Violet
Zayn and I arrive home and the minute we get through the door I make an excuse of using the shower, escaping him as fast as I can. I grab my things and head towards the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
I put my clothes on the sink and go to lock the door, except when I do I realise there's no lock. A house with six people and there's not a lock on the door? I sigh, I'm just going to have to hope that everyone follows the rule of 'If the bathroom door is closed, don't come in'.
Zayn's bathroom is pretty small, with a shower that sits in the corner, a large glass screen covering it. There's all kinds of products on the shower shelves as well as covering the sink. I open up the cupboards to find a towel, moving around the cleaning products and hair sprays and gels. There's no towels anywhere. I open up drawers, look in corners, nothing.
Suddenly a knock comes at the door and I panic for a split second. I'm not overly comfortable with Zayn's family yet, and without Zayn around me I don't really know how to act around them. But, I stand up straight and plaster a smile to my face as I go to open the door and greet whoever is on the other side.
I turn the knob and pull back the door. My smile falls when I see Zayn standing there.
He holds out a yellow towel and a face cloth to me. "It takes about five minutes for the water to turn hot," he says. "Right is on, left is off. Don't push it too far otherwise you'll burn alive."
I take the pile from his hands, ignoring as our fingers brush. "Thanks," I say awkwardly.
He just gives this eyebrow raise, head nod thing that I assume means something and turns on his heel to walk back down the hall, one hand in his pockets. I quickly duck back into the bathroom and close the door again. But before I do I hear Zayn yell, "BATHROOM'S OFF LIMITS!"
I smile a little before placing the towel on the sink. The towel's fluffy and looks brand new, and I've hardly ever seen yellow towels before. I wonder why Zayn picked this one. But, I love yellow. So I'm not complaining. I turn on the shower, following Zayn's rules of waiting five minutes before it goes hot, and pull off my clothes. I rip my hair out of it's pony tail before grabbing the face cloth and my shampoo and conditioner and stepping gingerly into the shower. The minute the water hits my skin I shriek. It's too hot, way too hot. I pull the lever left a bit.
I get a better look at all the products around me and realise each shelf belongs to a certain family member. I pick up a black shower gel bottle from one of the shelves, realising I brought none of my own. I'm sure no one will mind if I use a bit of theirs. I flick open the lid and my nose catches a familiar musky, woody and rustic scent. I immediately put the bottle back, realising it's Zayn's, and grab a pink one instead. But even through the strawberry and coconut smell that lingers off my skin now, I can still smell Zayn's scent. I quickly wash my hair and hop out of the shower as fast as I can. I grab the towel, wrap it around myself before standing in front of the mirror and squeezing my hair dry.
Then the door bursts open.
I spin around, covered only by a towel, my hair dripping wet around me, and my eyes absolutely wide. A girl a bit older than me stands in the doorway, her face the splitting image of Zayn's mum. Her bold eyes are covered in thick eyeliner and her glossy hair sits in a scruffy plait to her side. Her hands cover her mouth as she sees me.
Well, this is awkward.
"Oh, Christ," she says. "Um, sorry? I ... who are you?"
"I'm, um, Violet. I'm, um, Zayn's, uh, girlfriend," I stutter. This is officially one of the worst introductions ever. I pull the towel tighter around me.
Her eyes widen and she snorts. "I'm sorry, you're what?"
"Sorry, who are you?" I ask.
"I'm Doniya," she says as if I should have already known. "Zayn's sister. I just came home from uni. And nobody mentioned to me that Zayn had a girlfriend." She shakes her head, baffled. Then, she yells, "ZAYN!"
"I, uh, do you mind, uh, you know?" I look down at myself.
Doniya laughs. "Oh, shit. Of course. I'll talk to you afterwards." She closes the door and I let out a huge breath I didn't know I had been holding in.
I quickly get dressed and pull my hair back and hang up my towel on the railing. I sigh and exit the bathroom, walking to Zayn's room to pack away my things again. I hear voices in the lounge and slowly walk towards the room.
