caveman.
He squeezed softly.
Althea’s breath hitched.
She didn’t slap his hand away.
She didn’t scold him.
She made a sound — small, surprised, sowhere between a gasp and a whimper — and instead of pulling away, she leaned closer.
Zayn paused. "Uh..."
Althea’s face was already buried in his neck. "Don’t stop."
His brain blue-screened.
He did not have a recovery spell for this.
Still, gently, he rubbed his thumb over the soft curve, feeling the texture of the fabric and the warmth beneath it.
She shivered. Her hands clutched his shoulders tighter.
"This is unfair," he mumbled.
"What is?"
"You sit on , kiss breathless, and then make cute sounds like that? You’re trying to kill ."
She peeked up at him, cheeks blazing. "Maybe I just like you too much."
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