TEA$ERS

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Zayn's POV.

"Here we are," I grunt, shoving the door open so that we can both step inside.

Her small, green eyes widen in surprise as she takes in the spacious apartment. Condo was more like it.

The place was pretty big; not humungous where it didn't look cozy though. It was painted black in some places, red in others, and looked more of like a damn funeral home then an actual apartment to me. A fire place took up the far wall, surrounded by my sofa and plasma which was settled on the wall. The whole house smells like garbage to me- a mixture of beer and weed, but it didn't seem to bother her.

"You're place is great." She says, removing her jacket and setting it on the edge of my recliner.

"You think?" I ask her, my hand scratching the back of my neck. Honestly, I was worried about bringing her here. Normally when I bring girls here I don't care if there's shit on the floor. Half the time we're both too drunk to notice if there's anything there anyways. And besides, by the time we're both in the bedroom, the living room is the last thing on our minds.

I wonder what's on Rylee's mind.

What is she thinking? Is she thinking about what I've done here? Why it smells like shit? Why I'm so careless to keep up with it?

A frown covers her face, and her petite nose wrinkles. She probably can see my paranoia.

I really need a new apartment.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I shake my head, "I just didn't know if this place would freak you out or something."

She laughs. I love when she laughs. It's contagious, and it doesn't get annoying after a while like some other laughs I've heard before.

"No, I'm not freaked out by it. It feels," She looks around again, as in taking the space all in for good measure. "Homey."

That wasn't the word I'd use to describe it.

"What's this room?" She asks me, spotting a room a few doors down. It's closed, and the minute she opens it; releases the heavy paint fumes. She coughs for a moment, her eyes watering from the smell.

"Shit, you alright? Want me to get you some water?"

She shakes her head, and I hand her my face mask from the corner of the room before I am able to relax. She accepts it gratefully.

"But uh, this is like my graffiti room. I kinda just decided that I wanted to spray-paint the walls. And nobody can tell me I can't."

"Can't your landlord tell you that?" She says, and I can see the hint of a smile from behind the mask.

"Nah, he gave up telling me what to do 10-some parties ago."

She frowns again, and I mentally kick myself. Why did I remind her how much of a screw up I am?

Not that she hasn't already noticed.

She hesitantly walks around the perimeter of the room, careful not to knock anything over, as her eyes scan around the walls.

"I can't believe you did all of this." She mumbles. "You're really good."

"I wouldn't say that."

She's silent, still taking in the paintings. I painted anything and everything that my mind would allow. It wasn't destructive, or some crazy ass shit that people like Gabe do to blow off steam, but it was enough to make me feel somewhat normal.