Our Modern Fairytale (ZM) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 6.

My hand moves over the sketch book, almost like my mind is directing it without me, odd perhaps, but that's the way it is. My hand moves instinctively to the right spot, building a new picture, often one I have never seen before or maybe I have. Something I can't recognise, yet I have seen this, not many times, but I surely have.

With my hand moving in  full speed, covering the page with the black shade of the pencil, something keeps on creating until I stop and admire it when it completes.

What is it?

I have no idea when my sketch book came out of my bag and my hands starting moving all over the page with my pencil, creating something.

"Looks like someone is into arts," I hear a familiar voice from beside me, when I notice a pair of sneakers on my side, only for me to look up and meet the hazel eyes.

"Looks like someone is into smoking," I reply in the same tone when I watch him take a long drag from the cigarette between his fingers.

"What are you drawing?" Zayn questions, crouching down and sitting beside me on the grass as his eyes travel all over my sketch book and I quickly shut it, bringing it closer to my chest, and wrapping my arms around it like an over protective mother would do with her child. Or over protective teenagers now adays when it comes to their mobile phones.

"Who told you, you could sit here with me?" I turn my face to look at him, raising an eye brow. He sits beside me with his legs closer to his chest and one hand wrapped around them while the other holding the cigarette, with him blowing smoke out of his mouth.

"I don't need anyone's permission," he speaks, when his free hand moves to fix his hair, and that's when my eyes land on the tattoo on the back of his hand. My eyes widen and I quickly pull away my sketch book from me, opening the page I was sketching on earlier, covering it from Zayn.

"What the..." I trail off under my breath once I notice what I have done. The sketch I have been making absentmindedly is the tattoo on the back of Zayn's left hand. My eyes travel back to his hand and then back to my sketch, I repeat the process for at least five times, with Zayn paying no attention to my staring as he continues to smoke, until his face turns towards my direction and his eye brows slightly knitt together.

"What happened, Ellie Gould-"

Not even letting him complete his sentence, I quickly get up from the grass, flicking off the slight dust from my jeans, and adjust my hoodie to walk away from him.

I take long strides to ignore him behind me, carrying my bag in one hand, while my sketch book in the other.

How is it possible that I've been drawing the sketch of Zayn's tattoo without even having a clue about it?

"Wait, where are you going?" Zayn's face quickly appears in front of me as he stands at my front, blocking my way and I give him an irritated look, trying to walk past him.

"I think that's none of your concern," I say, not looking at him as I walk past him, only for him to again rush by my side, walking next to me.

"Why are you behaving like this?" His voice comes out in an irritated tone, but I still don't look at him, supporting my bag on my shoulder and looking at the grass below while walking on it.

"Like what?"

"You're not even looking up at me. Seems like you're ignoring me," he says in a monotone.

"Is it bothering you?" I ask.

"Ofcourse it is. I want to know the reason why you're behaving like this," he says, causing for me to stop in my tracks and give out a loud sigh as his eyes burn through me and I finally look up at him; our eyes meeting.