paint · ziam au

v

{New cover made by @Fakezain. She's a really cool kid and she did an amazing job with it. So this chapter is dedicated to her :D }
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(words: 1.883)

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Zayn Malik slowly blinked his eyes open, they were heavy, sticky and his vision was very blurry.

He was surrounded by white soft fabrics, his head laid on a fluffy pillow, giving his aching neck a relaxing break.

His whole body felt pain, especially on his legs, his feet were also numb. His hands were cold and his teeth clattered.

That's when a wave of confusion hit him:

Where the hell was he?

He slowly sat up, resting himself on his forearms as he looked around the room with a frown on his face. He brought his hand up to run his fingers through his messy black hair, but regretting it when they had gotten themselves tangled in the knotted mess. He groaned and placed his hand on the side of his head, rubbing the area that was thumping harshly.

He didn't understand, he was so confused. More than he should be. Was that normal?

Zayn sat up completely, bringing his arms out in front of him. He traced every tattoo with his eyes, wondering the meanings of them. He doesn't remember when or where he had got them done, he just had them there, they brought no specific meaning to him at the moment.

And that frightened him.

With a gulp, he slowly got off the unfamiliar bed, groaning because of the pain that shot through his legs. He rubbed his arms and hands, which were freezing as he walked around the room, looking around, hoping to find something that was familiar to him.

Then he suddenly stopped in front of the mirror, his face going pale and his heart rate quickening.

He slowly brought his hand up to touch his face, watching every move from his reflection. He traced every detail on his face, his nose, his bruised jaw, his cheeks.

He was trying to figure it out, he was trying so hard, but that seemed to make his headache even more unbearable.

Who was he?

Well, he obviously knew his face, he knows how he looks like. But he didn't know who he really was.

His name didn't pop up in to his mind, he doesn't recall his age, he doesn't know where he is.

Zayn was frightened, trying to remember every detail. But the only thing that came to mind was... nothing. It was all in white, everything about him felt so foreign, he couldn't remember his last hair cut, his last meal, the person he had talked to. Fuck, he doesn't even remember his very own last name.

It all scared him so much, he doesn't even know his own identity, which made Zayn feel a hole burn in to his heart.

He took a step closer to the mirror, his heart racing and his breathing starting to go through his mouth.

It starts with a 'M', doesn't it? He thought, trying to remember his very own name. No, wait; it starts with the very last letter of the alphabet. He placed his hand on the side of mirror, ducking his down as he closed his eyes, softly singing the alphabet. "A, b, c, d, e, f-" He stopped, his eyes shooting wide open.

What's after 'f'?

He stood straight, looking at his horrified face in the mirror. He fist clenched closed as he closed his eyes again "A, b, c, d, e, f... p" He shook his head; That wasn't right.