EAT » [ziam]

eleven

[I've got feathers in my hair. I get high on hydroponic weed. And my jazz collection's rare. I get down to beat poetry. I'm a Brooklyn baby]

~**~

The wild sounds of adolescents and sight of food everywhere made the cafeteria one of Zayn's most feared places. It's not like he hated food. It was more just a slap in the face to see all the skinny and athletic jocks being able to binge on a bunch of junk food and stay slim and attractive.

The banana in Zayn's hand was dangling as he slipped his hands inside the sleeves of his baggy grey Mickey Mouse sweater until they were no longer visible. He always felt self conscious about his figure, so he tended to wear baggier clothing to hide any fat lumps.

Zayn was seeing results with his starving and excessive workouts. He doesn't necessarily see himself as fat as he used to be; however, he knew he wasn't perfect. He needed to lose a little more for reassurance. Zayn wasn't stupid. He knows how our bodies go into starvation mode when they aren't fed properly and store fat in fear it won't be fed again. The boy had to eat something, and he was aware of that. He just had to keep it to a minimum and make sure to burn it off and then some.

This banana was healthy and nutritious. He could afford to eat a little of it for the day. Then he'd just go for a run tonight.

Wrong.

He'd go for a run and afterwards his father would probably call him a sweaty pig or something along those lines. Yaser had to insult Zayn in order to make his self-esteem plummet down even further so he wouldn't believe he was actually freakishly thin. Or else, he'd have nothing else to do.

Zayn's shyness took full control as he blushed in embarrassment not knowing where to sit. He could sit with Liam, but he didn't want to. Him and his friends made Zayn nervous with all the encouragement to eat. Besides, Zayn didn't want to get further attached to Liam. It killed him to ignore all his texts and calls last night.

"Hey Zayn."

That voice was recognizable. It sounded lustful, flirty, and most of all; wanting.

Zayn turns to the direction of the voice that called him. It was that Luke bloke he saw last Saturday at the beach with his other two pals Ashton and Calum. There was a fourth mate sitting with them who didn't seem to pick-up on Zayn's radar. He had green spiky mismatched hair and almost a punk look, but nothing too in-your-face.

"Hi Luke," mumbled Zayn while raising his hand in a awkward wave attempt.

"Come sit with us!" Luke insisted.

"Oh, n-no. Thank you, b-but I wouldn't wanna be a b-burden." Zayn was stuttering all over the place like a toddler. His cheeks turned pink due to how stupid and shy he sounded.

This made Luke grin like a fool. Zayn was already a nice piece of ass to him, and his innocence made him even more desirable.

Ashton joined the conversation with a sympathetic smile, "It's no big deal!"

"Do it! Do it!" encouraged Calum.

Luke licked around his lip piercing and arched an eyebrow towards Zayn. "Yeah, don't just stand there and look pretty."

Zayn's pink lips made an O-shape as he took a seat next to Luke. He then places his banana down and adjusts his sleeves before looking at the green haired fellow to catch his name.

He finishes chewing his pretzels and swallows. "Hi there. I'm Michael, but you can call me Mikey or Mike if you want." He reaches out his hand and shakes Zayn's, being taken aback by how skinny, bony and cold it is.