Heartstrings ➳ z.m.

four - skylar

Chapter Four – Skylar

            I hadn’t seen Louis in a little over a week. Not that I was surprised, being that he was a celebrity, and probably had a lot better things to do than stop and chat with little old me.

            I just thought that we were getting on well, or something. I must have been mistaken.

            And yes, admittedly, I did want to see Zayn again. He was intriguing.

            “Skylar!” Michael hissed at me, and I sighed, looking up from my phone with a bored expression. Yes, I had been spending all of my free time (which wasn’t much, since I spent half of my time here, half of my time in classes, and the other bit of time—that didn’t even logically exist—doing work) looking up One Direction. It wasn’t that I liked them, or anything; I just wanted to know more about the guy that I had been talking to.

            I definitely didn’t like Louis.

            At all.

            Not one bit.

            Definitely not.

            Impossible.

            “Skylar!”

            I blinked, whipping my head toward Michael, a blush fanning over my cheeks. “Yes?”

            A frown etched onto his face, and he brought his dark brows together, jabbing his thumb in the direction of two boys that I hadn’t even noticed there. Both of them were wearing hoodies and sunglasses—I never understood how people could do that indoors—and one of them had a firm grip on the other’s bicep.

            Just like how Louis had held Zayn.

            No, I reprimanded myself, you are definitely not allowed to think about Louis at all because you don’t like him.

            “These guys were asking for you, Sky,” Michael told me, and I nodded, slipping from behind the register (there was nobody in here to ring up, anyway) and walked over to the guys.

            “May I help you?”

            “What have you done?” A very, very familiar voice hissed at me, and I frowned.

            “Louis?”

            He nodded jerkily, and I could feel his icy cold stare through his thick lenses. Why was he so upset with me? I hadn’t done anything! “What did you do?” He spat again.

            I took a step back, swallowing and running my hand through my hair, forgetting that I had it in a ponytail. “I don’t know!”

            Louis groaned, face-palming himself and staring at me with such intensity that it hurt. “What did you do to Zayn?”

            “What are you talking about?” I glanced at the boy beside Louis, and as far as I could see, he still looked the same. What was Louis going on about? “Really, I don’t know what I did.”

            I watched as he bit his lip, before sighing, releasing his hold on Zayn. “It’s been eight days and he hasn’t even finished his sketchbook!”

            I gave him a stony stare. “That has to do with me, how?”

            “He normally does it in half the time!” He ground out, teeth gnashed together. He knocked back his hood to run his hands through his hair, his fingers threading through the strands easily.

            I wonder what it’d be like to touch his hair…

            No, Sky, not the time.

            “I still don’t see how this involves me!”

            “He’s always finished his book in four days or less,” Louis told me, taking off his sunglasses so I could really see the concern swimming in his eyes. “Always. Until we met you.”

            I frowned, my gaze falling to the floor. Why did he have to say it in such an accusatory tone? I hadn’t purposefully done anything to him! “But isn’t that a good thing, anyway? That he’s willingly breaking his schedule? Isn’t that what you want?”

            Louis’ mouth fell open, and I realized that he hadn’t even pondered that piece of information. All that was going through his mind was that Zayn had met me and he had changed, which is something that he never did. “You managed to accomplish something in a day that we’ve been trying years to do.”

            I wanted to ask him if they had really been ‘trying’ (because from what I had seen, they had simply gone along with his weird schedule, instead of trying to force him out of it), but decided against it when I saw the look of awe on Louis’ face.

            “I’m amazed.”

            I gave a soft smile, and he looked at his watch. “Have to go back so that Zayn can have lunch, but… I’m wondering… If you could make Zayn change like that in a day… What would happen if you spent more time with him?”

            I raised my brows, biting my lip. Louis wanted me to spend more time with them? Well, Zayn, but ultimately him as well. “I’d definitely like to find out.”

            Louis nodded, and the next thing I knew, he was pulling a Sharpie from his pocket, scribbling a number down on my arm. “Text me as soon as you get off. And don’t share my number, promise?”

            I only nodded in response, because I didn’t trust myself to speak.

            Louis smirked, replacing his hood and sunglasses, and turned to leave. He faltered slightly, told me, “I thought I told you I liked you better with your hair down,” and left.

            I tried to wait ten full seconds after Louis left, but I ended up only making it to three.

            I screamed, I danced, I squealed, I laughed. I looked at the number that had been scribbled on my arm and then did it all over again.

            I was so cool.

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And thus the real story begins!

On another note, I've totally over used the parenthesis and italics in this chapter because I'm not allowed to use them in Zayn's.