Where Darkness Dwells (Zayn Malik AU)

Chapter 2

Even without his presence, the room still felt cold. 

“Get back to work,” Camille orders and pretty soon everything around me is moving again. 

“What’s going on? Why is he here?” I ask her but she shakes her head and mumbles something that sounds very much like ‘I said get back to work’. 

By the time I reach my desk, my mind is still buzzing. I gave everything I had within me to try and focus on my paperwork, but I was failing miserably. My mind kept on going back to everyones odd behavior towards the arrival of Mr. Malik’s son. 

My thoughts are interrupted by my landline and I eagerly click the answer button. 

“Hello,” I say immediately although I already know who it is thanks to the certain flashing light. 

Aimee, as usual, is less formal and skips a greeting before barking out an order. “There are papers in the blue bin on my desk, I need them. Now.”

The line is dead. 

I scoff but get up anyway and reach into the blue wire bin, grabbing what I hoped were the right papers. 

I hesitate when I reach the grand doors, wondering whether or not I should knock or just come in. On one hand, if I just walk in Aimee—or even worse, Mr. Malik—might perceive that as rude and not polite and fire me, but Aimee might get annoyed that I knocked because that means she has to answer and she already told me to come in here. I was wasting precious time. 

The door swung silently behind me as I entered this new world. Framed awards and certificates hung orderly on the drab walls, and right below  them were granite counter tops which were covered in various things. As usual I was blinded thanks to the giant window which took up the entirety of what would have been the back wall. It was a gorgeous view, you could see the skyscrapers of the city in all their glory. In front of the glass window stood Mr. Malik’s giant desk, and behind it was the boss himself. 

His eyes flicked up at my direction in a rather bored manner, at the same time alerting Aimee that I had stepped into the room. 

“Finally,” she sighs as if I took hours to get here, even though she had only paged me a few seconds ago. 

I hand the papers to her and she snatches them from my grip before giving them to Mr. Malik who was currently going between the piece of paper on his desk and the computer screen in front of him. 

For the first time ever I felt brave enough to actually take the time to look at his desk and I realized that Mr. Malik’s desk reflected him. It was very orderly and everything was of a dark color. Picture frames faced him and were hidden from me, and I couldn’t help but wonder who was the person lucky enough to achieve a spot at his desk. 

Nothing in this room seemed comfortable and I wondered how this man could spend so many hours in something so corporate before he was labeled insane. Even the photographs everywhere didn’t seem to add any sentimental value to this large office space.