See My Demons (Zarry AU)

Chapter 3

He hadn't noticed him yet. Harry was sitting toward the front, his back to Zayn, his head down. Zayn noted his black shirt with white hearts all over it looked stupid before he took a seat at a table toward the back.

He was sure Harry hated art. Every time Zayn made a watercolor piece in elementary school, or doodled something elaborate in his notebooks, Harry was there telling him art was stupid and that his drawings were awful. Not that he ever took him seriously. He'd learned years ago that Harry was just full of shit, trying to get a reaction out of the other male. But he hadn't known Zayn would be in this class, or maybe he had, either way he was convinced he was there just to drive him crazy.

"You okay?" A female voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Zayn glanced over, seeing a blonde haired, blue eyed girl had sat down beside him. She was familiar, he knew he'd seen her around school before. He vaguely thought she might be on the cheer squad.

"Yeah, m'fine."

"You just looked a little... constipated or something, for a moment there." She giggled and Zayn couldn't help but suppress a smile, pressing his lips together.

"No definitely not. Just.. Um, thinking." Zayn mentally slapped himself for sounding so awkward, but he wasn't prepared to talk to someone he didn't know on the first day of class.

"Well, Mr. thinker. I'm Perrie." She held her hand out with a warm smile.

"Zayn. Nice to meet you," He took her hand with a small smile, letting go after a brief moment.

Something about her seemed inviting. Maybe it's the fact she wasn't shy about talking to him. That she wasn't awkward at all, like he was. There's an ease about her and Zayn liked that, he feels comfortable like when he's around Liam. Someone he's known for years.

He opened his backpack and pulled out his sketchbook, along with a pen and pencil. The pages of the book are tattered, clearly worn from constant use. This book in particular was newer, his others filled out and stacked on a shelf in his bedroom. The first sketchbook he'd ever received was when he was 7 years old. His parents, his mother in particular, had noticed his love for art. Zayn would constantly draw with his crayons, whether it be on the walls or on the bills that would be laid out on the coffee table. Both instances made his parents want to rip their hair out, but it opened their eyes to the fact their son clearly had a niche.

Zayn's father never quite approved of his artistic obsession, preferring he focus on school and religion. But his mother loved that her son had an unique outlet, so she'd supported him ever since she gifted him that small little sketchbook.

"Hello class," A loud booming voice filled the room as a tall man entered. "Hopefully you've all talked amongst yourselves. Let's condense the tables, shall we?" He waved his hands, gesturing for those sitting at sparse tables to fill the others.

Zayn's eyes immediately landed on Harry, who was standing up with his backpack in hand. 'Not here, not here' He found himself pleading. He decided to avert his eyes to his sketchbook, flipping it open to start doodling.

"Wow. Your drawings are seriously beautiful." Perrie commented from beside him, leaning over to see the sketch of a lion he had on the page. It had geometric features framing it, around its face.

"Than-" Zayn started to reply before he was properly cut off.

"They're pretty mediocre, actually."

Zayn shut his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth before he glanced up from behind his thick lashes. There he was. The demon himself, sitting across from him and Perrie with a smug half smirk planted on his face. He was looking at Zayn, head slightly tilted as if to say, Wanna have a go?

"Are you blind?" Perrie scoffed, her brows raising.

"Are you? No wonder you're in this class, you apparently need as much education about art as you can get." Harry rolled his eyes, turning in his seat so he was somewhat facing the front of the room, ending the conversation.

Zayn could tell Perrie was fuming, her face turning a dark shade of pink. He couldn't help but smile, pressing his lips together. It wasn't often someone would stand up for him against Harry, usually he would do that, and then it would end up in a huge argument where they were almost at each other's throats.

"Don't worry about it. He's always been like that." He assured her.

"Like what? An asshole?" She all but snapped, shaking her head before pushing her hair over her shoulder.

All he could do was shrug, because well... yeah, like an asshole. And he didn't want to talk about Harry anymore, he was ready to focus on art. He all but wanted to cheer when the teacher told everyone to hush as he started the class.