Hating to Loving: A Zayn Malik Fan Fiction

Chapter Eight

"Hey, um, Mr Atkin, have you seen, uh, Zayn?"

Turning to me with his glasses on the very tip of his nose, he squinted his eyes into slits upon hearing Zayn's name mentioned. Tilting my head to the left, I mirrored his expression nonetheless. This old dude can get as suspicious as ever, I swear. Though, suddenly, his eyes widened, causing me to react with a gasp, my eyes widening with his as well.

"I actually haven't seen him here..."

Wait, what?!

What was he on about?!

What did he mean?!

Zayn couldn't still be in the lab, could he?!

WHAT?!

"What do you mean," I tried to calm myself down, thinking that's he'll be alright, chanting 'he's okay' in my head. "Y-You mean... He... I mean―he couldn't possibly still be in the l-lab, right?"

Pushing his glasses up with a trembling index finger, his eyes darted around behind me. Surely, he was trying to find Zayn.

...one look into the old soul's eyes, and all you could actually find was horror.

I snapped my fingers before his face to bring his attention back.

I don't know why I'm reacting to Zayn having a high chance of still being in the lab. I mean, it's Zayn. The most irritating guy on earth. Sure, I hate him to the core, but sometimes he can ― not that he is, most of the time ― be nice.

No, I absolutely hate him, still. I just can't imagine my life without him trying to annoy the fuck out of me... My life would seriously, honestly, definitely, be a bore to the world. Or, to myself.

"I made sure all was out of the p-place," he stammered, his old voice growing shaky by the second. Sometimes I pity this guy. He's already in his late seventies, and yet he's still in this shithole of a school, teaching students like us.

Not that we aren't good students, but a quarter of the students in this school are actually delinquents. One of them, namely?

Zayn Malik.

I was about to respond, but I was simply cut off by someone snaking their arm around my waist from the side. At the same time, relief flashed across Mr Atkin's face, and I just couldn't help wondering why and who was next to me.

Without even saying any thing else, Mr Atkin turned around and walked away after his eyes were done darting from the person's face, back to me, and down to the person's hand, which was at the other side of my waist.

"You were worried about me, weren't you?"

Jumping slightly at the teasing tone, I craned my neck a little to face him. "Zayn?!"

So he'd been all right the whole time! Oh, thank God! At least I know someone whom I needed in my life, to annoy me, was still healthy and standing next to me, with a smirk.

"What?" He chuckled, pulling me closer to him. I scrunched my nose up and cleared my throat awkwardly, pushing myself away at the same time. The hell was wrong with me. Why aren't I retaliating, oh sweet mother of G―

"As if I'd ever be worried for you," I lied, without once blinking my eyes. I raised an eyebrow at him for a second before rolling my eyes at his cockiness.

So I lied. I may have gotten a little ― maybe a tad more than little ― worried for him, but he doesn't need to know that, does he? Nah, don't think so. And we'll just stay that way, even if it takes forever. I don't even mind.