Criminal VS. Criminal || мαℓιк

15. Apartments

15.  Apartments

 WARNING: Lots of P.O.V. Switching!

   Once Zayn was taking a shower, I sneaked the note out of my wallet, where I had hid it. The sound of the water running made me nervous. He could turn it off any second now. And what would I do? Shove the piece of paper in my mouth and swallow the name of the beautiful angel I saw. Pushing those thoughts away, I managed to get the paper open. My eyes scanned over the small, scrawny hand-writing. Whoa, this dude write like chicken scratch, I thought. 

   Call me maybe? :) XXX-XXX-XXX

   My gaze flickered to the bottom of the paper, where this so-called angel's name was written. The smile on my face felt like it would break any minute now. Even his name sounded like an angel's name. It was utterly gorgeous. And later, as I took a nap, his name and face bounced around my brain, sending me into pure bliss.

   Niall

~*~

 

Zayn Malik's P.O.V. :

   "Uno, dos, tres. Don't fuck with maaay," I said as Max and I drove to the apartment building Louis suggested. Max turned her head to look at me, raising her eyebrows.

   "What is that supposed to be? A Ghetto version of Dora the Explora?" Max quizzed. I shrugged.

   "Maybe. Anyway, Louis says this is the place," I answer, pulling into one of the parking spaces. I unlock the doors, sizzling out of my seat and out the door. Max and I meet at the door to the building. I pull it open, about to step in, when Max does. Where are my manners? I push Max back, walking in first. There they are.

   "Hello! You must be Maxxon Chase and Zayn Malik, yes?" The old man says, staring between us. How does he know us? He must sense our confusion. "Mr. Tomlinson booked you guys a tour of the empty rooms around here." We nod, the confusion swept away.

   As we start our tour, none of the rooms catch Max's attention. We walk through master rooms that cost five hundred dollars every two months, but Max ignores them. I'm starting to think Max doesn't like any of the rooms. There were only a few left, and she still hadn't made a decision. Wow, I never realized how picky Max was. 

   We reached the top floor of the apartment, where nobody lived. Mr. Parsons, the land lord, said it was because no one who lived here liked the giant space. But Max loved it. Especially because it had a loft space. Max being Max, bought the whole floor, saying she had big plans for the rest of the space. Mr. Parsons didn't question. He just took the pay for the next two months, which was two-fifty each. There were only three rooms on the top floor, all ranging in size. Max chose the medium sized one for her self, because it was in the best condition. 

   After Mr. Parsons left, Max and I sat on the floor of her new flat, talking about what she was going to do with the other two rooms she bought. Max was hesitate to answer, but when she did, she was extremely shy about it. "I-I I wanna turn the smaller one into my art studio and the bigger one. . . I wanna do art classes for people. . ."