TAINTED | Zayn Malik

Chapter 57| Here we go...

My body felt warm as I practically floated around the entire gallery, not even scoping everything as I wanted too. I could feel my mind taking notes of each peace I raced past, just to give me inspiration once I got back home. Zayn decided to give me a couple of moments to myself, going around to the bar in a corner and fixing himself a drink. I felt like this was an outer body experience, like this wasn't real.

I was so used to things being taken away from or being too good to be true, I felt nervous that it would end. But that was just my own source of demons sensing that I was happy and just wanted to ruin it, I insisted on asking Zayn to look at the paintings with me but stopping once I seen him pull out his phone to answer some call. I knew that it was better to let him do what he had to do, he could fine me somewhere in the maze of art.

I walked down another corner, losing sight of Zayn while going towards a regular painting. I stopped as my eyes followed the abstract art, the blues, whites and grays creating lines that would've been hard to follow. But the image was perfectly clear, the strokes going back and forth to create the perfect curves in her breast. The outline of his body, the passion within the way he touched her body. I gripped my necklace between my fingers, the soft pads of my fingers running over it. It was a couple. They were, they were making love.

The emotions deep in the picture wasn't hard to miss at all, to someone that didn't get art wouldn't have seen it. Not with the naked eye, no. If they were to new the world of art then it could go unnoticed and I found it outstanding, but if you were like me then you could see it from miles away. I don't think I would ever walk by and not get into depth with things, to imagine how the artist may have felt. I understood that substantially because I felt that whenever I painted on a canvas but no one saw, it's like they were all outside looking it but the windows are tinted. I was able to think of less than ten people that could see things, because they knew to understand me. That it was more to the picture. My guy was one of them.

I breathed deeply still looking at the painting of the two lovers confessing their emotions to one another, pulling my bottom lip with my teeth as it reminded me of the actions from last night almost. It felt unreal that I almost choked on the air I was inhaling, my fingers slowly moved from my necklace to the softness of my neck. Touch so delicately that I had to hold back the urge to shiver, corners of my mouth twitched as I remembered the way our bodies fit together between his sheets. It was downright exotic as the memory played in my mind how I didn't shy away from Zayn's onlooking eyes, the intensity they held as he made sure the both of us were pleasured.

My mind was completely gone that I didn't hear the sound of foot steps approaching me, I stood up straight as I looked behind me to see a middle aged woman greeting me with a warm smile as her eyes beamed. I cleared my throat giving a soft smile back as my arms crossed behind my back, I may have not been used to doing this life style. But I knew how to fake it, that was a skill I've learned from my darling mother.

"Hello, Ryder." She smiled, putting out her hand to shake mine while standing directly in front of me. "Zayn went to request a waiter for you, when I heard that he was here with a date I had to come up and see for myself. I almost didn't believe my husband, but here you are." She admitted honestly.