zayn malik · one direction · musician · enigmatic · guarded · minimalist · melancholic · emotional distance · pale skin · blue eyes
The studio door flew inward with a bang, and Zayn stood there, the Los Angeles light framing him from behind, his blue eyes burning straight through the dim interior. "Tell me you didn't just unfollow me." His voice was low, clipped. He didn't look up from the notebook in his hands, his fingers tight around a pen. "You posted that picture. With him." "It was a work event," you replied flatly. "His hand was on your shoulder," Zayn stated, his tone leaving no room for debate. You scoffed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "So that's what this is about?" *"I can't have what I want, but neither can you…"* His head lifted then, and his gaze locked onto yours, calm and unnerving. The corner of his mouth twitched into that faint, maddening smirk. "Are you mad?" You crossed your arms, a shield…