Twelve: Cooking & Rooms
“Pass me the curry”, Zayn asked not long time later in the spacious kitchen. The house seemed utterly dead since everyone was locked up in their room either sleeping, resting or watching something on the TV.
Giving him the curry I continued cooking the rice with raisins and in sliced cut carrots while he added the curry to the chicken. I must admit, we were a pretty good team when it came to cooking. Zayn being a good, decent cook was the last thing I expected. It just didn’t add up to the image of him I had in my mind. Maybe I had to get to know him better and give him a chance.
“Tell me about you”, he suddenly said while still busy with his chicken. He looked and like a professional and to be honest it also smelled as if a professional was cooking here.
“There isn’t really much to tell”, I shrugged. I was a really boring person.
I saw him smiling from the corner of my eyes. Why was he smiling? He should smile more often. It suited him and his bone structure.
“How about you start with your full name and age?”, he suggested. Why did he need to know?
“Okay, well, I’m Arisha Maleeha Dia and I’m 19 years old, what about you?”, I returned the question to him.
Finally he turned my way letting the chicken cook properly. There was still this soft smile hidden in his sharp features. He rubbed the stubble on his jaw with his fingers roughly.
“I like your name”, he said. “I’m Zayn Jawaad Malik and I’m 21 years old. I currently am working in my dad’s business and plan on taking it over one day”
That explains the huge mansion and the fancy furniture.
“I just got out of high school last year and now I’m trying to orientate myself somehow. I have no idea what my fortes are” In other words, I’m a jobless looser.
“Are you serious?”, he asked and I was surprised by his reaction.
“About what?”, I questioned back irritated.
“You do have fortes. For example you’re a great cook, very resilient and fairly obliging. And also you’re great with kids”, he explained as if it was so obvious and I was just too blind to see.
“And what job could be the right one now?”, I asked him.
“Well, for example, a secretary, a kindergartener or a cook”, he replied.
“No way, I’m not good with strangers” He laughed throwing his head back.
“Okay, well then secretary. Also makes a decent amount of income” I thought about it for a while. He did have a point.
“And where should I submit an application?”
“We’ll think about that”, he promised before turning back to his chicken. He seemed so into it.
After about ten minutes later when we both came to an end the whole family gathered around the table that I had already set, as if on cue. I wondered if they purposefully stayed in their rooms to give us some time. I’d trust them to do that.
“Mhh this smells delicious”, Uncle Yaser praised our meal and immediately got himself a portion.
I noticed Zayn looking towards me in a way that said “we made it”. He looked so proud of it, it was so cute to watch.
“We should let cook you two more often”, Trisha joked and I laughed along.
This time I was sitting next to Zayn and Safaa was sitting across from me. It felt nice feeling the warmth radiating from his body and the nice perfume he was wearing made me a bit dizzy. In a good way.
“Why aren’t you eating, darling?”, he suddenly whispered close to my ear waking me up from my thoughts. Darling.
“I am”, I answered back, smiling reassuringly. Taking a spoon full of rice and chicken I put it in my mouth carefully with the feeling of being watched. I hated that feeling.
Luckily the meal ended soon and I got ready to work on the dishes. Washing them shortly and then putting them into the empty dishwasher it was rather quick work. Nevertheless Zayn insisted on helping me with it. Which resulted in me washing the large things like the cooking pots and Zayn placing the smaller items in the dishwasher.
We barely talked but yet Zayn made sure to ‘accidentally’ touch my hand from time to time.
“Come with me to my room”, he requested while taking my hand and softly pulling me with him after the kitchen was presentably clean. My heart jumped in excitement and I jogged a bit to keep up with him.
“Wait, Zayn, I’ll just take a quick shower and come to your room then, okay?”
He thought about it and then nodded quickly before showing me where his room was so I could find it after my shower. Turned out his room was just right next to mine.
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Shyly I nodded n the wooden door after I put on some fresh pair of traditional clothes, my hair in a high ponytail. I might’ve even put on some mascara and concealer and maybe even some lip gloss.
Although there was no reason to try so hard. It was just Zayn.
The man I was going to marry in 2 weeks.
There was no going back.
Not long after he opened the door dressed in some black skinny jeans and a muscle tee. And damn, he literally took the muscle in muscle tee serious.
But what caught my interest more than his decent bicep were his large amount of body colourings aka tattoos.
“Come in”, he said giving me space to enter the room and look around. It was an ordinary room with some posters hanging around here and there and some family pictures decorating his nightstand and dresser.
“Take a seat on the bed, darling”, he offered and I gladly took the offer and placed my bum on the sheets of his unmade bed.
This should be interesting.
authors note:
Hi everyone.
Third update in 2015 and it's like the 5th of January. I like just updated yesterday.
Everyone be proud of me ok.
Dedicated to FiyonaPray bc she and her Fanfic is literally all the reason for Sugar Coat so go love her and read her story ok.
So tell me how you like and comment, vote, share etc etc etc u know the drill guys.
Love you aaaaaall, bella x
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Sugar Coat ➳zayn malik
FanfictionArisha and Zayn's slightly different love story. Rish, short for Arisha, 19 years old, passionately anti-social and ridiculously shy. Zayn as in Zayn Malik, 21 years old, strangely mysterious and abnormally teasing. Will that match work out? ©MCMAL...