#Stopped# Life Of The College Hotties... [ A One Direction AU FanFic ]

Chapter 28 (Part Two): Hot Chocolates and Marsh Mellows.

★ LIFE OF THE COLLEGE HOTTIES ★

Chapter 28: [Part Two]

“Hot Chocolate and Marsh Mellows.”

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Kelly’s Point Of View:

I groaned out loud, staring intently at the clue as if it would tell me all there is to know, but to no avail. I kept running my mind through all our memories, memories of Zayn and me, how we have been together all these years...

The thing I love, reminds me of you,

The place you once told me you love me too,

It started off as a hobby,

But you were my inspiration.

Call me sappy,

But you're my mode of ... respiration?

Okay.... so by far all I know I need to remember is; what does he love and reminds him of me? And I've told him I love him too almost everywhere already, so how could I remember that specific moment that he is hinting towards? Ugh! Alright let’s start over…

Well his hobby, well, which I know of, is art. I swear if he is talking about something like watching p0rn then this will be his last breathing day!

But that’s not my Zayn, no… He loves to draw me, he literally has murals of me in my art room, I giggle softy at the beloved memory of him telling me to stand or sit in a specific pose everytime he was in the mood or he found me and I quote, 'So beautiful that somebody has to capture this moment in a sketch and keep it with them forever… absolutely precious.'

That's when everything started to click...

Started off as a hobby... I was his inspiration ... He does love me... and he always claims the mural he made of mine the morning after we lost our… virginity, as his favorite and It will always remind him of us...

Holy bejeezus I know it!

I swear I must’ve never run with so much adrenalin before in my entire existence like how I am running towards my balcony. Don't ask me why I had put up that picture on the wall beside my balcony, but I did. It was honestly just the way the sun rising and setting made these shades appear on his canvas, like it all was coming to life.

As I reached nearer to the canvas, I could see a sort of yellow post-it sticking out from behind the beautiful painting of me, lying on my bed with those familiar sheets covering my intimate parts, leaning on the palm of my left hand as the same arm is keeping my head above the pillow, my other hand placed by my side as I lovingly stare at the painter. He has almost half a sketch book filled with sketches from that very day kept away at his house, promising me that I could see them when the time is right.

I pluck the post it from behind the canvas, smiling as I read the small note:

You always find it where you look for it last,

I have lost something precious of mine,

And I need you to tell me if you have it.

 

Meet me at the roof where we were caught by your sister,

If you remember the exact spot…

You can keep what is lost.”

 

Seriously? He is accusing me of stealing something? I hope he knows what he is talking about. Wasn’t this supposed to be his forgiveness?