they don't know about us one direction ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

The streets of New York City are chaotic as you and Zayn make your way down, surrounded by the constant clicking of cameras and the relentless shouts from reporters.

The crowd is overwhelming, their voices loud and curious, but Zayn is focused on one thing: getting to the car. His Bentley is parked a few blocks down, but every step feels like it's pulling you deeper into the spotlight.

Zayn’s arm is wrapped around your waist, his touch a protective shield as he leads you through the throng of people. The flashing lights seem to capture every movement, every expression, every inch of your existence. You both know this moment is inevitable, but that doesn’t make it any less overwhelming.

"How long have you two been together?" one reporter yells, barely able to hide the excitement in their voice. Another one asks, "When did this all start?"

You hear one shout, "When can we expect the baby?"

You cringe internally. A baby? Seriously?

Despite Zayn being a globally recognized pop star with One Direction, you aren’t exactly a stranger to the public eye yourself. Your career as a supermodel has placed you in front of cameras just as often, working with icons like Bella Hadid and Kendall Jenner.

And now, the media has something to really feast on: you and Zayn, together. The realization makes your stomach twist in an unfamiliar way.

Zayn senses the tension in you. His arm tightens around your waist, a silent reassurance, though his expression is one of barely contained irritation. He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear, barely audible over the noise.

"They’ll get bored of this eventually," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "It’s just a bunch of stupid bloody questions, and they're some fucking assholes. Don’t let them get to you."