Hidden Beneath Brown Eyes (A Zayn Malik Fanfiction)

Chapter 1 - Chocolate Brown Eyes

How did I end up here? I asked myself as I curled into a fetal position at the foot of my bed. How did this anxious, fast paced, alternate reality become my life? Why didn't I just hold firm in my initial decision to say 'No'? "Why did I ever have to meet him in the first place?

I was jolted from my sleep by another dream of intense chocolate eyes burning holes straight through my soul. I glanced over at my clock. 8:00am. At least this time, my dreams hadn't woken me at some ungodly hour.

I remained in bed, staring at the ceiling for a few more moments before dragging my tired body from the comfort of my bed. I knew the rest of my family was still asleep, so I quietly glided across my second floor room, pulling a pair of sweats and a tshirt from my closet. I sat at the edge of my bed, securing my sneakers in place before carefully tip-toeing down the stairs, trying to make the creaks as low as possible as I have wooden stairs.

Once I made it down the stairs, I shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and an apple from the counter. I opened the front door, rolling my eyes at the snoring I heard coming from my parent's room, before stepping out into the brisk morning air.

I don't usually wake up in the morning, actually it's rare to see me awake before noon, but on the occasions that I do wake up early, I like to go out for a walk. I love the way the morning feels, especially in October. The seasons are in transition from summer to autumn. The leaves on the trees are changing from the deep greens of BBQs and pool parties, to the sullen, more melancholy colors of impending loss and suffering. It always fascinated me.

Today, I was glad that my dreams had woken me up so early. After a night like that, I needed to clear my head. I was beginning to think that I was going crazy. The dreams started only two weeks ago, but the story of how they ended up in my sleep every night started almost six months ago.

I'm 18 years old. Short, long blond hair, ocean blue eyes, not curvy and not flat. I'm not ugly, but not exactly someone you would look twice at. My parent's named me after my mom's aunt who had set them up on their first date, Adalynn. I just graduated from high school and I had plans of going to college to major in literature, but things don't always go as planned. My father got sued when a family claimed that the house he built for them was demolished during a hurricane because of his faulty building skills. As a result of the lawsuit, we lost everything, which meant no college for me.

Most people would describe me as dry, dull, or just plain boring. But the truth is that I'm just extremely introverted. I'm shy and I'll admit, socially awkward. I only have one real friend and I was lucky to have found her. Although Rosie is my polar opposite, we manage. Our friendship is held together mostly by her need to talk to someone and my special talent, if you want to call it that, of being a good listener.

Rosie is confident, outgoing, bubbly, and just all around likeable. It didn't hurt that she was quite a looker too. She had wavy chestnut hair that fell just below her breasts, emerald green eyes that were pretty enough to cast a spell, tall and slender with just the right amount of curves. She was president of student council, valedictorian, head cheerleader, and any other high school "honor" you can think of. I was the quiet girl who sat in the library during lunch, working on her AP History thesis.

One night while I was sitting in Rosie's bedroom, ranting about my lack of college money, she pulled out a CD that she claimed would cheer me up. I humoured her and listened most of the time, but our tastes in music were completely different.

On this particular night I protested. "Rosie, I'm not in the mood to hear any of your bubblegum pop shit tonight." I groaned, rising to my feet and preparing to leave.

"Oh come on Ada. Nobody, even a sourpuss like you, could resist One Direction!" she beamed, popping the CD in anyway.

I ignored her hyperactivity and headed towards the door. As I was about to grab the knob, I felt Rosie's grip on my arm and turned to face her, greeted by her famous "Rosie puppy dog eyes". She knew that those eyes were the key to getting anybody to do whatever she wanted. Knowing I'd kick myself for this later, I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes as I walked back to her bed, collapsing onto it and resting my head on a pillow.

Baby you light up my world like nobody else,
The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed,
But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell,
You don't know, You don't know you're beautiful

"Oh come on Rosie! This is so chessy!" I scoffed, annoyed that she was making me listen to this. Annoyed with myself for deciding to stay.

"Ada, no girl can resist One Direction. Not even you." she said, so sure of herself.

"Well this music has no effect on me." I replied in a cocky tone, thinking I had won this non existent argument.

"Well then let's see if their faces do." She turned her computer to me, revealing a picture of five boys who looked to be only slightly older than us.

I scanned the photo, 1st boy, 2nd boy, 3rd boy, then something caught my eye; the 4th boy. He had jet black hair that was perfectly styled into a quiff, he was tall and his figure was thin, and he was wearing a black leather jacket with tight jeans and a pair of large boots.

But what really stood out about this man....were his eyes. These beautiful chocolate brown eyes, nestled beneath ridiculously long lashes, that seemed to call out to me. I stared into the eyes of the boy in the picture, trying to figure out what he wanted from me.

"That one is Zayn Malik." Rosie's voice chimed in, breaking my concentration. I knew I'd been caught, but I decided to play it cool.

"Which one?" I asked playing dumb.

"The one you were just drooling over." she said with a satisfied grin.

"I wasn't drooling over anyone. I was just looking at them all. They're not bad, but not my type." I said nonchalantly propping myself up on my elbows.

"Whatever Ada."

On my way home, all I could think of were those eyes. They haunted my memory, finding a home in the deepest recesses of my mind. It had been like he was calling out to me.

I violently shook my head, as if thinking that that would somehow knock the vision of those eyes from my mind. I decided to stop thinking about it and dismissed it as just the little girly effect that boybands were designed to have on girls.

Boybands weren't my thing now, but there was a time when I had been obsessed with them. I had fallen for the Backstreet Boys, I wasn't immune to the charms of a boyband. On that note, I popped in my favorite Led Zeppelin disc and drove the rest of the way home surrounded by Robert Plant's magical vocals and Jimmy Page's entrancing guitar.

The music soothed my stressed thoughts until I got home. I shut my car off and sat in the dark for a few moments, taking in a few low, deep breaths. My mind was reeling from all that had been dropped on my plate within these past months.

I repeatedly hit my head softly on the steering wheel. Those eyes had looked as though they understood the pain in my own. Who did Rosie say those eyes belonged to? Suddenly my subconscious took over, kicking the thoughts from my head and scolding me for thinking of some unknown boys eyes when I had real problems to worry about.

I decided that my subconscious was right. I stepped out into the cool May night, pulling my jacket closer to my body to preserve my body heat. I locked my car and headed into the house for some much needed sleep.