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.


25. “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.”

“If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” - Frederick Douglass

Noel pushed the door to Zayn’s hospital room, rushing in. It was the next day, early in the morning. Seven thirty.

“Hello, Noel.” Noel looked up to see the doctor, but she just ignored him. All she saw was Zayn.

Zayn was sitting up in his bed, dressed in the blue hospital gown. Tired and exhausted he looked like, with his hair down and ruffled, obviously not combed for days. He was looking up at Noel, his expression unreadable.

“Zayn,” Noel breathed, jogging up to the side of his bed. She pressed her hand against his flat chest. “H-how are you?” She breathed out shakily, relief waving over her body.

“Eh, okay.” He didn’t even look into her eyes. He just looked at a nonspecific spot on the wall. He sighed.

“What’s wrong with him?” Noel mouthed, looking up at the doctor, who was pacing back and forth. He stroked his grey beard.

“I told you, his emotional state would change. Right now he’s sad and disappointed.” He rested his hand on Zayn’s shoulder for a moment, making Zayn slowly look up at him. “So, overall he could be called… dull.”

Noel looked down at Zayn, furrowing her eyebrows. “Will he be better tomorrow?”

“Probably, after a good night’s rest.”

“O-okay.” Noel stroked Zayn’s beard with her thumb. She bent down and lightly kissed his nose, avoiding his mouth being the doctor was watching her. “I’m really glad you’re alright.”

He rubbed his nose. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Noel sighed, obviously hurt. She knew he couldn’t control how he felt, but she knew that she felt worthless at the moment.

“Are you happy to see me?” Her voice came out cracked.

“Yeah.” Noel caught a glimpse of a smile on him, just a bit. That gave her hope. She stood up taller, looking at the doctor.

“Can I drive him home?”

“Yes. But only home. He needs to sleep to mend his emotional state.”

“Okay,” Noel nodded slowly, eyes lingering on Zayn’s. His eyes didn’t look normal. They looked almost empty.

“You can leave as soon as you want.” The doctor walked up to Noel. “I can pull the curtain. I suggest you help him change into his normal clothes. He’s really tired and you can say lazy.”

Noel blushed. “Okay.” She looked around. “Where’s his clothing?”

He turned around and pointed to the counter. Zayn’s clothes lay folded on it, boxers on the side and shoes on the other.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two alone. Just come out to the front office when you’re done. I’ll let you go then.” He stepped out, gently closing the curtain. Noel turned to Zayn.

“Alright.” Noel clasped her hands together, grinning. “Wanna get up?”

“Why?” Zayn slowly put the blanket down to his feet, rubbing his eye.

“Don’t you want to get out of that starchy gown?”

“I guess.” Zayn shrugged, getting up. He was hunching over, not in his usual straight position.

Noel walked up to him. “Arms up,” she instructed. Zayn hesitantly put his arms up, bending over. He seemed confused, but still he listened. She tugged off the gown. It slid over spine and shoulders smoothly, coming over his head. She dropped it to the ground.

He stood up, face a bit red when he realized he was fully naked. “Ehm…”

“Zayn,” Noel took his boxers from the counter, handing it to him. “I’ve seen you naked before.”

“Yeah,” Zayn mumbled, sliding his boxers on. He stumbled back, pressing his hand against the wall.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Zayn put on the rest of his clothes slowly, eyes straying away from Noel’s. Noel felt like she was being ignored, even disliked.

And she hated it.

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