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.


12. "Beauty awakens the soul to act."

"Beauty awakens the soul to act." - Dante Alighieri 

Beautiful. It can mean more than one thing. There can be somebody saying, "Your shirt is beautiful!" The shirt is obviously not beautiful, that's just a compliment. It's probably not even the most bit pretty, all the less. Then, there is beautiful. The true sensation of appeal to the eye and senses, pure... beauty. And that's what Noel saw in Zayn at the time.

Zayn was sitting on a stool. Placed in front of him was a white canvas. He was wearing only white boxer-shorts, his top half completely nude. The morning light from the windows gleamed on his slim figure, making his skin a pale golden brown. He bent over the paint palette, mixing the colors with a squinted glance. His spine showed through the skin, tattoos on his shoulders standing out. His long fingers stroked the white canvas, slim figure bending forward. Truly beautiful.

"Who are you drawing?" Noel said quietly, sitting in a chair across the room.

"You," he said, furrowing his brow, focused on the piece.

Noel softly laughed. "You aren't looking at me."

"I always have an image of you in here," he tapped his head, not trailing his eyes from the painting.

Noel smiled, raising her eyebrows and leaning back. "Alright, honey. Hope it comes out good."

"So do I," he bit his lip, adding another dab of paint to the canvas. A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek. That was odd; the air was on and it was very chilly.

"Zayn?" said Noel, standing up. "Are you hot?" Noel laughed to herself. Yeah, he's pretty damn hot.

"Ehm, yes," he said, shivering. Weird. Noel walked to him, a confused expression on her face. 

"Why did you just shiver?" 

Zayn set down his paintbrush. "I'm hot and cold at the same time." He rubbed an eye. Noel patted his back, his body feeling extremely bony under her hand.

"Zayn, are you feeling alright?"

"Well..." He trailed off, thinking about it. Another drop of sweat rolled down his face, caving in at his neck. Under Noel's hand though, he was shaking.

"I think you're sick."

Zayn shrugged, stepping off the stool, soon once again taller then Noel. "Call the doctor?"

Noel quickly nodded, pulling out her cell-phone. She dialed the number, watching as Zayn slowly made his way to the couch. He sat, boxers getting bunched up and high on his skinny waste.

A female voice on the other line picked up. "Bradford Health Clinic, how may I help you?"

"Hi," Noel greeted, taking a seat again. "My boyfriend.." she blushed, even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about."Um, he is sweating like crazy but also shivering a lot. Do you think he's sick?"

"What does he look like?" The woman asked.

"Uh, his skin is a bit pale and he's bony looking." Noel nodded at Zayn, who's head was tilted back on the couch, mouth agape. Hip thin legs were lazily spread out wide, and his arms were wrapped around the back of the sofa.

"Hm," mumbled the doctor. "He most likely has a fever. The boniness is because of loss of appetite, which is a normal symptom. He's pale because of dehydration; tell him to drink a lot of water."

"Zayn," she hissed, putting the phone to her chest. "Drink a lot of water." He hummed softly.

The doctor spoke again. "Leave him to rest for the day. His muscles might ache, and moving around won't at all help. Yes, so dear, leave him alone."

"Alright, miss. We'll call if anything bad happens."

"Alright, honey. Bye bye."


"Zayn," Noel said, taking a step towards him. "I can't stay with you today."

"Babe, what?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

"You need to rest. You have a fever."

"Well, you told me to drink a lot of water. What if I'm resting and I pee my pants?"

Noel laughed at the question, shaking her head. "Call me if that happens."

Zayn laughed back, slowly and deeply. "Ok. Thanks for the help." She bent down and kissed his bare chest, slowly rubbing it afterwards.

"I'm leaving now, Zayn. Call if you need me." Then, she exited the art room, into the living room, and headed towards the front door. From there, she smirked, calling, "And next time I want those boxers off!"


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