Color Me (H.S)

CHAPTER 9

"Thank you again." I said to Louis, not answering his question before running off to Zayn. My cold hands knocked on his door and I heard a muffled voice telling me to come in. I smiled to myself and opened the door, walking myself inside. His apartment was nice and warm. The walls were painted in dark colors, but yet it seemed bright. I had to admit, for a boy, Zayn had really good style.

"Are you ready?" I called out to the empty apartment. 

Zayn's head popped out of his room, sending me a smile. "Yeah, let me finish my hair."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Your hair? If you finish we're going to be late!" I huffed out a breath and decided to sit down on his couch. I heard him cursing me, which made me laugh. "You know I'm right!"

"Yeah yeah yeah whatever." He mumbled as he grabbed his things. "Ready to go your highness?" He said, his voice laced with humor.

"Shall we go now my servant? I need you to put your coat in a puddle so my shoes do not get wet." I said, giving him a snob attitude. Zayn laughed and helped me up. 

We made our way to the firm and made it inside just in time to not be marked late. "You two are here! Good! Come to my office we need to talk." Mr. Styles said, clapping his hands. Zayn and I looked at each other, confusion etched on our faces. 

"Oh come on, you two aren't in trouble." Mr. Styles said, calming our nerves. I sent him a smile and walked into his office with Zayn right in tow. I sat down and fixed my skirt, making room for Zayn.

"What are you two doing for Christmas?" Mr. Styles asked us as he sat in his chair, leaning back.

"Well-" I started. What do I tell him? "To be honest, my mother called me and told me there will be no Christmas at the house."

"My family can't send me home, so I'm stuck here." Zayn said smiling. I knew that Zayn was just smiling to convince us that he was okay. But I knew him better, and I knew that he was sad that he wouldn't get to spend Christmas with his family. He cared deeply for them and sometimes it seemed like they didn't love him as much as he did. 

Mr. Styles frowned at us, his eyes filled with worry. "Where are you two going? Just staying in your apartments?"

I nodded, since that was indeed our plan. I invited Zayn over to watch Christmas movies and eat a dinner I would try and prepare. "How about this.." Mr. Styles started, leaning forward in his chair. He rested his arms on his desk and looked from myself to Zayn. "You two can come to my house and have Christmas dinner with my family and then we can send you home with some leftovers?"

I was surprised to say the least at Mr. Styles offer. Mr. Styles smiled at the two of us and I could tell that he was hopeful for us to answer yes. "Yes! We would love to!" Zayn said, without thinking. I hated sometimes how Zayn just blurted out his thoughts. The only reason I wouldn't want to go is because of his son. But yet, I can ignore him and treat him the same way he treats me. 

Mr. Styles looked surprised at Zayn's outburst but quickly recovered with his perfect smile. "Oh how nice! I'll tell my wife that we have guests! She's been bugging me to invite someone over and when I met you two, I knew that you would be our next guest. Do you guys like Turkey and Ham?"

"We do, sir." I said quickly, so Zayn couldn't blabber out. 

"Good. We'll have both." Mr. Styles said. 

The day wore on uneventfully and I was thankful to finally be home. I was excited to spend the dinner with Mr. Styles and especially Zayn. I knew that he was lonely and I felt bad when I couldn't hang out with him, which rarely happens since we have the same work schedule. I took off my flats and sat down in my chair, rubbing my sore feet. I was tired of walking everywhere, but having a car in New York was something that I couldn't exactly afford right now. I got up and walked myself to my bedroom, changing into something comfortable. I put my hair in a bun and grabbed the things that I bought for Zayn's Christmas presents. A soft thud came from the other side of my bed, my heart beating faster at the sudden noise. I quickly walked to where the noise came from and sighed to myself. 

I was stupid, the thud came from the journal that Professor Tipton gave me a few weeks back. I picked it up and sat on my bed, tucking my legs under me. I slowly opened the old leather, smiling at the smell of paint coming from the pages. 

January 15, 1954.

I could not fathom the reason I did not get the chance to draw today. I know that it was my fault, knowing that my love was hurt. She was hurt because of my choice. I chose The Art Academy instead of moving to a small town and marrying her like she had previously told me. It is not the reason that I did not want to become a farmer.. Well.. To be honest, it was exactly that. I do not want to spend my life doing something that I hate. I would rather show my feeling through art. My parents shared their dislike for my choice in work, but yet I still want to do it. 
I know that I am letting them down, but I wish that one day they will look at a paint that I did and smile. Smile because they are proud of what I have become. But sadly, I don't think that they will ever be proud.

Yours.

T.

I looked at the first journal entry, my smile becoming bigger. The book that I was holding was in fact Professor Tipton's journal when he was younger. I grabbed an old piece of paper and stuck it in the journal for a book mark. I would defiantly read it later. I sat it down on my pillow and grabbed Zayn's presents. I walked out to my living room and sat them down on my coffee table. 

I plugged in my phone and started my favorite song playlist. The Girl by City and Colour started to softly play, making me instantly sing along.

I wish I could do better by you
Cuz that's what you deserve.
You sacrifice so much of your life
In order for this to work.

While I'm off chasing my own dreams,
Sailing around the world,
Please know that I'm yours to keep,
My beautiful girl.

When you cry a piece of my heart dies,
Knowing that I may have been the cause.
If you were to leave,
Fulfill someone else's dreams,
I think I might totally be lost.

You don't ask for no diamond rings,
No delicate strings of pearls,
That's why I wrote this song to sing,
My beautiful girl.

I sweetly sang along to his wonderful voice as I wrapped Zayn's presents with Barbie wrapping paper. I giggled to myself knowing that Zayn would laugh at the wrapping. After awhile of wrapping, I was finally done and ready to relax for the rest of the night. 

I sat back in my chair and yawned, rubbing my eyes tiredly. Just two more days until I have to face the boy who makes my heart beat faster, no matter how much I tried to stop it.