Zouis - State of Dreaming Part 2

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A/N: okay so i really hope you like it! This one is my favorite thing i've ever done so please be nice 

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I live my life inside a dream
Only waking when I sleep
I would sell my sorry soul, if I could have it all












The phone kept ringing. All day it rang and rang, but I could bring myself to move. 


I knew who it was; it was my manager. He left voice messages that sang through my near empty flat, scolding me for not giving him a painting sooner than he had hoped. Then got angrier and angrier as I let it ring each time. 


I couldn't give him the painting. I set in on a chair across from me, and I stared at it. I painted it, and I knew each detail that I had added, but I kept discovering something new, each time, whether it be the exact shade of blue in his eyes, or the way the right side of his smile was just slightly higher than the left. 


I sipped my coffee, looking at the painting. Why couldn't I just wrap it up and drop it off like every other painting I've done? Why was this painting so different than all the rest?


The phone rang. 


I checked the clock: 2:38 am. 


I cracked my neck and stood up, very slowly and thoughtfully. Since I couldn't give up this one, I figured it was better to just start to make another painting. So I set my now cold coffee on the counter before making my way to the studio room with one more glance at the painting of Louis sitting on the chair.





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I bit my lip when I looked at the completed painting. It was supposed to be someone lying in bed, while the light was streaming in the the window, looking as if the day was passing by without him. Instead, I couldn't help but recognize the light brown feathery hair that poked put from underneath the thin blankets. I could recognize the eyelashes that could just barely be seen before he was swallowed by the blanket. His face was content, and completely peaceful. I knew who it was, without having to blink an eye.


It was Louis.


Why was this boy I've never seen nor known invading my mind? What was it about his soft features that made me want to study them? And spend all my spare time thinking about them? And touch them? And kiss them?


I set that painting aside along with the first Louis.





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The phone rang four days later. 


I knew it was from my manager. I haven't talked to him in days... I got up and finally picked up the phone, knowing that he needed to know what was happening. 


"ZAYN!" He shouted once he realized that the ringing had stopped. 


"The painting's not done." I whispered, the four paintings I had completed seemed to stare at me; their laser gaze melted my skin. 


"What have you been doing, Zayn?" He asked quietly. "Are you okay? Need me to come down?" He sounded so concerned for me, it was hard to say no. 


But the thought of him seeing the paintings had me shaking. "No. That's fine. I'll try to get the piece done as soon as possible."


"Be safe, Zayn." He said before I hung up.  


I sighed and looked over to the four paintings of Louis. I couldn't stop painting him... He never left my mind. As I looked at him sitting by a river, smiling over at me, I wondered what he would be like... Very happy of course. He deserves to always be happy. You can tell he likes to smile, by the crinkles by his eyes. He was very spontaneous and had childish glow about him as I looked at the fourth painting of him successfully running away from me in a meadow, looking back to grin triumphantly. 


He seemed like the perfect person. 


I couldn't help but wonder what his skin might feel like.. I wonder what he might smell like.  I wonder what his voice would sound like. I wonder if he could sing. I wonder if he could dance. Did he have a knack for cooking or perhaps was he good at writing? I wonder what his lips might taste like against mine...


But this was all absurd as I thought about him. He wasn't real as much as I'd like to think he was. But how could I know so much detail about a man that doesn't exist? 


I sighed and stretched my sore limbs. It was late in the night. Late enough to look out the window and see the aftermath of hungover young adults slump their shameful way back home. But I didn't. I turned off all the lights in the flat, took one last glance over at Louis, then made my way to my bed. I collapsed on top of it, wondering how long I can put off painting for the auction and continue painting Louis.





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"Zayn.." 


It was a voice, completely foreign yet totally familiar. I could hear the soft sound of a calm river flowing in the distance. 


"Zayn, love, wake up." 


I peeled my eyes open, blinking a few times as the sunlight near burned my eyes. But I opened them, sitting up to get a better look around at where I was. I was lying in the middle of a beautiful meadow. The sun was shining in the distance and to my left, was a running creek, and beyond that, a forest stretched as far as the eye could see. For a moment, I wondered where I was until it began to look somewhat familiar-


"Zayn!" 


I turned to see a very familiar boy dipping his feet in the water. He looked at me with a big toothy grin, and waved me over. 


"Louis?" I asked in wonder as I stood.


"Come on, Zayn!" He said, before jumping onto a rock in the middle of the creek and jumping to the side with the forest. He looked back at me. "Come on, Zayn! I know you can do it!"


I didn't even hesitate to follow him across the river. I had never done anything so spontaneous. Usually, I would figure out each step to take, and wonder what the possible outcomes of each decision would be. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins as I jumped onto each rock, and successfully crossing the river. 


"I knew you could do it, Zayn." Louis smiled at me, and I swear my heart jumped from my chest. His smile was so much more radiant in person. His eyes seemed to shine so much brighter. His voice was soft as if the angels themselves crafted it with the upmost delicacy.  


I wanted to sit him down and ask him questions. What was his favorite song? What was his favorite way to drink coffee? Did he even like coffee? Could he dance? Could he sing? What was his mother like? Does he have any sisters or brothers? But he seemed to have other ideas, for as I began to stutter his name, he giggled - yes a grown man fucking giggled- and took off into the forest and was out of my sight.


"Louis!" I yelled trying to catch up, but the twigs and branches seemed to be grabbing at my ankles and slowing me down.


No answer. I ran harder, pushing my legs to go at their limit. 


"LOUIS!" The darkness seemed to grow around me, engulfing me into an endless forest of black.  Louis was nowhere to be seen, but his giggles filled my ears, echoing around me in the dark. 





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The dream never left my mind all day. It haunted me as I mindlessly made my coffee, like every morning. Everything felt so real. Louis was so close to me I could feel him. His voice was so much better than anything I could have come up with.

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