graffiti - z.m.

{ 13 }

[nora's pov]

“What exactly do you think you are doing?” I hissed at him under my breath, as my eyes watched the driver with worry and light frustration. The black leather felt clammy against my bare legs and Zayn leaned back putting his hands behind his head and smiled at me, “well you’re here too right? So shouldn’t you know what we are doing?”

I rolled my eyes at him, as the driver pulled out on the mainstreet again and the people of the night started becoming blurry outside. They would blend in with the street neon lights, the darkness and life - and simply be another part of the never sleeping flow that was New York City.

I rolled my eyes at Zayn. Constantly my attention flickered to the driver fearing he would realize what we - apparently - were actually up to. The strange thing was I had always considered myself decently spontaneous and wild - but I was practically sounding like some old granny who had been taped in bubble wrap and had been furiously whispering at the tattooed boy, who was well on his way to get me deep into trouble.

Zayn noticed my jumpiness; I was sitting on the edge of the seat, eyes flickering all over the place trying to figure out how I could prevent what was soon to come.

“Live a little will you?” Zayn spotted with a low terrifyingly alluring voice as his lips formed into a knowing smile; he had leaned forward so he could whisper the words just for me here in the back of the cab. His hazel eyes didn’t leave mine till I had exhaled deeply and my eyes were calm instead of the constant fear for the upcoming trouble.

“But breaking the law isn’t necessary to enjoy life,” I hushed more calmly this time back at him keeping my voice as low as I could. Zayn’s eyes went to the driver’s which were watching us curiously in the rear mirror from time to time, as they tried figuring out what secrets were whispered in the darkness of the taxi back seat.

“Just shut up will you?” His voice was matter of factly, but he still smiled sweetly which made me annoyed. I couldn’t even explain why.

He leaned back in the seat his eyes briefly looking out the window, which was showing Brooklyn by night. There was silent for a few moments.

“I’ve been doing it for six years by now.” He stated out of the blue making me stare at him in confusion - done what in six years? I waited for him to explain further but he didn’t; not until he turned to watch me again casually, did I ask sounding like a moron; “doing what?”

“Graffiti - or well I’ve been drawing stuff for as long as I remember - but I think it’s about six years since I painted my first wall,” oh. He was answering my question from earlier. I was surprised and fascinated with him suddenly finding a reason, which he thought proper enough to finally tell me. I gathered myself trying to concentrate on the conversation he - to my wonder - had started about himself rather than pondering over why he suddenly trusted me with this.

“So it’s just a hobby or?” I fought to sound casual; not wanting to make him shut down again like he had earlier. He shrugged and his eyes found the view of the blurry outside again, as the city lights reflected in the window. You could just see the skyline of Manhattan, as we drove out to where the Brooklyn Bridge started.

“It’s not like I get paid to do it. Just for fun mostly I guess,” he looked back at me like it was nothing; like his beautiful talent was just doodles that no one could ever care about.

“And whatabout art school …?” He could be an art student. Hell he could!

He started laughing to my surprise, “are you serious?”

With a frown I stared back at him, while he turned his attention back to the window. I watched him as he rolled down the window - all the way down. The wind washed in over me but it felt nice here in the warm cab. My skin was sticking to the black leather. He was sitting closest to the window but I could still see how the water from East river was pitch black, as the skyline of Manhattan was reflected like a chain of fairy lights creating a painting that wanted for one night only to be as admired as the sky filled with stars.