misfits // z.m

ch. 31 || paints

XXXI. paints

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[3rd person.]

Thalia and Zayn spent the night sleeping side by side, both too drunk to feel anything but the comfort of sleep and knowledge they weren't alone. The night had been filled with laughter and smiles, and Louis and Danny daring each other to strip and run round the garden despite the cold air. Zayn laughed and covered Thalia's eyes with one big, tattoed hand as she leaned into the nook of his neck, giggling.

She'd been drunk a few times, but not much had come of it apart from nausea and, of course, the impending headache the following morning. With Zayn, however, it felt like something more - whatever feelings she had left for him were heightened by the alcohol, and she daren't try to confront them. Not until the morning.

Then Louis and Danny collapsed on each of the sofas. Zayn made sure they were warm before switching off the light to the living room and heading upstairs.

A small smile formed on his face when he saw Thalia was already tucked up in bed, trying her hardest to keep her eyes open. "Hey, sleepy." Zayn had said, clambering in the left hand side of the bed. He took the moment of awkward shuffling until he was comfortable to look around her bedroom. Zayn noticed how she had stacks of books in two corners, and in between was a large, brown wardrobe.

Thalia, known for her extensive collection of books, still planned to return to her flat in London to grab the last of her things, but she wasn't in a rush. Recently, she'd discovered the benefits of reading online. It would never compare to the feeling of a paper or hardback, but it was much more accessible on days when she missed her books in London.

Turning to look at Thalia, he felt something in his heart which couldn't really be explained. It wasn't the alcohol, and it wasn't the cold, but it was something like he felt in Amsterdam. Zayn remembered all the times they slept together, and he wanted to smile at the memory, but he realised how freezing it was in her room and wondered if she ever struggled paying heating bills.

Soon he was lying on his side, facing her. Thalia wrapped her right arm around his neck and brought him closer, shivering. He looked at her expectantly, but she only seemed to stare.

And then she kissed him on the lips.

"Thank you for coming to visit, Zayn." She managed to say, wondering if her heartbeat was audible.

Zayn smiled, a shy smile, and she couldn't help but feel stupid for ever refusing him. Deciding to scold herself later, Thalia just sighed quietly. Soon enough, both of them were fast asleep.

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You've been up and down, down

Zayn frowned, wiping his eyes. The curtains had been drawn back and what was that noise?

You've been low, low, low

With a yawn, the dark-haired boy slowly got out of bed, upon the realisation that a certain someone had run away again. Knowing she was probably reading or something, he sauntered into the bathroom. Strangely enough, he didn't have a headache. He felt very awake, and for someone who needed at least eleven hours of sleep a day, Zayn felt surprised.

Troubled sea so deep, troubled home no sleep

The noise was apparently singing, Zayn concluded, as he brushed his teeth with his finger. (What? He had left his bags downstairs and was too lazy to get a toothbrush.)

You've been flying so high

Avoiding the road

Pretending to not feel alone