No Matter What // Zayn Malik

Epilogue

I loved/hated this story and I want to thank you all so much for loving it, even when I didn't.

thank you.

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Epilogue.


"Zayn?" I called, bursting through the front doors with bags up and down my arms. I huffed when he didn't answer, but trudged through the house to put everything down. I smiled as I heard his music blasting from his art room. The rock and roll made his mind run wild and that was what fueled his inspiration.

I put all the groceries down on the counter and then put all the fabrics I bought on the floor. I picked up the bags of Zayn's paints and headed toward his art room. I opened the door slowly, to see my fiancé sitting criss cross applesauce in the middle of his graffiti room. A bandana was over his mouth and nose so he could still breathe along with the radio on his favorite station. I smiled at the sight. He was in his element.

"HEY, VAN GOGH," I yelled over the music, making his head shoot up.

I could tell he smiled because of the way his eyes did too. He turned the radio down and looked up at me.

"WHAT'S UP, VERSACE?"

"I got your paints."

"Oh, thanks darling," Zayn stood up and carefully walked across the room. I pulled his bandana down a little so I could kiss his lips and he smiled as I did. "Perfect."

"I got to get started on a dress so you know where to find me." I mumbled. "I probably won't have my aid on, but if you need me just kind of barge in or call my phone. It'll be on since my designs are all on there." I managed a smile. "You got that, Zayn?"

"Yeah. I won't bother you. I probably won't see you for a week. I'll have to shove crackers under the door to make sure you eat."

I laughed. "I'll come out. Don't worry. I love you."

"Love you too." He kissed my head.

"Can I see what you're doing this time?"

He nodded and took my hand with a little smile.

"I finished those silly center pieces."

"They weren't silly."

"They were before I made them look wicked."

"Which you did, I will admit."

"Thank you." He smirked. "I did something else for the wedding."

"Did you now?"

"I did." He pulled the sheet off of something in the corner of the room and I gasped at the beauty of his work.

"Zayn, this is beautiful." I said, running my hands along the sculptures curves and smooth finishes. It was a silhouette of two figures. They were both in a mid-running pose looking ready to take off. It made me smile because that's how we were. Always ready to explode and chase another dream. This sculpture symbolized what we would be doing together. We were a team.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as I hugged him tightly. "You're amazing."

"Thanks." He squeezed me gently in the middle of our hug, making my insides warm up a little. "See you at dinner." He pecked my lips and I ran off to my studio upstairs.

Our relationship wasn't like most. We weren't super clingy and always seeing each other. Most of the time we were on the go. It was always super quick kisses, especially during Fashion Week. I could barely sleep during fashion week but Zayn always calmed my nerves, because we always went to each other's shows. I could aways see him in the front row usually by one of my brothers or my mum.

My brother Ben showed up to one with his newest girlfriend Chelsea in tow. They met up while he was flying through her home town and hit it off as soon as they met. Josh was well too. He was married and had a little boy on the way.

Zayn and I were taking things slow. Our careers took a lot of time but there were some things that would never change, like how I'd always shoot him a thumbs up when he explained the meaning of his latest painting.

There was always two suitcases and two tickets. The room was for two. The seats were for two. I never went to a premiere or anything without his hand on my waist. At least we tried too.

All we knew was long periods of distance. Then long periods of love to make up for it. After five years of not seeing each other we believed the small voice in our heads that whispered, 'They waited five years for me. They still loved me. They always will.'

Being deaf certainly wasn't easy. It had always been a struggle but Zayn taught me to embrace my quirks. There was nothing wrong with being deaf. It simply meant I had to listen harder. But I definitely saw more than the average person.

I am weak in my sense of hearing, but sharp in my sense of sight. I use my eyes to understand, and use an aid to listen intently.

The boys still hung around. I'd teach them sign language over the years. We could make a conversation and they could spell their names. It was no longer a set back. It was something I embraced.

Man, I had to listen hard to that voice that reassured me that Zayn and I belonged together. If I concentrated just enough, I could hear that whisper of hope. A hope that said everything would be okay. A hope that said that I am who I am, and no one can change that.

And that little voice was just enough for me.