"I'm just saying, Zayn, that I had to meet her when she was half naked," I hear Doniya cry as I slide against the wall.
"Isn't that how you meet everyone else?" An angry Zayn snaps back.
I pause and lean against the wall, just listening.
"Fucking prick," Doniya hisses.
"When is it that you leave again?"
"In case you didn't realise, this is the first time you've been here since the start of the year. Don't act like this is your home."
"It never was. You know that."
"So why did you come, huh? You expect me to believe that you're head over heels in love with some other girl that-"
"She's not some other girl, Don."
I trip over the edge of a cabinet and awkwardly stumble into the lounge. Zayn and Doniya both look up at my arrival and immediately stop talking. I lift up my hand in a wave. "Hi," I say, my heart beating madly. I nervously laugh, because it's all I can do.
"Hi, sweetheart," Doniya smiles warmly at me. She stands up and wraps me in huge, really tight hug, acting like she wasn't just talking about me before. But her hug's so warm and comforting, just like her mum's. And kinda what I picture Zayn's hugs to be like.
"I'm so sorry about before," she laughs, pushing back the hair from her face. "It's so great to meet you; properly."
"You too," I tell her honestly. I look behind her to see Zayn sitting on the arm chair, eyes out the window.
"Come, sit down." Doniya pulls me to the couch. "Zayn and I were just talking about you."
"Oh, were you?" I say in mock surprise.
Zayn finally draws his eyes away from the window and looks over at me. He gives me a weak, forced smile and then stands up and leaves the room.
"God, he's so dramatic," Doniya huffs. "How do you put up with him?"
My eyes stay on the empty doorway Zayn just stomped through. "Ha, yeah," I say.
"Sorry if I was so rude before," Doniya apologises to me, making my attention focus back to her. "It's just that the girls Zayn usually brings home ... well, you're not really one of them. I was just a little shocked. I mean, I've never found a girl half naked in our bathroom without him, you know?"
I blush a little, not wanting to know. I then laugh, because I think she's telling me a joke. "What, Zayn's other girlfriends don't shower?" I grin at my sarcasm.
Doniya just looks at me in confusion, her perfectly shaped eyebrows knitting together. "Oh, honey," she shakes her head at me. "Don't you know?"
Now I'm confused. "What? Know what?" It was a joke. Do Zayn's girlfriends actually not shower?
"You're the only girlfriend he's ever had."
Every single part of my body widens. What?! She has to be joking, me? The only one? E-v-e-r? There is something seriously wrong with that statement. I've known Zayn for not even a whole year and I've seen him with basically a new girl each day. Brittany. Brittany was his girlfriend. And what about Emily?
"That's ridiculous. Of course I'm not," I declare.
"I'm serious," Doniya tells me. "Sure he's had plenty of girls, but you're the only one he's ever called an actual girlfriend. You're the only girl he's brought home and introduced to us, and actually been proud of. And you're certainly the only one he's ever loved."
I suddenly can't breathe. Everything's closing in on me and I'm suffocating. I scramble to my feet. "Only?" I breathe out. "Me? Ever? Loved?"
Why didn't he tell me? I can't believe it. Why didn't he mention to me that I was going to be acting as his first ever girlfriend? That's a lot more bigger than just acting as a girlfriend. And why did he even make the deal? Why did he decide that he wanted me to be his first girlfriend? Why has he never had a girlfriend?!
"I need some air," I mumble, rushing out the front door. I close it behind me and sit down on the first step.
Things are just so much more different now, now that I know this vital piece of information. I want to strangle Zayn; seriously strangle him. How could he do this to me? I haven't even made a great impression. I swear everyone in the family secretly hates me. I'm the first one. The only one he's ever been proud of.
I hear a click of a lighter a little to my left and hurriedly look up and to my side. And there he is, smoking a cigarette with his legs pulled up to his chest, sitting on the small picnic table on the front lawn. He's looking in the distance, at the evening sky that holds colours of pink and yellow and orange. I get up and angrily stomp towards him.
He turns when he hears me coming and adjusts himself so that his legs rest on the seats below. He takes a quick drag before holding the cigarette away from me. "'Sup."
