He's No Good - Zayn Malik

Chapter 69: Love

It's chapter 69 ;)
*laughs uncontrollably* 
Yeah.. so you might wanna close your eyes if you're sensitive

Btw I made the cover less colorful - do you like it or should I change it back?


And I love the weird stuff you comment on things lol
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- "Can we like go somewhere today?" he mutters, standing with a little bottle of pills in his hand, squinting his eyes to read the label on the side. "I mean if you don't wanna go back to school? You can still make it - or like the last period,"  He glances at the black clock above the fridge. It's almost 12 already and we've only just eaten breakfast. 

- "Sure. No it's fine," I say, and he nods and unscrews the lid of the bottle. I haven't been sick at all this year so far and I'd much rather spend the day with Zayn.
And it's probably best not to leave him all alone with only his own thoughts on a day like this.

"What are those?" I nod at the pills, hopping up on the kitchen counter and Zayn glances at me and reaches for a glass, and opens the tap to fill it with water.

- "My therapist - you know back then - suggested that I can take these to make me relax when my stress and anxiety level gets overloaded or shit. But like I just took coke though, worked fine," he shrugs, and opens the bottle, pouring two or three, maybe four pills into his open palm before swallowing them with his glass of water.

- "Might as well try them you know?" he says, and can't help but snort at how careless he is, it's quite funny in a wicked way, how he couldn't care less about his health when it comes to stuff like that. 

- "Did it say on the bottle that you should take more than one?" I ask gaining a chuckle from him, an amused glint in his eyes for the first time today since he got the news.

- "I've taken drugs that are a lot harder than these, Zoe. I'll be fine," he replies with a shrug, before gulping down the rest of the water, and I can't help but roll my eyes at his completely careless attitude even though I know he's probably right.

- "So where are we going?" I ask and glance out the window, and at the now almost blue sky that was covered by a heavy layer of clouds just an hour ago.


- "I don't know. Like we could drive into town and grab lunch at a café or something?" he suggests, and I nod. "And if it's not too boring for you, I've been thinking about a new tattoo, like if you would like to how it's done?" he leans back against the kitchen counter next to where I'm sitting, raising his eyebrows. 

- "Today?" I say, glancing at him. It would actually be cool to see how it works, and how much it hurts and stuff.  He nods. "What are you getting?" 

He rolls up his left sleeve, revealing his bicep which is more or less free of ink.
- "I was thinking I want a tiger here," he smirks and I nod. Of course you do. "Are you up for it then?" he raises his eyebrows.

- "Sure," 

- "Good, 'cause I already made the appointment," he chuckles. "I'm getting half of it done today and the other half some other time," 

**

- "Doesn't it hurt!?" I ask, for maybe the fifth time already, the sort of shady looking tattoo guy chuckling and shaking his head at me, his green eyes fixed on the little almost half finished tiger on Zayn's arm.

It's quite impressive though.

- "It's alright," Zayn says, not showing any pain either. But it simply can't not be painful. The guy is drawing on your arm with a fucking needle. 

- "Looks like it," I say, studying how red the skin around the already finished parts of the tattoo is. 

- "We're almost done," the guy, Matt or something, says and tilts his head in concentration and I nod and look around at all the motives and drawings and cartoon that covers the walls in the shop. It's quite cool actually, and I can't help but notice how Zayn fits right in here. Surrounded by art. Various types of sculls and flower-like designs, quotes and strange symbols.

"There," the guy wipes off Zayn's skin with a paper towel and wraps his arm up with plastic wrap. "You coming down sometime next week yeah?" 

- "Yeah. Thanks mate," Zayn and I get up from our chairs and Zayn puts on his leather jacket on top of the plastic wrapping and gives the guy a firm handshake before we leave the tattoo parlor again.

- "So now what, are we going home?" he takes my hand as we walk to his car, parked further down the street outside the café we ate lunch at earlier. 

- "I guess," I agree and he gives me bright smile when I let his wrap his comforting arm around my shoulder and I lean into him as we walk down the empty street. It's crazy how soon it starts to get dark now, and how much the temperature has dropped as well.