Incomprehensible [Zayn]

Chapter 20

AS MUCH AS I HATED to admit it, Zayn looked pretty damn good when he was concentrating hard. I wasn't usually the type of girl who sat hiding behind a book, trying to casually peer at a guy over the top of it - and yet there I was doing exactly that, my eyes glued on the vampire who had crushed me in so many ways within a few miserable hours.

The book I had quickly chosen to read was the classic novel - The Three Muskateers by  Alexandre Dumas, and for once, the words didn't interest me in the slightest - the vampire did; the vampire who was frowning at his painting before him, desperately trying to get the details as perfect as he could.

I found myself fascinated by the sight of a creature so deadly and dangerous, that was becoming frustrated over something as intricate and beautiful as a painting. I would have thought that the whole interest in art would have been another lie to try and make his plan see through - clearly I had been wrong about that one. Zayn was clearly engrossed in his work, mixing paint with water and brush before streaking the bright colours against the rough material of the canvas over and over again. 

I slowly tucked my hair behind my ear as I continued to watch him over the top of the hardback novel, my knees pulled up, under my chin as far as they would go. I was sitting on a little window seat covered in plush green cushions which had been hidden behind the curtains. From where I sat, I could watch the never changing weather outside.

The rain still hadn't stopped pouring down, and the grey clouds hadn't stopped gathering in the night sky. Ha, I thought to myself as I watched a drop of water trail down the glass, both myself and the weather are miserable.

I let out a sigh as I heard Zayn groan in, what I assumed, was frustration. I continued to watch as he bit his bottom lip and twirled the paintbrush between his fingers, eyes narrowed at the incomplete creation in front of him. Just when I thought he was going to turn and reach for the tub of water, his eyes met mine and I quickly looked away and outside into the rain once again, my heart beating faster than regular.

It was ridiculous how much Zayn frightened me, even after he said he wasn't going to kill me.

Yet, a voice whispered in the back of my mind and I scrunched my eyes shut at the taunting tone. I still shuddered at the thought of Zayn towering over me, fangs bared, eyes wild and animal like as he prepared to lunge forward and rip my throat out. I leaned my head against the cool glass, releasing a sigh of which I had no idea I had been holding as my eyes scanned the road between my home and the house in which I was being held captive in. If only there were a way that I could get across the street . . .

 "What's your favourite colour?"

I frowned when I heard the voice ask the simple yet slightly random question. I was sure that he had already asked me that exact question once before, back when we were first starting to know each other. Well, that had been what I'd thought at the time. Not wanting to anger him or put myself in any more danger, I took a deep breath before I answered.

"Blue." I said, keeping it short.

Zayn nodded at my answer and bit his lip once again before he continued to colour the canvas. I watched as he scowled at the piece of art and lean over to grasp the small tub of dirty water. Before anything more could be said or done, he was gone - nowhere in sight.