Ziam One Shots [hiatus]

ii. vintage

The vintage store is where Zayn felt safe.

He loved the musty smell of the records, the small blemishes on the jewelry and the marks on the clothes, because that showed that everything had a story.

Everything.

Zayn formed a game during his shifts when he got bored. He would pick up a record, or a jacket, or a bracelet, and could imagine the background behind it.

A record that had been played at every family dinner for decades. A bracelet that had grown too small for a teenager's wrist. A jacket that had been given as a Christmas gift and worn forever until they couldn't anymore.

Zayn wasn't very interested in people. Especially teenagers and boys and girls his age. They were loud, judgemental, and harsh in their movements and words. The store, in itself, was like a time capsule. It was quiet and peaceful, and the people coming and going through it were normally older folk, who were slower in their step, softer in their words, and happier in their eyes.

But there was one boy his age that Zayn couldn't get off his mind.

Liam Payne.

The boy checked in at six foot three and one hundred and eighty pounds of lean muscle. Zayn only memorized this information because he kind of has a crush on Liam, and won't ever admit it even though his best mate Louis has figured it out and harps on about it for ages.

Zayn had never spoken to the boy; he had no idea Liam knew he even existed. But for all he knew, Liam could have been sitting right underneath his nose inside the store and Zayn wouldn't notice, because he would be too absorbed with ordering the records of The Beatles for the hundredth time.

It was sometime in November when Zayn obtained the keys to the store, and started his shift for three hours after opening. He shakily unlocked the door, adjusting his glasses and stuffing the keys into his pockets, closing the door behind him.

He went into the back room, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on one of the brass hooks on the wall. He then attached his nametag to his sweater, rolling up the sleeves to show his new tattoos he'd gotten the other day, ran a hand through his hair, and exited.

He flipped the sign to OPEN and turned on the lights, making his way over to the stack of CDs he needed to order.

Two hours passed, and Zayn took a break from CDs to play his game. He picked up a shiny Lorde CD and rubbed his finger across his, smelling the permanent scent of perfume coming off of the front.

"21 years old. Donated because she didn't appreciate the gift. Gucci perfume. Must be from uptown," Zayn muttered to himself. He went for an Arctic Monkeys CD when he heard a car purr down the street.

Zayn jumped, whipping his head up. A shiny black car with suspiciously tinted windows and racing stripes along the sides had parked next to the curb in front of his store. A door opened, and the first thing Zayn saw was a red Jordan sneaker.

Zayn's heartbeat sped up, adrenaline pumping through his system. Zayn knew exactly who it was. He'd seen that shoe exit the school, the swimming pool, and practically everywhere Zayn looked.

Liam.

Sure enough, in scruffy black jeans and a black leather jacket popped out Liam Payne. He fixed his hair, replacing his black snapback and shutting the car door, locking it as he went. Zayn's head went straight down to the Arctic Monkeys CD that was trembling in his hands as he heard bells ring, the door opening and closing.

He heard footsteps across the linoleum, and it felt like Zayn's senses had been enhanced to hear, see, and feel every movement Liam made. He placed the CD next to the previous Lorde CD, and squeaked as he felt a pressure on his forearm.

He glanced up, and came face-to-face with deep brown eyes. Stubble lined his jawbone, which happened to be so sharp Zayn could've gotten a paper cut on it. He smiled kindly, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

"Um, I'm here to get a gift for my, ah, aunt. Do you happen to have any cute jewelry?" Liam asked, removing his snapback and scratching the back of his head. Zayn was so focused on the movement of his bright red lips that he almost didn't register the question.

"What? Oh, yeah. It's over at the glass counter, over here," Zayn said quickly, internally smacking himself at his stupidity. He adjusted his glasses and walked over to the counter, resting his knuckles on the clear glass, feeling the cold seep into his skin and calm him down.

The two boys began to compare different bracelets when Liam paused. "You know, the only reason I asked for jewelry was because it gave me an excuse to talk to you," he said absentmindedly, turning a silver cuff over in his hands.

Zayn froze, and it felt like the world and even time had done the same. He stared into Liam's massive brown eyes, hearing the words he just spoke replay over and over in his ears.

"Wh-What?" Zayn stuttered, the world unfreezing and Liam smiling at him, as if he'd just complimented his jumper color or something. "Yeah, erm...I actually don't have an aunt to get a gift for. I just needed an excuse to talk to the hot cashier at the retro store," Liam admitted, winking cheekily.

Zayn smiled slightly. "U-Um..." he stuttered, looking down at the velvet box he was turning in his hands through his nerves. He felt a pressure underneath his chin, lifting his face up and holy shit Liam's eyes were so close oh Jesus-

"You're so gorgeous," Liam whispered, and suddenly they were kissing, and Zayn had never had a feeling like this before because he would have remembered making out with someone like Liam goddamn Payne and biting his lip and tugging on his hair and having Liam everywhere around him-

And then they broke apart, Liam's fit chest breathing hard. Zayn's half-lidded eyes from the adrenaline-charged kiss was enough to make Liam smile goofily, like the lovestruck ass he was.

Yes, they did kiss some more, and there may have been phone numbers exchanges and Liam may or may not have gotten Zayn to go to the movies with him, and now he has an excuse to go inside the dusty vintage store that Zayn seemed to adore so much.

And Liam was fine with that. Because he needed someone old-fashioned, someone who could keep him grounded, someone who was cute and hot and a cashier at a quaint little shop down in the older part of Wolverhampton.

Someone like Zayn.

xx

daww. sorry, that was probably a bad ending, but I've been having severe vintage!Zayn feels and yeah. enjoy my Ziam frustrations.

cloud xx