Runaway (A Zayn Malik fanfiction)

Chapter 3 ♡

"I know the girls he's went through. Before he lived in this apartment, he lived in his car."

My eyes widened. "What? Seriously?"

She laughed nervously. "I don't know, I just knew it would freak you out."

I rolled my eyes once again. "Okay Carlee, what's his name?"

"I'm warning you, Kat. He's-"

"Name?" I repeated again, impatient. Not that I didn't really care what she was saying, but I really just didn't. She was more of the "judge a book by it's cover" type, and she believed in gossip. Me, on the other hand, wasn't really into that stuff.

Besides, someone as hot as him deserved a little bit of heart break.

She let out a long, exaggerated sigh, making sure I heard before she finally answered. "Zayn. Zayn Malik."

Zayn, I mentally repeated. The name was like nothing I'd ever heard before, and I smirked.

"Do you have his number by any chance?" I asked innocently, hoping she'd give it to me.

"You're going to have to figure that out for yourself," she challenged.

I smirked, accepting her challenge. "Alright then, later. I've got a number to catch."

She sighed but I hung up just in time to prevent myself from hearing her lecture me about warnings. I checked myself in the mirror before running downstairs, but once I reached the bottom floor, I noticed Dad sitting at the breakfast table that was placed in the corner of the kitchen.

"Morning, dad." I said to him.

"Good morning sweetheart." He said, not taking his eyes off of his newspaper. Go figure. "Did you have fun at Carlee's party yesterday."

I actually forgot about that for a split second. "Yeah, it was so fun," I lied.

He nodded, and I guess that's how our morning conversation went.

"Dad, I'm heading out for a while."

He stood up off his chair and finally looked up at me, "yeah, I was just heading to the restaurant. You have the house keys right?"

I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the keys off of it, "I do now."

He smiled. Waving him goodbye, I walked out into the cool, Bradford air.
The weather was crisp, clean, and I couldn't help but immediately feel happier. If only the weather was like this yesterday other than the pouring rain.

I looked around and spotted the boy, Zayn, exactly where I had seen him from my window. I stood a bit taller and began walking across the road, towards him. His back was turned to me because he was moving a box to the sidewalk other than the road. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was surprised when he beat me to it.

"Hey there," he said as he leaned down and placed a box that he was carrying on the staircase.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "How did you know I was here?"

He dusted himself off, turning around and smiling at me. "You mean from when I heard you walking here, or when I saw you staring at me from your window?"

Awkward. Heat made it's way to my cheeks as I looked down, "oh, um, you saw that?"

"Indeed," he replied, a devious smirk formed upon his lips, "but don't worry, I was staring at you too."

I smiled a bit at his comment, and I looked back up at him. He was smirking at me, and I shivered at the sight of his lips, remembering how they were on my neck yesterday. I collected myself and decided to start conversation, but all I really wanted was to know if he remembered me or not. "Did you just moved here?"