Beautiful

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Elle's POV

Something about him always frightened me for reasons unknown. I've always failed to learn his name. However, it seems he wouldn't be interested in sharing that information with me.

I watch him sit in seclusion as he stares out at the dark water of the lake. He looks mysterious and thoughtful. It seems no outside force could pull him from his private world in which he lives. But it's worth a try.

It's been hours since he last moved. Once he arrived at the party, he left the fire and noise to be alone. I suppose I wouldn't blame him. The sound and company of drunk teenagers at a midnight party by a lake is not always welcoming and friendly.

"Elle, come join the fun!" my good friend, Charlotte, calls. She holds a plastic cup in her hands, filled with who knows what? She's surrounded by the boys on every possible sports team there is. We've always been known as "popular" at school. So the attention automatically dawns on us. In reality, I don't think I am.

I shake my head and continue watching the loner. He looks down at his feet like he's thinking hard. It's now or never.

I draw in a deep, nervous breath. My legs tremble slightly as I walk the distance to him. I sit beside him on the log he's occupied. I sit close enough for comfort for both of us.

"It's quiet over here," I state. That sounded a bit too awkward to start a conversation.

He blinks once, as if confirming my spoken thoughts. He looks so innocent and hurt. I wonder why...

"Why aren't you over there?" I ask.

He doesn't reply. He just sits like there's nothing else to do. I guess I'm interrupting his thoughts, but I really wanted to talk to him. Somehow I know I'll learn from my mistakes here.

"My name is Elle, by the way," I state quietly. He turns his head and faces me. I notice the deep pain in his dark eyes, yet all of his facial features that begin to have a petition on me.

He turns his head again, facing the water once more. His black hair falls down in his eyes as the slight summer breeze passes over us. He extends his hand up and brushes the strands of hair to the side.

That's when I notice his hand.

His knuckles are swollen, red, and scraped; it's like he hit something and hard. His hand carries multiple scars and scratches.

"Zayn," he responds. His voice was something unexpected. It was deep enough to send panic through me. He sounded empty, desolate, bare. I don't show any response other than a simple nod.

He stands and shoves his hands in his pockets of his leather jacket. He gives a smoldering stare to the sky and then closes his eyes. I stand quietly and observe his actions. I silently question myself.

I notice how tall he truly is in comparison to me. He almost towers over my small height. I feel intimidated around him, though I shouldn't for someone so harmless. Yet he was threatening.

He quickly turns and starts to walk away from the water's edge. "Hey!" I call. He stops and turns. He gazes at me with his dark eyes. "Will I see you around?" I ask. He slightly shrugs his shoulder.

"Don't count on it," he replies. He turns and continues walking, leaving me confused by what just happened. There were only opposites I sensed about him. One trait being more dominant and showing how emotionally challenged he may be, also including what he's done to overcome this.

He seems to be something more than I originally expected. He is quiet, yet somehow confident. Intimidating for sure. I have been viewing him, as of now, as the one who's probably had a rough life. Maybe I'm right, and maybe I'm wrong. There is something so frightening about him, so dangerous about him, yet... What?