Spanish girls are something else.

As soon as we arrived at the Mallorca airport, you could already feel the atmosphere. These girls know and do things that others don't. We took a few days off between Madrid and Barcelona’s concerts and stopped by. A friend had recommended we come; according to him, they have some of the best parties in the world. Apparently, kids come here after graduation to celebrate the summer before heading off to university. I guess we wanted to see how they do it in Spain.

Zayn hands me my third beer of the afternoon, and I take a sip while looking around. It's crazy hot. The place, a private beach with a bunch of young people dancing, smells of alcohol and sunscreen, and the fact that all the girls are in bikinis adds a little something extra. God, I love Spain.

I finish my beer in one gulp and turn to throw the can in the trash, when I bump into a red bikini and have to grab her by the hip to keep her from falling. "God, I'm sorry, are you-" Your eyes lift up to meet mine and I stop speaking.

God i fucking love Spain.

You frown a little, and suddenly I realize that I'm not in England, and that maybe you didn't understand me. "Fuck, how do you say it in Spanish... Lo… Lo siento?"

You let out a small laugh, and I feel like I've just heard an angel speak for the first time. I smile a little and tilt my head. "What's so funny?"