"'Sup?" I cry. "'Sup? I'll tell you 'what's up'." I point at my chest. "I'm your first girlfriend?!"
His cheeks suck in. "Fucking Doniya."
"So it's true," I say.
He sighs and looks away again, avoiding my gaze. "Maybe."
"Maybe?!" I'm so pissed I'm turning into this one big red steaming machine.
He looks back at me again, his eyes narrowed. He blows out smoke from the corner of his mouth, also away from me; I realise he's taking careful consideration to make sure nothing hits me. "Why is it such a big deal, huh?" He says coolly. "It doesn't change anything between us."
But it does. Because I'm the first one. I'm the first one he considered for this part, I'm the first one he's ever introduced to his parents, I'm the first one he's given a yellow towel and a face cloth to for a shower, I'm the first one who's just slept next to him, and not with him. I'm the first one that's had fresh juice and pancakes in the mornings with his mother, I'm the first one that he's showed his toy car collection to, the one that's hidden in his wardrobe. I'm the first one he's introduced to Safaa, his favourite person in this whole world. I'm the first one and that means something to me.
"How?" I ask him. "I don't understand, you hook up with girls all the time."
The evening wind picks up a little as the day begins to night, blowing his smoke back towards my direction and right into my face. I cough and he immediately stubs the cigarette out. He looks at me carefully. "I don't like settling." He climbs off the table, adjusting his leather jacket. "But, you already know that." He then walks past me, giving me a scent of that familiar woody smell mixed with cigarette smoke. He disappears into the house.
I take Zayn's place on the table and put my head in my hands. Settling. That's right, he has this whole philosophy on 'people settling' and 'fake love'. Whatever the hell that means. I don't know what he's looking for, but I don't even think it exists. I mean, sure, what a great lifestyle; hooking up with random girls just so don't have to feel. Commitment, that's it. He's scared of commitment.
"Violet?" A small voice squeaks from below me. "Are you okay?"
I remove my head from my hands and turn to see Safaa swaying side to side, her hands behind her back as she looks nervously up at me. I'm a little surprised, because she hasn't really spoken to me since I got here. "Oh, I'm fine." I smile genuinely at her. "I'm totally fine."
She climbs up to sit beside me and I scoot over so she can fit. On doing so I hit Zayn's ashtray with my hip. I pick it up and move it away.
"Zayn's inside, but you're out here," she observes. "How come?"
I laugh under my breath. "I just needed some air," I explain to her.
"That's what Zayn says."
I look down at her. "Yeah? When?"
She kicks her legs against the seat below. "All the time."
I bite my lip and look back ahead. "Pretty sky, huh?"
"Yeah," she says. "I like pink."
"Me too," I answer with a smile in her direction.
"Violet?"
"Hmm?"
"I think Zayn loves you."
My throat goes dry. I try to laugh but it comes out as more of a croaky cough. I want to tell her he doesn't, but I can't. I can't tell her that we're both just acting. I can't tell anyone and it's killing me. I don't even know why I'm here. The first girlfriend thing comes back into my head and makes it throb and I suddenly have a huge headache. "I think he loves you," I answer the best way I can.
Safaa giggles. "I love him, too. I missed him."
"He's here now, it's okay."
"But he'll go again. That's what mummy said." She sighs a bit. "Violet, you have a pretty name. I like you."
I smile. "That's sweet. I like you, too."
"I like you because Zayn likes you." She hops off the table just as Tricia comes to the door and tells us it's dinner time. I jump onto the grass and Safaa grabs hold of my hand. I cover my shock with a smile and walk her into the house.
--------
"It's the wedding tomorrow," Zayn tells me as I fluff up my pillow and cover myself with the blankets. He stands by his desk.
"I know," I say.
He comes over and climbs into the bed beside me. "Are you ready for it?"
"Ready?" I repeat. "What am I ready for?"
He looks at me and gives me a cheeky smile. "For showing my whole family that you're in love with me."
I roll my eyes. "Great. Do they know I'm your first girlfriend, too?"
