Zayn steps into the bedroom, still in his tight-fitted suit, the fabric stretching perfectly across his broad shoulders. His tie hangs loosely, and his dark eyes find you instantly, curled up on the bed, your focus fixed on your phone.

Without hesitation, he strides over, reaching down to gently but firmly take the phone from your hands. He places it on the nightstand with deliberate care before turning his full attention to you.

“Are you busy, angel?” he asks, his deep voice steady, carrying a quiet authority that leaves no room for argument. He leans in close, his hand braced on the pillow beside your head, his presence commanding yet tender.