Believing in love...Again (A Zayn Malik story)

Chapter 6: Hello, Shortcake

RASHEL:

Was I crazy? What the hell was wrong with me? Did I just ask Zayn Malik, as in The Zayn Malik to stay at my place for two freaking months? What the hell got over me? What made me do that? Moreover, why did he agree?

Man, I was surprised when I realized that the guy who had found my getaway was Zayn Malik. Even more, his story was kind of hard to believe, but it was true. He saw my tweet and he liked the idea. Ok, hold on, this isn’t a freaking movie! This just doesn’t happen in real life. How was this even possible? How was it that I was walking the streets of Wentworth with Zayn Malik walking next to me? But you know what was weird? I liked it! I freaking liked it! Not in a fan kinda way, more than that. I was happy that I met Zayn Malik, even if I met just an hour ago. I had worshiped the ground he walked on for three years. But this was more than that. This feeling I had was something different. I honestly felt that I had a connection with him, something more than just fangirling that connected me to him. Maybe it was because he was broken. Maybe because when I look into his eyes, I see myself. Maybe it was because when I hear his voice it reminds me of my emotionless self. I knew what had happened and I didn’t dare ask him anything about that. Zayn Malik was broken and he looked it.

‘How long?’ I heard hid hoarse voice as if he had been trying to control his tears. Man, I loved his voice and to listen to this voice was a punch in the gut.

‘About ten minutes more.’ I replied. We once again fell into companionable silence. I had a feeling that he wanted to say something more, but I didn’t ask him. We walked for a few more minutes before I found myself standing in front of the mansion.

‘Man, you weren’t kidding when you said your place is big!’ Zayn said and I jumped on the inside when I realized that his voice sounded amused, not dead.

‘You thought I was?’ I asked with a playful hint in my voice.

Man, what the hell was happening? I was being nice to him. I am impolite, I am rude. I don’t do nicely talking to guys. I hate guys. Why was I talking nicely to him? Yeah, he was Zayn Malik, but at the end of the day, he was a guy. But no matter how hard I tried to be rude to him, I couldn’t find it in me to hate him. He was shattered; the least I could do was behave nicely with him. That’s what I told to convince myself. Somewhere deep in my broken heart, I knew that I was damn glad that I met Zayn Malik.

The two of us got inside the huge gate and walked up to the front porch. I fumbled for the keys in my pockets before I finally found it, opened the door and got inside with Zayn right at my heel. That’s when I noticed the suitcase he dragged behind him. I switched on the lights of living room only to see Zach passed out on the couch. He must’ve fallen asleep waiting for me.

‘That’s Zach.’ I told him as I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen.

‘You guys live here alone?’ Zayn asked. I just nodded.

‘You can take any of the room you want except for the one at the end of hallway and the one next to it. Those are mine and Zach’s’ I explained to him as I threw him the bottle. He caught it expertly and I smirked at him. I was surprised at how comfortable I was around him.

‘I’ll take anyone.’ Zayn said and I am sure my face fell at his voice.

‘How about the other one at the end of hallway? It’s quite good.’ I said and he just nodded.

‘Do you need any help or anything else?’ I asked and surprised myself at how easy it was for me to be good to him. I didn’t even have to try.

‘No, I am good.’ He said.

‘Ok then, I’ll just go, I am tired.’ I replied.

‘Is he going to sleep here?’ Zayn said pointing towards Zach.