His smile falls. "You still on that?" He lies down and flicks off the lamp, leaving us in darkness.
"Yes I am still on that, Zayn, because 'that' is actually quite a big deal." I roll over so that I'm facing him, my hands under the side of my cheek.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he sighs. "I just didn't think it mattered."
I suddenly remember something. "Hang on a second. You made such a big deal when I told your mum you were my first boyfriend," I say. "You totally made me feel so embarrassed, when you were in the same boat as me! You jerk!"
Zayn lets out a satisfied, deep laugh. "Yeaaap. I did do that."
I reach over and smack what I hope is his arm and shake my head, rolling back over. "You are unbelievable," I laugh.
"Thanks."
"Wasn't a compliment!" I sing.
"I feel like we've had this conversation before," he says. "Get some better insults, Princess."
"Safaa talked to me today," I say more quietly, looking forward in the direction of the wall. I play with a lose piece of string on the blanket that covers me.
"She did?" Zayn asks. "What'd she say?"
"She came up to me this evening when I was outside. She said she liked me." I give a small laugh.
Zayn doesn't say anything for quite some time. "She doesn't like many people," he says, and his voice is fainter. He's not facing me anymore. "Consider yourself lucky."
I don't reply. I think about the things Safaa told me, and about the wedding tomorrow. I'm a little scared. It's going to be so much harder to act when I'm around so many people that know Zayn. I wonder why I, honestly, accepted this whole thing.
My eyes flicker upwards and it's the first time I've ever looked at Zayn's ceiling. Because, I notice something I haven't yet. "You have stars on your roof," I say aloud, looking up at the glow in the dark stickers that cover the ceiling.
There's some shuffling around and then Zayn's voice is close. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Doniya put them up there ages ago. I never took them down. I like them."
I try and imagine Zayn lying down in his bed looking up at the stars, imagining they're real. I wonder what he thinks about when he sees them. "They're nice," I say.
"Yeah," he replies. "They look like the real deal, you know? I've always been jealous of them."
"Of stars?"
There's a bit of hesitation. "No one can reach them. They're free. And look at this." More shuffling. He's closer. So close I can feel his warmth. "If you look at one star for ages, it'll dim and fade away. Come on, try it."
I focus my eyes on the big glowing star in the middle and stare at it for a while. Eventually, I can't see it anymore. I grin. "Why does it do that?"
"Cool, huh? I think it's just like people," his voice has moved down to a softer, quieter tone. I turn to him and it's a bad idea because my head is right next to his. I'm on the edge of my pillow and he's on the edge of his. I don't move, neither does he. I can see the outline of him through the darkness.
"How so?" I whisper.
"Well, if you admire someone's beauty too much, it's gone. Lights can only be nice for a little while before they become blinding, fire warm before it becomes hot. Too much of a good thing and it's ruined." I can feel his hushed whisper on my skin. "You see?"
"Yeah," I whisper back. "I see."
I can almost see him smile and then he shuffles back, flipping onto his back and breaking off our close distance. I mirror his position and we both just gaze up at the stars, hands on our stomachs.
"The stars make me feel like I'm not so alone," I tell him honestly. "Because when you look at them, you know someone else is looking at them, too."
There's a long pause. "Why did you leave home, Princess?" Zayn asks suddenly.
I open my mouth to say something, but I can't think of a good enough lie. Why does Zayn want to know this all of a sudden? Why is it so important? My home life isn't to be spoken about, I don't like mentioning it. Or maybe, I just haven't mentioned it because no one brought it up. Zayn's curiosity makes me fearful, I've never known care like his before. I'm guarded.
"You're not the only one who's never felt at home," I say to him, leaving him with that cryptic answer and hopefully shutting him up. I roll over to face the wall and close my eyes. Zayn doesn't say anything and I eventually fall asleep.
--------
I'm sitting at the dining table the next day, eating breakfast with Zayn, when Doniya comes into the room dressed in a pink robe, her hair in a towel above her head. She looks at me as I bite into my toast. "Come on."
