Impeccable (Zayn Malik AU)

viii. A Perfect Portrait

♡ Odette's POV ♡

The next day Zayn had told me he didn't have any lessons or conferences to attend to as the prince of the vast Malik Empire, so he had requested for me to meet him in his drawing room. It was a lazy day, and I decided to just go to his room in my sweatpants and t-shirt I had worn to bed, considering everyone else around the manor seemed to be doing the same.

I had to ask Falene where Zayn's drawing room was, and Falene pointed me in the correct direction after joking the young prince always spent his time there, and if he spent half as much time studying as he did drawing, he would be the greatest ruler in the Empire's history.

I entered the room quietly, not wanting to disturb Zayn if he was busy working on something. I found him standing in front of a wall, several spray paint cans resting by his feet. He was wearing a faded blue t-shirt and dirty jeans, old paint stains splattered on the denim in several places along his legs. Music was playing in the background, a variety of genres playing on an old radio, ranging from classical to old rock songs. A lime green can was held in his hand, ready to be used for his masterpiece that was just starting.

I personally didn't see anything extraordinary that stuck out to me right away, then again Zayn was just starting his artwork. Several lines of neon spray paint had already been painted onto the smooth wall, and Zayn was about to spray the green paint when I accidentally tripped over some spare spray paint cans behind him.

Zayn jumped slightly, turning around to find me fixing the now scattered cans. He sighed in relief before laughing at my clumsiness.

"You ok? I didn't hear you come in." He managed to speak among his fit of laughter, my cheeks burning red from embarrassment.

"Y-yeah, I'm good." I mumbled, and Zayn held his hand out to me, an offer I graciously accepted as I let him pull me towards him so we both stood in front of his painted wall. Zayn tilted his head to the side, the sight the epitome of a hardworking artist scrutinizing his work.

"It's looks good so far." I made a lame attempt to cheer him up, but he only bit his lip in thought before nodding.

"Yeah, it's a good start." He mumbled before setting down his paint can on the ground. He wiped some paint that had accidentally got onto his hands on his jeans, causing me to frown.

"You shouldn't do that, you just ruined a pair of perfectly good jeans." I scolded him, causing him to laugh and roll his eyes.

"Okay, Mom. Do you want me to make my bed while I'm at it too?" Zayn teased, and it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"Be quiet, I have a reason to scold you." I muttered. "You ruined your jeans."

Zayn only chuckled. "I have a reason to make fun of you too. I am the prince."

I sighed in frustration. He won.

"Why did you want me here anyways?" I remembered what Falene told me. Zayn smiled before practically skipping over to something covered in a sheet in a corner of the room. He pulled on the sheet, lifting it off and tossing it to the side to reveal a pure white canvas and wooden easel, paints and pencils placed in a tiny bucket by it.

"I wanted to create a portrait of you." He answered with a soft smile on his face. It was a look that rivaled how cartoon princes would stare at their princess, one of admiration and sweetness.

"That's sweet, you don't have to." I told him politely, but he shook his head.

"Everyone in the family has a painting of them except you. I thought I would add to our collection."

Zayn began to get his supplies ready, setting up his work space so it would be perfect once he started his creative process. I stood aimlessly in the center of the room, feeling quite awkward with nothing to do.