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.


31. “The heart was made to be broken.”

“The heart was made to be broken.” – Oscar Wilde

The earthquake was the topic of basically everything, even two weeks later. All the news stations where buzzing about it. Every time, every day.

“Earthquake victims found under ruins of a shelf inside an abandoned house. Luckily, they are still alive.”

“The bridge from the earthquake is finally fixed. People are all rejoicing.”

Noel didn’t understand the point, being the earthquake was literally eight seconds long. But, it was the only thing that ever really happened in Bradford, being it was pretty temperate, temperature wise.

By then, her neck was better, except for a few cuts. Luckily, the glass didn’t go deep enough to hurt her brain in any way. She was grateful for that.

Zayn and Noel where lying on her twin bed, squeezing together. Zayn was practically against the wall. It was morning, 8 A.M., and they both just woke up.

“I love seeing you wake up,” Zayn whispered, kissing Noel’s cheek. His heat radiated off his body onto Noels. She put her leg across his waste.

“Why?” Her hand traveled to his bare chest. “My hair looks like it’s been attacked by a savage beaver.”

“What the heck?” Zayn laughed, sitting up. “Noel, get ready. After, I need to tell you something important.”

She tensed. “That can’t be good.” Zayn shook his head, looking down. She sat up, walking to her dresser. Fishing out a shirt and pants, she glanced at Zayn. He looked glum. She was worried.

Soon, she was ready, hair finally tamed after several painful strokes. She dressed in some plain attire, not bothering to look as good in front of Zayn as she used to. He’s seen her in several states, even her worst ones.

“So,” Noel tempted. “What did you want to tell me?” She sat next to Zayn. He was shaking, literally shaking. She felt a wrench deep in her stomach, afraid. Whatever he was going to say, it obviously wasn’t good.

“Okay, so,” Zayn looked up, sadness is his brown eyes. “I got accepted into college.”

Noel beamed, hugging Zayn with all her might. She laughed. “I’m so proud of you!” He pushed her off, making her feel unsettled. She placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing a bit. Her heart raced. “What’s with you?”

“I love you.” She was confused, but as he firmly pressed his lips against hers, she brushed it aside. The kiss was a sad kiss; usually Zayn was softer and more motioning when kissing, but at the time it was slow, painful, lifeless. She sat back.

“Zayn,” she stated. She needed to say no more. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“The college is in Paris.”

Noel stopped everything. She stopped breathing, even. “Paris?”   She blinked. “As in Paris, France?”

“Yes,” Zayn sighed, head down once again. “That’s the one.” He was crying. Soon she was hugging him tightly. She wanted to make him know it was okay, even though she knew the hard truth.

“Zayn,” she said softly, voice cracking. “Zayn Zayn Zayn Zayn Zayn.” She didn’t even realize she was crying until she wiped a tear away. They were one sad lump, sitting in a messy bed on a chill morning in Bradford. “D-do you have to move?”

He kissed her cheek gently, saying. “Yes,” his voice was raspy. “Far far away.” She started laughing, quietly, slowly increasing into a loud crescendo. Zayn started laughing too, even harder. Pure hysteria. It died down soon, the reality hitting them.

       They would have to break up.


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