"Art doesn't just get created on its own." you explained with hand gestures as you reached into the small painted can filled with various types of paintbrushes.

I would've thought you would've grabbed the biggest brush or maybe even the cleanest, but instead you got the smallest one that was covered completely in paint.

I smiled, realizing that I was completely impressed with your choice.

Casey had raised her hand, making me roll my eyes as you chuckled.

My lips parted for I didn't mean for you to see that. You then said, "You're question Casey?"

She cleared her throat as she puckered up her lips more and said, "We'll how is art created then Mr. Malik?"

You can hear her nasal voice trying to sound as seductive as possible and though people get annoyed I got to give her credit she did sound pretty seductive.

You cleared your throat, making me look back at you as you stared into my eyes.

You opened your mouth and said, "You to need to imagine it first, and then show it off."


8. candy

It's early Sunday, and by early I mean five in the morning. Yesterday, after Liam had ordered some takeout food and finished reading his comic he left, leaving an entire night to myself.

That was before Zayn texted me, explaining that he was bored and just wanted to chat for a little while. Normally this would've been weird for me 'cause he's my professor, but it honestly didn't feel one bit weird for me. We texted for hours, talking about our likes and dislikes, favorite subjects, paintings, places we'd like to travel. Turns out we had a lot in common too, making our conversations more at an ease state rather then an awkward silence.

A yawn escaped my lips as I grabbed and pulled off my sheets. I stand up and stretch my arms, while walking out of my bedroom. I being the little piggy that I am, end up scratching my butt and hair like a monkey while walking into the cold tiled bathroom.

"Another day, another fixing." I mutter to myself as I look at my reflection in the mirror.

Let's get to work.


I had told Zayn that I was arriving around twelve today and seeing that it was already 12:35 I might as well drop in. I take the elevator up to his floor and wait patiently before seeing it open. I walk out and head over to Zayn's door, knocking on the wooden door as I hear shuffling from the other side.

The door opens, making me smile as I see Zayn standing there in a tank top with his regular jeans and a nice beanie on his head.

He smiles back at me and says, "Hey, come on in."

I thank him as I head inside, having him close the door behind me. He then puts his hand on my lower back and gestures me to follow him to the living room once more.

As we walk in my smile immediately drops as I see the last person I ever wanted to see. I no longer feel Zayn's hand and instead feel like I'm about to lose my mind.

"Candy, what a pleasant surprise!" says Casey as she puts on her famous evil grin and waves. She was putting on her leather jacket, meaning she was leaving.

"Casey, what're you doing here?" I asked with fake curiosity. She gives me a weird look as I come and sit on the sofa. She then sits down as well, making me mentally roll my eyes.

"Oh just finishing up with Zayn's paintings." She finishes as my eyes widen. He's using her face, on my body?!

I give a fake smile as I say, "Oh that's amazing!"

I notice Zayn isn't in the room, meaning he went to go bring some more supplies from his art room.

Casey then looks straight at me and says, "What are you doing here? This is my man. I called dibs!"

"Dibs? Really? What are we twelve?" I said as she rolls her eyes at me.

"Whatever just back away from my man." She says as she points her fake nails at me.

"I'm just here to chill and hang, nothing else." I admit. Though now that I say it I kind of wished it wasn't true.

"Well honey after getting laid with him today, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't degrade himself with someone like you." She finishes off as she grabs her purse and walks to the front door. She then shouts, "Bye Zayn, it was a pleasure coming over!"

She then smirks at me and walks out the door, leaving me shocked and hurt. Soon after Zayn appears with a crate full of paints. I shoot up from my seat and say, "I gotta go."

His smile drops immediately as he says, "What? Why?"

"I'm sorry, but find yourself a new model because I quit." I say as I prepare myself to walk out. He then puts the crate on the table and crosses his arms saying, "You can't do that. This is your only way to repay for-"

"I'll pay you back with cash, I'll just get a well paid job and work my ass off to pay you back." I say as I walk towards the front door. I felt a grip on my wrist and soon see Zayn search my face and look deeply into my eyes.

"Tell me the real reason." he says sternly.

He wants the truth? Fine, I'll give him the truth.

"It's cause you slept with that slut! I don't want that slut around, she is the last person I want in my painting!

"And God I was actually starting to like you and I can't believe I even thought of-" I got cut off as he pressed his lips to mine. They molded perfectly as he rests his hands on my hips, while pulling me in for a deeper kiss.

This was wrong, but it felt so amazing that I couldn't just stop it. I realized that my hands were roaming up his body and into his hair, tugging at it as he moaned into our heated make out.

Candy! Stop this now! He slept with Casey!

I did exactly what my brain told me. I broke the kiss and said, "What the fuck? You just slept with Casey and now you're trying to-"

I was interrupted yet again as he said, "Wait, what? I didn't sleep with Casey."

"Yeah right." I said as he sighed and said, "I'm telling you the truth. I didn't sleep with her. She only came here to buy and pick up a sculpture I had made for her family."

He had a solid story, meaning he was telling the truth. My hand covered my mouth as I felt terrible for believing that bitch.

"Zayn I'm so sorry!" I said as he looked at me shocked.

"Why so shocked?"

"Just that you never call me Zayn. It's always Malik." He answers as I realized that he was right.

It was my turn to now ask a question.

"Why'd you kiss me?" I asked as he looked down and scratched his head.

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