The Boy In The Basement// h.s AU✅

TBITB|| XXXIII

Chapter Thirty-Three of 'The Boy In The Basement':

I turned around, startled by the familiar voice I heard on the phone a few days ago. I was being met by big, brown eyes which captivated your interest in this young lad.

He was very tall, taller then me, so that is very tall. His dark hair was styled up in a quiff. He had a set of diamond earrings in both ears, setting off another 'bad boi' look. He was very fit. He wore a simple gray t-shirt, with some fitted jeans, and black stylish boots.

So, this is Zayn Malik? Well, he defiantly looks like the artsy type, and I am so glad he isn't some old pedophile.

Zayn smiled, offering out his hand for me to take. I smiled, and extended my hand as well, firmly grasping his soft hand in mine. His hands looks rough, but they were very soft, as I just said.

"Hello, Zayn. It is a pleasure to meet you, and yes I am Alice Dawson." I said with a strong smile. Zayn and I's hands bobbed up and down as he nodded slightly with a smile. "Why, hello." he laughed. I laughed too.

His laugh was amazing as well. He, just like Harry, have one of those accents that make you want to just sit there for hours, and listen to them talk about anything. I like him, but I don't like him anymore then a friend. Hell, we aren't fully friends.

"My office is this way," Zayn moved his hand out of mine, and pointed to the left of him. I nodded as he began walking, and followed right behind him. The walls were filled with graffiti, or picture frames. Some held memories, and others held nothing but pure beauty. It was a glorious sight!

Zayn opened a door, which led to his office. This wasn't an ordinary office. It was more of a art room. And not those art rooms you find at school that are dull, and have 'unhappy' colors, it was very colorful. It made me feel welcomed, and it was home-like.

There wasn't a professional desk, but a big table in the middle of the room, made of colorful marble. It held so many accessories, such as paint, paint brushes, crayons, markers, pencils, pens, colored pencils, paper, and many more items.

I was left in awe as I looked around the room. I think I am going to enjoy the time I spend here with Zayn. I only wish Harry could come.

"So, you said you had a drawing you'd like to show me?" Zayn asked as he closed the door. I was found standing next to the big, marble table. The sunlight cascading through the big, open windows, shinned bright on the table, and the rays bounced off from the table, and hit different places in the wall.

"Uh, yes actually! I was working on it few days ago, and stopped because I wanted to see if I could improve any?" I said. Zayn nodded and walked over towards me. "I see, I see. May I see your drawing, Alice"

He was so professional. I liked it. I grabbed the piece of paper out from my back pocket, and unfolded it, creasing the fold marks. As I looked at the butterfly, my mind wandered off to Harry's chest. Then it hit me.

This was the same exact butterfly off from Harry's chest. I kind of just froze for a few seconds as I analyzed the picture, and imagined Harry's tattoo-covered chest in my mind, and began comparing the two butterflies.

"Alice? Are you okay?" asked Zayn. I snapped out of my thoughts and nodded, handing over the picture. Zayn carefully took it in his hands, and began to look over it. His dark, filled eyebrows creased together as he examined my drawing.

I was beginning to get nervous, and started biting my lip. My leg started shaking, and my right foot began to tap queitly up and down at a rapid pace. And then Zayn began smiling and nodding his head up and down.