You had me at hello - a Zayn Malik fan fiction (not famous)

19 years old Irene has a normal boring life in Italy, until the day she leaves for the U.K. with her best friend Alice. There, she meets Zayn, the most beautiful boy she has ever seen.
Love, friendship, jealousy and drama mess up Irene's new life, giving her the chance to find what she has been looking for.


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2. The mysterious boy in the pictures

When all of your flaaaws, and all of my flaws are laid out one by one..”

I’m obsessed with this song, from the first time I heard it. I’ve always had the habit of listening to music while cleaning: it gives the proper energy!

The Maliks are out, the house is completely empty, so I can sing along to Dan’s sweet voice. I’m setting the bed, with my earphones on; then I sweep the floor, and I take the stepladder, in order to put the window curtains on. While I’m on the highest step, the song “Pompeii” begins, and I can’t help singing out loud, without any shyness.

BUT IF YOU CLOSE YOUR EEEEEYES! DOES IT ALMOST FEEL LIKE NOOOOOTHING CHANGED AT AAALL, BUT I YOU CLO-“

“Y-yeah, I like that song too.”

A male voice coming from behind me makes me jolt. I just get a glimpse of a male figure standing by the door before losing my balance; the guy makes a sudden move and grabs me, trying to save me from a disastrous landing on the floor, but I trail him down with me, falling on top of him.

“OUCH!” he screams, being crushed by my body.

“Oh god, sorry sorry sorry sorry!” I apologize while rapidly getting up, and then I help him standing up too. That’s when I’m finally able to see him clearly: dark straight hair, olive skin and that unique smile. I’ve just fallen on top of the mysterious guy from the pictures.

“A-are you mrs. Malik’s son?” I ask weakly, trying not to blush.

“Zayn. My name is Zayn.”

“Oh, pleased to meet you, I’m Irene. Again, sorry for hurting you, but you got me by surprise and I lost my ba-..”

“Don’t worry, seriously.” He laughs a little. “That song from Bastille can be very captivating” he mocks me, and now my cheeks are on fire for the embarrassment.

“Do you want to drink something, before getting back to work” he suggests. Not only very handsome, he’s got also a fascinating low voice that, matched with his particular accent, gives me goose bumps.

“Thank you!” I nod.

He leads me to the kitchen, and offers me a sit.

“So… you come from Italy, don’t you?”

“Yep. Have you ever been there?”

“No, I’ve never been out of the U.K.. I barely stepped out of Bradford!” he explains, while bringing some cold drinks from the fridge.

“Ice tea or orange juice?”

“Ice tea, please!”

While he serves me the drink, I notice his hands. Long, tapered fingers. They’re very cute.

“Are you at University?” I ask, trying to turn my eyes away.

“Yeah, I study English literature. I want to become a teacher!”. Well it would make a very hot teacher.

“Oh, interesting! I’ve always wanted to study cinematography, finger crossed!”

“Wow, cool! And did you come to England all by yourself?”

“No, I’m here with my best friend. We felt the urge to have a change of scenery, and, you know, leaving together is definitely different from leaving alone!”

“Well, it still has been a brave decision!” Zayn comments with a serious expression on his face. “I mean, I don’t know if I would have had the strength to leave my family, my friends, my house.. I’m kind of a “mama boy”” he shyly smiles, staring at me. I struggle to fight the urge to hug him and squeeze him in my arms.

“Sometimes the need to change your life is stronger than fears!”

He looks at me in admiration, then takes a sip of ice tea, and changes the subject of our conversation.

“Have you been around Bradford? Have you met anyone?”

“Well, I spend most of my time here or running from pubs to restaurants and so on, looking for another job, and Alice…well, she made friends with some of her colleagues, but we’ve been here for just a month now, so… I guess it’s too soon to say that we’ve familiarized with our surroundings!”

“Why don’t you come out with me and my friends tomorrow? We usually meet at a pub and then go dancing somewhere, if we are in the right mood…”

He’s eyelashes are so black and long, I might lose myself in his gaze.

“Oh, well…thank you! It would be really cool!”

I try playing it cool but, truth is, I’m already panicking: I  know I only met this guy, but there’s something special about him, and I have this funny feeling in my stomach that makes me think that tomorrow night won’t be easy for me.

We make arrangements for tomorrow, and then I go back to work, while he goes in his room. It takes me some time to bring my heart beat back to normal.

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