I swallow. "Sorry?" Am I missing something here?
Doniya over exaggeratedly sighs. "We need to get you ready! The wedding's this afternoon! We need to do your hair, your make up, get you an outfit, do your hands ..."
"Oh that's okay," I tell her. "I don't do that stuff, so-"
"Nah-uh," she says, walking over to the table and literally pulling me to my feet.
"Don, what are you doing?" Zayn sighs.
"Getting your girl all prettied up," she replies. "Come on, love."
Before I can protest, she's dragging me out the kitchen. I look back in fear at Zayn who just laughs and gives a salute. We arrive in the girl's bedroom and Doniya sits me down on a stool in front of her small chest of drawers.
I hadn't really put much thought into my appearance for the wedding, but I guess I should have. I can't really go how I usually look. So I'm kind of glad Doniya's going to dress me up, because I have no idea what to do. But I've seen her make up and I know I can never pull that off.
"Okay," Doniya says, grabbing another stool and sitting beside me. "You have a nice clean face, good. I can start."
"What exactly are you going to do?" I ask her, watching as she rummages around in her make up bag.
She smiles at me as she pulls out a tube of some sort of lotion. "Relax! I'm not going to turn you into a total skank, I just noticed you weren't into the beauty thing and realised I could help you out. I mean, for today at least. Wedding's are the perfect excuse to get totally glammed up. Close your eyes, please."
I do as she says. She's right, her help would be appreciated. And maybe if I looked more like Zayn's girlfriend and less like me, I'd find it easier to act like Zayn's girlfriend, and less like me. Doniya applies something cold and wet to my face and I pull away in disgust, opening my eyes. "What is that?" I eye the suspicious tube in her hands.
"Primer! Now close your eyes."
I sigh and close them again. She finishes applying the 'primer' then tells me to open my eyes again. "Now, you're a lot lighter than I am," she points out. "But I think this foundation will do." She pours some onto her hand and dabs a brush into the liquid, before applying it to my face.
"You have stunning cheek bones," she tells me, dabbing the brush along my cheek.
"Oh, thank you?"
"No problem. Waliyha and Zayn got my mum's ones, unfortunately," she says. "But I got the long eyelashes."
"Like Zayn," I say instinctively.
She smiles. "Yeah! He hates them, though. Claims he's the only boy that looks so girly or whatever." She rolls her eyes and I can't help but laugh.
"You should've seen him as a kid." She begins to dab some sort of power over my nose. "Cutest thing ever. Don't know what happened," she teases.
"He's still cute," I say, because I feel like I have to.
"Of course you would say that!" She dabs a large brush into pink powder and covers my cheeks. "You know, I think you're good for Zayn. He needs someone like you in his life." She puts her fingers above my eyes. "Eyes closed again, love."
My eyes snap shut and I feel something else wet and cold touch my eyelid. "Eyeliner," Doniya tells me.
"Why's that?" I ask her.
"Eyeliner?"
"No, me being good for Zayn."
"Oh." I blink and she tells me not to but it's really hard when there's something wet and cold and very stick like touching your eyelid. "You just seem different," Doniya continues. "Try and keep your eyes still! But anyway, mum was telling me just how much of a difference you've made on him so far."
The plan's working. Zayn's aim for this whole thing is turning out how he wanted, for his parents to see him differently. Because of me. I feel warm at the observation.
"I just hope he's not a total dick, like he always is, and breaks your heart," Doniya says and I bite down on my teeth a bit at the thought. Zayn and I never thought about dumping each other, it was just always about being convincing enough as a couple totally in love. But Doniya's words make me realise that somehow, this relationship has to end. After these two weeks Zayn and I will no longer be together. I don't know how we're going to end things, but I guess Zayn has a plan. This was his idea.
I laugh nervously. "Yeah ..."
"If he does, I'll kill him. I swear to god." Next is some sort of powder on my eyes. "Because I like you, Violet. You're a sweet girl. And you deserve way more than Zayn. And I don't know how the hell he got you, but I like you."
"Thanks," I tell her, because there's nothing else to say.
