Stealing Hearts (Zayn Malik Fanfiction)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘Next time I’m planning on following you it will definitely be in the summer and not in the winter.’ My teeth shatter when I stumble in my apartment after Zayn had to open the door for me, because I was not able to move my fingers.

I hear him chuckle behind me before he replies. ‘You are not following me again. Don’t care which season it is. And it wasn’t even that cold…’

That makes me roll my eyes. ‘Exactly. I don’t know how you even did that. Without your jacket on. How is it possible you didn’t freeze to dead?’ I mumble, still not over the fact that he was able to handle the cold so easily.

He just shrugs when he places my bags down. We picked them up at school, before we took a cab to my apartment. Zayn didn’t want to take the underground nor the bus. He didn’t tell me why, but after a good forty minutes able to think about it, I figured he was just scared to get recognized. And it isn’t easy to escape when you are sitting on the tube or the bus.

‘You can sit down if you want. And maybe call for pizza. I’m starving.’ I say to him while handing him the phone and a little pamphlet of the pizza place. ‘Just say it’s for Evelyn White. They know the address.’

‘A pizza fan?’ He smirks at me before I leave the room.

‘An I-rather-not-cook-when-I’m-tired fan…’ I reply from my bedroom while I’m picking a more comfortable outfit and a warm hoodie to wear. ‘For me a pizza Napoletana!’ I yell lastly when I hear him type in the numbers on the phone.

When I changed my outfit and put on the heat, I immediately feel a bit better when I join Zayn in the living room again. ‘Anything to drink?’ I ask when I poor myself a glass of red wine. ‘I have all sorts of soda, beer, wine… Water too of course.’

‘Beer is great, thank you.’ He smiles when he stands up from the couch again and walks to the other end of the room. I follow him with my eyes and when I see him reach for the guitar in the corner, I frown, but don’t say a word. ‘You play the guitar?’ He looks up at me, before he sits himself down with the instrument.

‘I want to… But I haven’t found the time yet.’ I reply while taking his bottle of beer out the fridge. ‘Haven’t found anyone yet who can teach me.’

And then suddenly out of nowhere, he starts playing the guitar. He starts moving his fingers on the strings, playing different chords, forming a song I don’t know. Silently I put his beer down and sit myself in the one person chair he sat in the last time he was here. I can’t look away from the dark haired man sitting on my sofa with a guitar in his hands as if he had been playing it since he was six.

And then… He starts to sing. Living me breathless and unprepared.

There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny

Then there’s me inside a sinking boat running out of time

Without you I’ll never make it out alive

But I know yes I know we’ll be alright

My jaw drops. And although he doesn’t use his full voice, it’s still amazingly good. It’s more a singing mumbling sound, like he wants to remember the words again. I never would have guessed him to be anywhere close to a singer, nor a musician. And I can’t ignore his everlasting smile while he’s singing the words that obviously mean a lot, right in front of me.

But then he suddenly cuts off, just when I think the chorus is coming and I can’t help but feel instant disappointment.

‘Why do you stop?’ I swallow, trying to gather myself from the shock.