Turning Pages (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Sixty-Five

Danielle’s POV:

“Why do ya have so many magazines and books?!” Niall tossed another book onto the bed. The pile continued to grow.

“That’s what I hoard. You hoard high-tops, white shirts, sunglasses, and snapbacks while I hoard books, magazines, shoes, and clothes.” I replied. He smirked.

“I do have a lot of white shirts…” He admitted. I laughed and shook my head. “Where do ya want to hang Libby’s painting? I’d like t’ do it before I go.”

“Out in the living room by the windows would be perfect.” I answered. I tossed random junk in the garbage can. Niall pounded nails into the wall and swore when he hit his fingers. He walked back in the bedroom sucking on his thumb.

“Man, it’s a bit tighter in here.” He kissed me on the cheek. “But I don’t mind.” He smiled.

“A lot of stuff is going in the garbage. Old khakis from working at a grocery store and faded dress pants from waitressing…”

“Just don’t throw these away!” Niall held up a pair of lacey underwear.

“Perv!” I ripped them from his hand.

“Ya love me.” He kissed my jaw. “Gotta go, babe.”

“Oh, Niall! Niall! Niall!” I did my best over-infatuated teenage girl impression as he slipped on his shoes and zipped up his coat. “Niall! Please text me! I love you, Niall!” He chuckled and winked at me.

“Later, babe.”

-

“Cat?!” I called out after I shut the front door. I heard music booming downstairs. I’ve never been downstairs.

I saw a pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter and knew she wasn’t out. I found a long staircase descending down into the basement. I turned the corner and was met with bright industrial lights and cool concrete floor with paint splatters. Large sculptures sat in one corner of the room while smaller drawings were grouped on another side. Cat stood next to an easel and tapped her foot to the beat of a loud song. Her paintbrush stroked a medium-sized canvas. Her hair was dyed a darker brown, which I found suitable to both her style and the cold winter season. She wore tight jeans and what looked like one of Zayn’s band shirts she cut and tied to fit her frame.

“Whatcha working on?!” I shouted over an increasingly loud chorus. She jumped and faced me. Cat ran over to a large stereo and turned down the volume.

“Danielle! I missed you!” She set her paintbrush down and greeted me with a hug; her hands covered in paint. “How was your trip?”

“Messy. Annoying. Said some things I shouldn’t have but there’s nothing I can do now.” We pulled out of our tight hug and Cat smiled. “Your hair! This basement!”

“I know, right?! Eleanor actually helped me pick out this color. This little art area used to be all Zayn’s but then he renovated this small corner of the room and gave it to me as a Christmas present!” Cat beamed. I understood why I bought Cat art supplies now.

“Little? This place is huge!” I eyed a sculpture of a half naked woman in the corner of the room.

“It’s fun to work down here with Zayn after he’s been working all day. I like to watch him. His shoulders eventually relax and he stops furrowing his eyebrows. He bites on his bottom lip when he’s concentrating… I thought that we were very opposite but I think we finally found common ground.” Cat’s eyes drifted off to the top left as she was thinking.

“How did Zayn know you even liked this kind of stuff?” I asked while Cat showed me around.

“I asked him the same question. He said that he saw me doodle on napkins all the time. And how I would paint stupid images with my nail polish; or how I would draw into the frost on the car windows with my finger. I always loved art. I can’t believe I never caught myself doing it. I didn’t think about it until Zayn brought it up. What a thinker.” She laughed. I glanced at a cartoon drawing on a large sketchpad. It definitely looked like something Zayn would sketch up.