About ten or so minutes later, Doniya's finished with me. She makes a squeal of excitement and holds up a large mirror to me and I almost fall off my stool and die right there. I stare into the mirror at this girl that doesn't, in any way, resemble me. This girl has tinted skin, defined cheek structure, rosy cheeks, soft and lined lips. This girl has the most stunning eyes I've ever seen with brown eye shadows blending together to make her blue eyes absolutely stand out from miles away, and black eyeliner giving them an outline. Her eyebrows are darker, her lashes thick and long, her nose slimmer.
I put a hand up to my face, just to feel it and make sure it's real. I turn to Doniya who grins at me in expectation. I've never liked make up, but maybe that's just because I've never learnt how to do it. Because I certainly like this look. "Doniya ... I-"
"You like it?!" She cries.
"Like it? It's ... it's amazing! I look incredible. I look ... I look ..."
"Gorgeous," she finishes. "You look gorgeous." And before I can give a humble reply, she's standing me up again and rushing to her wardrobe.
"Now, the best part. The dressing up!" She opens the door and flicks through huge blocks of sequins and colours. I steal another glance at myself in the mirror again. I feel way more confident, more courageous. Looking like this I can do anything. It's like a mask, a way better cover up than my hair trick, and a way better looking one.
"Okay, so, you know what type of wedding this is, right?" She asks me, her voice muffled as it hits the clothes and not me.
"Uh, yeah. Zayn mentioned it. Muslim, right?"
She pulls out a light blue long skirt with a small cropped t-shirt to match. She holds it up to my body. "Perfect. The colour matches your eyes." She smiles at me. "Put them on, please."
I take the garments. "Oh. Um. Okay?" She heads back to the wardrobe as I strip down and pull on the skirt, then the shirt. The shirt shows off way more skin that I'd want it to, my whole stomach's exposed. I try and pull it down. "Um, I think this is too small," I tell Doniya.
She looks over at me and shakes her head. "It's perfect!" She then pulls out this stunning long piece of cloth. It's the same blue as what I'm wearing, with tints of purple and a darker blue near the bottom. Large sequins and glitter cover the entire piece and I stare at it like it's magic.
"Muslim weddings have different dress codes," Doniya tells me, holding up the cloth. "So, my dear, this is a sari."
I have heard of those before. I've seen them on television and read about them in books. I never actually thought I'd have to wear one, but then again that's something about this wedding I didn't consider. Of course! Zayn's sisters will be wearing them, so therefore I should, too. I'm kind of excited, because mine's so beautiful. This appearance is getting better and better.
"Don't worry, I'll help you put it on. I do Waliyha's and Safaa's all the time." Doniya holds the edge of the cloth to my hip and in just under five or so minutes, she's spun the cloth around my waist and pulled it up my body. I look at myself in the mirror again. The cloth covers the entire length of the skirt and then rises up my body, covering half my shirt, and stomach, as well. It then folds down my back and stops about midway. I spin around and grin madly to myself. I haven't felt so lovely in years.
"You are so cute," Doniya laughs at me. "We're still not done, though."
"There's more?" I gasp.
She points at my hair. "We have got to get rid of that pony tail."
I touch it nervously. I can't remember the last time I wore my hair out in public to a nice event. "Really?" I'm a little scared, I have to admit. I've always had it up. That's always been my look. I look at myself in the mirror again and realise there's nothing left of 'my look' anymore. I take my hair tie out and my hair falls down around my face in the dead straight manner it does.
"Wow, so you do have hair," Doniya teases. "Zayn seen this?"
I shake my head no.
She beckons me back over to the stool and I sit down as preciously as I can, trying not to wreck this pretty cover I'm in. I say nothing as I watch Doniya spray and brush my hair, tying my fringe back and fluffing up my hair so it has more volume. I watch as she sticks jewelled hair pins in my hair and places this gold hair piece over my head, the chains and charms dangling onto my forehead. I watch as she throws my hair more to the side, making it tumble over my shoulder. I watch as she replaces my pearls for dangling gold earrings with blue gemstones that match my outfit, and covers my wrists with bangles. I watch as she totally transforms me to be this stunning person, this fearless girl that can now do anything. I feel as close to beautiful as I'll ever be.
