Awkward.

Everything about this is just so awkward.

Stevie did not think she could be more uncomfortable.

And it's her own fucking wedding.

Stevie thinks she's ready to go home.

Like, now.

Because the wedding cake and the first dance and the little toasts to a future of happiness are slowly starting to blur as Stevie does the only thing she thinks she can do to mask all of this awkward.

She drinks.

Thank god for an open bar.

"Okay, baby, I think that's been quite enough."

She giggles, a soft, airy laugh escaping her lips as Zayn helps her into the backseat of their waiting limousine. "Haven't heard you call me that in a long time."

"What?"

She leans her head against the window, eyes closed. "Baby."

"When's the last time I'd seen you, Stevie?"

She decides not to reply to this, mostly because she doesn't even know where to start with that answer, and also because she can hear the bite in Zayn's words.

There's so much still...unspoken between them.

This is so fucking awkward.

"I wish an apology would make this less uncomfortable."

"You're drunk," he says. "Just..."

And Stevie opens her eyes to see Zayn--her husband--turn his head and stare out the window.

"Forget it."

"Look at us..." she can't help but giggle. "Arguing. Like...Like--"

He grunts, tucking his head and playing with his beard in that way he always did when he's nervous or blushing.

"We're married, aren't we?"

Stevie's stomach churns.

She's married.

She's married to Zayn.

Zayn Malik.

God has some twisted sense of humor.

"Look at God!" Exclaimed Janis as she went back to change before the reception. "Zayn! You just married Zayn!?"

Stevie thinks that if she had known this wedding would have kicked off like this, she might as well have asked the producers to let her girls come from the orphanage, because they literally couldn't have ruined anything.

Not even if they tried.

Not even if Katie flirted with all the groomsmen.

Not even if Marley fell asleep.

Not even if Jazz spent the night cussing.

Stevie drunkenly fingers the ring on her left hand, now. "I can't believe--"

"Neither can I."

But, Stevie really couldn't believe it.

It had been years--years since she'd been this close to Zayn, and...and she just wasn't the same girl she was back then. She'd grown up so much. She'd changed since the days they were so wrapped up in each other.

And here she was.

Here they were.

God definitely had a twisted sense of humor--that, she knew for damn sure.

And here she sits, riding beside him in the backseat of a limousine, en route to the the hotel they'd stay at before being whisked off on some honeymoon in Hawaii.

Sounded like a dream, didn't it?

It sounded like a dream-come-true, and Stevie's too drunk to do anything more than slump against the window and worry about what her life has become.

Because she's Stevie Malik, now.

She's married to Zayn.

He's her husband.

She's his wife.

Shouldn't they be in love?

And now, all of a sudden, she's thinking back to the ceremony.

She's thinking back to the kiss.

She's thinking back to the way he pulled her against him and pushed back her hair and bit on his lip before pressing his own to hers and making her remember. Stevie hadn't expected to be kissed at all today, honestly. She expected maybe a peck on a cheek from a stranger, and not this searing kiss from Zayn, who held her in his arms like he used to and made her feel like he'd never let her go.

Like he did.

Because he had.

He had let her go.

And they're married, now...

The limo pulls up to the hotel.

"Baby--Stevie," Zayn clears his throat, "we're here."

She pretends like she missed him calling her 'Baby' again, and nods. She takes the hand he's offering with a small, tipsy smile and allows him to lead her from the backseat of the limousine.

She stumbles, tripping on the sidewalk, and he catches her, holding her against him as he leads her to the lobby of the hotel.

Stevie is drunk.

"Zayn," she says against him, realizing that he hadn't let her go just yet, "you don't have to--"

He does anyway, ducking his head and holding onto her waist, "We're married, aren't we?"

A slight smile crosses her face. "You gonna keep saying that?"

He pauses, catching her as she stumbles again, falling heavily against him. He looks away, "Probably."

Cameras follow them everywhere. Stevie almost forgot this was a television show. She'd just married her college sweetheart for ratings.

Ain't that some sh--

"Stevie?"

She hums, looking up at once. "Yeah."

He's biting his bottom lip, quietly attempting to mask a smile. "Need you to walk some, yeah?"

She nods, because she'd only been leaning and staring and not moving her feet. "Okay. Yeah."

And Zayn is chuckling a little, laughing at her expense as she attempts to right herself, stepping away from him and swaying back and forth with each step they take together from the lobby.

"Are you..." She hiccups, "Are you laughing at me?"

He hums, receiving their room key and taking her hand in his. "I am. Need me to carry you?"

"No," she replies, salty that he's still laughing, running his thumb under his lip in that way he always did. "I don't."

"Y'sure, Stevie?"

"P-Positive, Zayn."

"You're stuttering."

"Okay?"

"You do that when you're drunk."

"I don't."

"Okay," he rolls his eyes, "right--whoa!"

And she stumbles, kicking a lift in the carpet and tumbling to the floor--in her dress and all.

And she just curls up on the floor in the hall. This is on television. People she doesn't know will see her fall.

Amazing.

She nods tiredly, "I'm just gonna stay right here..."

There's a hand on her waist.

"Stevie?"

She cracks an eyelid. "I-I'm gonna need you to stop laughing, first."

But Zayn shakes his head above her, his tongue behind his teeth as his eyes squint beneath the lights and he tries to catch his breath but can't.

He cannot.

"Stevie--" He tugs on her wrist. "Please? C'mon, love."

Love.

Another one of the pet names he had for her.

"That was my favorite," she mutters, almost incoherently as she allows Zayn to lift her from the floor.

"What?" He asks, hoisting her to her feet and then lifting her into his arms. "You said something to me?"

"Love," she whispers, voice muffled against his chest. "That was my favorite."

"Yeah?"

She hums again.

Zayn's reply is rather soft. "Glad you still like it."

"I--mhmm."

"Maybe I'll use it more then, yeah?"

Her eyes fly open.

"I mean," he says quickly, "it's if, like...we're married, right?"

It's amazing how some things really don't change.
___

they're my fave zayn couple I'm writing so far just saying

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