Poetry - Zayn Malik Fanfiction

Zayn Malik. He's sweet and caring. Never would he hurt a soul. That's his cover. His dirty past is built of lies and destruction. He finds a girl, a girl by the name of Noel. What keeps them sane? Poetry.

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26. “Exhaustion without reward is torture.”

“Exhaustion without reward is torture.” ― Kerlynne Ferrer

Zayn was heavier than he looked.

He was leaning against Noel’s side, trudging beside her into his house. It was only three thirty, but Zayn was acting as if it was the middle of the night. He was dead tired.

“Okay,” Noel said quietly, grasping Zayn’s arm. He yawned, leaning over. She stumbled back. “Alright, alright. Stand up a bit.”

Zayn groaned, saying nothing. He didn’t stand up straighter. Sighing, Noel brought him into his room. She gently rolled him onto his bed. He immediately shut his eyes, his facial features softening. Noel bent down. “Do you want to change into your pajamas?”

Zayn shook his head, rolling over. He buried his head in the pillow.

“I’ll just let you sleep.”

Noel smiled against Zayn’s cheek, kissing softly. “Hope you get better, honey.” Zayn didn’t respond, he just breathed out. He was asleep.

“Alright then,” Noel whispered, slowly walking out of the room. She looked around, wondering whether to leave or stay. Her eyes traveled to the art room. Smiling, she walked up to it, stepping in. The familiar graffiti covered every inch of the walls, with drawers and canvases against the wall. A chair and desk sat in the middle, with pencils and markers. She traveled to the drawers.

“Drawings,” she said out loud, reading the drawer on the side. It was a small one, with the label almost unreadable. Maybe it was secret.

Still, she opened it.

There were only two white papers in it, with drawings with pencil. Noel took them out, wetting her lips. Sitting down, she looked at the top one.

It was a portrait of Megan Fox, with an actual red fox tail. Noel laughed, shaking her head with a smirk. She looked at the paper as she put it on the floor. Turning her head back up, she laid her eyes on the lower one.

“Oh my fucking God.”

It was Noel, the face expertly drawn, nothing wrong with it. The shocking thing was the body. She was sketched with no clothes on at all, fully naked. Nothing covered at all.

Noel felt her mouth drop open. “Really, Zayn?” she whispered, heart racing. She put it under the other photo, quickly shutting the drawer and standing up. Is that what Zayn does in his free time?

She walked out of the room.

Tomorrow I need to talk with him.

 

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Hey! Little side note here. Sorry for the short chapter, they usually don't end to fast. And guys, I really really enjoy comments. (Hint hint) 

                                                                           - Hanna

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