"God, I don't even recognise you," Doniya says as she stands back and admires her work.
I stand up and crush her into this huge hug, one like she gave me yesterday. She stumbles backwards and laughs before hugging me back.
"Thank you!" I cry, pulling away. "I can't thank you enough! I ..." I let out a small squeal.
"Let's go show everyone, yeah?"
The words cut my excitement short and make my stomach churn. I'm suddenly really nervous and care a whole damn lot about Zayn's reaction to seeing me like this. His opinion is suddenly the only one that matters to me. I mean, he's the only one that's really understood my usual look. This look is so much different. And I know it's not my new look forever, but it's a new look nonetheless.
Doniya stands by the door, still in her robe. "Everything okay?"
I gulp, clasping my hands together as they start to get really warm and sweaty really fast. "Yeah," I lie. "Let's, uh, go."
I follow Doniya down the hallway and hear voices, Zayn's voice stands out the most. I awkwardly enter the lounge, trying to not make such a loud jingle from my jewellery. I see Zayn. I see him before I see anyone else. He's in the lounge, his head down as he focuses on doing up his tie, and he's seriously struggling. He's dressed in a suit, and he looks really good. Like, really really good. And my heart's beating so damn fast that I'm afraid he can hear it. Before Doniya can say anything, he looks up.
It's like the whole world just stops, for that moment only. The noise around us, any sign or movement of life. The minute his eyes lay on me, he stops moving, too. His fingers stop fiddling with his tie and it just hangs there and I can't breathe. I can't breathe because he's just looking at me. Looking at me like he's seeing me for the first time. His eyes are wide, his mouth open, his entire body frozen. There's something in his eyes, something I've never seen before. It dominates the shock, the surprise, it's almost like ... admiration.
I step more into the clearing and Zayn snaps out of whatever trance he's in just enough to step forward towards me. He trips on the edge of the couch and stumbles and I bite my lip to stifle a giggle, because he's still not paying any attention towards anything else but me. It's making me feel hot and all blushy and I can't stop giggling. I blink, feeling my thick eyelashes hit my cheeks as I give him a shy smile.
"Holy shit," he breathes as he nears me. "You're beautiful."
There's something about the way he says you're and not you look. Something about the way his voice is exasperated, breathless. Something about the way his hands are slightly shaking. Something about the way his eyes are like the brightest lights I've ever seen and they're shining down on me, and nothing else. Something about his quivering lips and the way he keeps blinking, as if he doesn't think it's real. Something about it all that just makes me overwhelmed with happiness.
"Doesn't she look great?!" Doniya claps, finally breaking the little trance Zayn and I seem to be in.
I tear my eyes away from him to smile at her, just as the rest of the family come piling in the gawk at me. It's a lot of attention, but I actually like it for once. Waliyha mumbles that I look better than her in her own sari, Tricia almost breaks down in tears, Safaa keeps grinning, but I don't care about any of them, in the most nicest way. I look back over at Zayn who's still staring. He finally snaps out of it and just goes, "I think I need some air", and then hurries out.
And I don't know why, but I can't stop smiling. And my heart can't stop flipping and my stomach can't stop jumping and my limbs can't stop shaking because Zayn thinks I'm beautiful.
SAHGDAHdfasgdfgafddsHGFFSD OMFG YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MUCH I WAS SMILING DURING THAT LAST PART I CAN JUST PICTURE IT ALL AND JUST OH MY GOD ISNT IT CUTE YES FUCK ITS SO CUTE ZAYN LIKE LOOKING UP THEN SEEING HER AND JUST YOURE BEAUTIFUL AS IN HER AS A WHOLE AND EEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKK literally crying. I hope you all like this chapter omg it only gets better from here. (ITS SO CUTE IM DYING BEAUTIFUL SHES BEAUTIFUL HES SPEECHLESS) kbye xxxxxxxxxxx