Zayn Malik. Every time I hear that name, I get chills all over my body. He wasn't exactly the most likable person in town, but he was definitely the most intimidating. You could ask anyone and they might say he was "weird" , "quiet" , "mysterious" , "freaky" , anything along those lines. People would always judge him before even getting to know him. They'd always base his personality off of his too-cool-to-care appearance. I never thought to talk to him or ever thought I would have a conversation with him. Until one day I ran into him.
I stayed late after school to work on an art project. I had to go to the art supply room to get some paintbrushes and paint. From the supply closet, I could hear humming in the distance. I followed the sound and it led me to door right next to me. Slowly, I turned the knob and pushed the door.
Zayn was kneeled down with a paintbrush in his hand and a half painted canvas sitting in front of him. He was the humming I heard. Close up, his voice sounded as if I died and was at the gates of heaven about to be greeted by God himself. Well, maybe not that deep, but it was a heavenly sound. On the canvas was a picture of a woman walking in the rain. It was actually really nice.
My thoughts were interrupted by a voice.
"Hello." Zayn had turned around and was staring at me. "Can I help you? What's are you doing here?"
I was speechless because this was the first time I'd heard him talk. "I-i was just g-g-getting some paint." I struggled to let out my words. "Sorry I interrupted you. I-I'll leave now." I turned around but Zayn stopped me.
"No it's alright. I'm Zayn." He held his hand out in front of me.
I took his warm, soft hand in mine and shook it. His brown eyes were staring into mine. I started to get a little funny feeling in my stomach. I hadn't realized I was staring at him until he took his hand away.
"Umm, I'm Y/N" I said with a small smile.
"Y/N...that's a nice name." He gave a wide smile in return. "Did you need this room?"
I never knew this room was here, but just replied with a simple "no."
He went back to painting his canvas and I decided to stay and watch.
"That's a nice painting." I complimented him while analyzing the drawing.
"Thank you....Almost finished." He added a little more details and then stepped back to admire his artwork. "So why are you in here?"
It took a moment for me to realize Zayn was talking to me. "Uh I heard you singing and I just came in here." I trailed off and looked everywhere but at him.
He let out a little laugh. "Please don't tell anyone about this. About the singing or about the painting. Promise."
I looked at Zayn and nodded. "Promise." Honestly, I didn't want to be nosey, but I couldn't help but ask why.
"Why don't you want anyone to know about this?" I asked while gesturing my hand towards the art.
"Well let's just say I like to keep a low profile."
He said simply and started to clean his mess.
Since that day, my thoughts were focused on him. Who is Zayn Malik? The quiet, mysterious kid who everyone, even I, thought he was? Or is he a normal guy who has a passion for art with the voice of an angel? Who is he?
THE END
________________________________
Hope you liked this one! I really miss Zayn. :( .
I might do one of these for the other boys. Comment if I should!
-Alexis <3
