One Direction Imagines and Preferences Book 3

#447 "I'd lie" - zayn

I sat on the leather sofa in his living room, watching his hand float across the paper resting in his lap. His fingers were black, tainted by the stub of black charcoal gripped loosely in his steady grasp. He chewed his lower lip in concentration, eyes fixed on his artwork. Then, his head shot up, the sound of his charcoal, pencils, and brushes clanging across the coffee table startling him from his attentiveness. His sister stood there with a timid look on his face, having accidently bumped the table. "What the hell?" he grumbled, a flash of anger crossing his chiseled features, "watch where you're going, yeah?" She narrowed her eyes, lips pulling into an impressive pout, and with one final glare in Zayn's direction she flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder and stalked from the room. The whole time I sat there, taking in the scene. It was funny, how well I knew him. From all the little things that made him tick, to the hints of his character that shone through his quiet demeanor. I knew that he loved to argue, even if it was all in fun. His birthday was marked on my calendar with a heart; the twelfth of January. His favorite color was red, and his sister was beautiful, just like him. And without a doubt, he had his mother's eyes. That richness and warmth I so loved reflected back at me every time I saw them together. Smiling to myself, I fiddled with a loose strand of hair, trying with every ounce of my being to convince myself that I wasn't in love with him. I told myself that this feeling enclosing my heart was nothing more than friendship set on fire. I tried and I tried, and I continued to lie to myself.