"Get me talking"

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Long Zayn #imagine Your P.O.V.

"Wauw.. That girl.. She's so.." I heard a gorgeous voice say. "Perfect?" My best friend guessed. "Almost more than that" The boy answered, as I felt his eyes dig holes into my side. "Yes.. She was" My best friend sighed. I listened carefully to what she would say, and what the boy would ask. I always listened. "What do you mean she wàs?" He asked, and I could hear his raised eyebrow in his voice. "(Y/N), doesn't talk anymore" My best friend said, her voice drenched in sadness as she told him about my life change. "Doesn't tàlk anymore? What do you mean she doesn't talk?" He asked, turning around to her as I softly wiped away the mess my eraser left after undoing the mistakes on the drawing I was making. "(Y/N) stopped talking. She just doesn't talk since.. Things happened. She does answer, sometime.. When she feels like it. Or she will just ignore everything or just nod or shake her head, but she never talks anymore" I heard the powerless emotion in my best friends voice and I started drawing again. "Why?" He simply asked, this intrigued me. Another person would just have shrugged his shoulders and moved on to his own business. The thing that intrigued me even more was that he didn't asked his question to my best friend, but to me. He talked to me, even though she just told him I didn't talk anymore. "Since she lost her parents, she stopped talking and she turned completely to herself" My best friend answered before I could even take a chance to think about the question he asked. The boy stood up and walked over to me, sitting down next to me as he watched what I was drawing. "The Fallen Angel" He said as he saw the messy sketch I made. I felt my eyes widen as he seemed to speak the words that went through my brain. I slowly nodded as I looked into his brown eyes. He smiled softly as I opened my mouth to say something, but my best friend cut me off, again. "Try it all you want Zayn, she won't talk. I'm out. Bye!" She said, heading out the door and leaving me and the boy alone. "So can't you talk or do you just don't want to?" I heard him ask, and my mood changed, so did the drawing. "You do speak.. Through your drawings.." He whispered. The first one ever to understand it. The first to see my pain, the emptiness I felt.

"Depends on the person right?" Wow. He really did understand me. Like a miracle. I slowly nodded, looking up to his brown eyes again. "I'm Zayn" He said, still not getting tired of me like everyone else did. I seemed to intrigue him. I know he wouldn't let me get away with not answering so I did. I changed my drawing again and he smiled softly. "You see yourself as the fallen angel, don't you?" He asked quietly, scared to trigger the certain painful subject. I changed the drawing again, drawing a huge room around the angel with the broken wings, a door locked with a heavy steel chain and no escapes. "You feel locked.." He whispered as he took my hands in his, not breaking the contact. "Would you let mé try to free you?" He whispered, like it was a secret. I smiled as I stood up and walked over to the piano. Through the years I did took some ways to talk like art, writing poems and music. Even though I didn't talk, I did sing. Not so someone could hear, but with him.. This boy.. I wanted him to hear me. For the first time I wanted to talk to someone, and although I knéw I could talk, I just refused to, I couldn't really find my voice. I sat down on the piano stool and opened the piano. He followed and sat down next to me. "You play the-" He stopped talking as I pressed the exact right keys. "Course you do" He grinned softly as he listened careful to what I played. The song completely showing what I couldn't say. He listened with his eyes closed, his hands clenched to a fist and his eyebrows furrowed.

"It's like, everything was perfect. Until that happened. And when it did, nothing was anymore. But now, somethi-. No, someóne came by and it feels less dark. Someone that lit up your world a bit. A person you could trust" He spoke as your eyes widened at how exact he was telling your feelings. He opened his eyes and found mine, gazing into them as he raised his hand and stroked a strain of hair behind my ear. "You're not a fallen angel. You're a perfect one. The most beautiful one that could ever exist. Your wings aren't broken, they're healing. Your wounds aren't open, they're fixed. You're not falling, you're rising" He spoke as he leant in and pressed his lips passionately against mine. 'Yóú!' I choked out as he pulled away. His eyes widened as a grin spread across his face. 'Y-you are t-that person' I stuttered, looking him directly in his eyes. He brought my voice back in my throat, the life in my body, the love in my heart. "Your voice.. It's back" He whispered before he took my hand in his again. 'You bróúght it back' I whispered back before he leaned in and kissed me. "Before you're going to talk again I need you to answer one question" He spoke, making me raise my eyebrow and sending him a questioning look. "Will you be my girlfriend?" I grinned as I took a new piece of paper and drew a new angel. In the arms of a superhero, a saviour. A smiling angel, with healed wings, with closed wounds. 'Yes' I answered, simply as that. Meaning I was saved. And so was he. He leaned in to kiss me again. I never stopped talking to him anymore and the little song I played became the song we danced on every evening.

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