The art of love | ziam!het au✔️

49 | The Art of Love

His eyes scanned the huge crowd as he stood in the corner of the big room with different art displays, his heart beating a mile per second as he continued to chew on his bottom lip. His hands were shaking and sweating and his mind was racing. His lips curled into a small smile as he looked at the amount of people, still not over the fact that she wasn't there to see him up here.

A soft sigh left him, his eyes landing on a particular ring he was wearing tonight, something he now uses for luck. "Zayn?" The dark haired man lifted his head up once he heard his mothers soft voice, a small smile sneaking upon his lips.

"Hey mum." He said, watching as the woman walked up to him. "How are you doing, sweetheart?" She asked him with a soft smile, fixing the collar of his dress shirt once she noticed it was a little out of place.

"I'm nervous." Zayn admitted, looking down at his hands. Trisha sighed st him, lifting his chin up with two fingers. "She'd be proud of you, if she were still here sweetie." She assured him, knowing exactly that he wasn't just feeling nervous.

"I– i know. I just, really miss her. This doesn't feel as special as I thought it would be." He looked down at his mother with sadness written in his hazel eyes, Trisha missing the way they used to be so bright. She gently placed her hand on his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. "I know honey, I know. I miss her too." She spoke, smiling a little. "But she would want you to make it special. Remember, you are doing this for the both of you m. Whether you know it or not, but she's with you."

Zayn nodded his head gently, smiling softly at his mother. "You think so?"

"I know so." He chuckled at his mothers grin, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Thank you," he started, "for everything."

"Sweetheart, I am your mother, you don't have to thank me for this. I'm thankful to have such a charming, caring son like you. It's my job to make you feel better again. And we're all here for you." Trisha released a chuckle herself, running her fingers through her eldest sons growing hair.

Inhaling a deep breath, Zayn's gaze diverted back up to the stage where the announcer was just saying his name, suddenly being pushed towards the small stairs that led up. "Time to shine, honey." Trisha smiled widely at her son with a wink following after, the young man slightly stumbling up the stairs. He sent his mother a playful glare, clearing his throat as he felt all the attention now being on him.

He smiled at the young woman when she handed gun the microphone, taking yet another deep breath.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen." Zayn greeted the crowd with a nervous smile, using his thumb to fiddle with the rings on the other hand. "My name is Zayn Malik. You may have heard about me or seen my work around the world..." He said slowly, biting his bottom lip before looking over at Adan and Natasha who were motioning him to continue.

He immediately looked back straight ahead, clearing his throat once more. "Tonight, i have the honor of showing you my biggest creation that even I was surprised of when I finally finished it. But it wasn't the art that surprised me, it was the meaning behind. And I'm really honored and grateful that mister Williams allowed me to place it here in his gallery." The British man smiled gratefully at the older man in the back of the room who rose his champagne glass at him with an encouraging smile and a small nod while his arm was wrapped around his wife's waist.

"And I am happy to present it and show it to you. Especially, the Payne's and my family who have traveled miles just to be here to support me." Zayn sent a smile their way, his mother blowing him a kiss and grinning widely at her son.

The man inhaled a deep breath once
More as he looked back at the crowd, his free hand grabbing the cover which was over the giant canvas and turning his gaze to his friends before pulling it off.