Urban Ink [A Ziall Fic]

Three [Losing Grip]

            Niall wakes up and takes a long shower, dressing in his work uniform and running his hands through his hair. He had an eight hour shift today, and as much as he didn’t want to go, he knew he had to. His dad had gotten him this job. After all, his dad owned almost all of the stores in town. He was this big entrepreneur, and everyone knew his name.

            So, as soon as Mr. Horan thought that Niall was at working age, he shoved him into a job. Niall really didn’t even have much say. And now he works at the worst food restaurant in the whole town. [And as much as Niall wants to complain he knows that his dad would be furious]

            So he heads off to work and only half pays attention all day. His thoughts are still on the dream he had and he kind of wants to rip his hair out and erase Zayn from his mind.

            “Niall,”

            “Oh, hey dad,” Niall eyes flash up to meet his fathers. He is sitting at the counter of the restaurant and waiting for someone to come and pay for their meal. [however it’s not really busy, because no one really eats here anymore]

            “We need to talk,” Mr. Horan says, “I’m coming over to your place after your shift, okay?”

            “Yeah, sure dad,”

            “Good,” He smiles, patting his son on the back, “Why don’t you make us a steak or two?”

            So Niall gets off of work and heads back home, immediately cleaning and running around, and throwing two steaks on the grill out back. And then there is Zayn, sitting on his patio all alone and shirtless again. Niall tries not to stare.

            “Hey, Niall,” Zayn says.

            Niall curses. Why can’t Zayn just ignore him? “Hi,” Niall mutters.

            “What’s under your skin now, Horan?”

            “You,”

            “Oh?” Zayn chuckles lightly, “Yeah okay…” There is a pause and then, “Who are you cooking for anyway?”

            “My dad,” Niall says, looking up and over to Zayn. Don’t look at his tattoos. Don’t look at his flawless tan skin. Don’t look Niall. Don’t look. “And I would appreciate it if youweren’t on the patio when he came over. We are going to be talking and we don’t need you here eavesdropping and being all annoying,”

            Zayn smiles, “Maybe I’ll just stay out here for the rest of the night then,”

            Of course.

            Niall’s dad knocks on his door about ten minutes later and Niall gives him a beer and escorts him to the patio. Mr. Horan takes a seat and smiles at his plate of food. For a moment, Niall thinks that his father doesn’t even notice Zayn. But then, “Who is that? Your neighbor? Barbaric, I see. He should really put on a shirt and stop smoking,” Niall wants to say something, but can’t. His voice is caught in his throat and he feels like screaming. “So Niall,” His father continues, “We are closing down the restaurant,”

            Niall’s eyes widen, “What? I thought you loved that place?”

            Mr. Horan shakes his head, “I do. But it’s not making us any money. So we are reinvesting,”

            “In what? Where will I work?”

            “I’m investing in this small tattoo parlor at the edge of town. It’s been making a huge profit lately. It’s called Urban Ink,”