Mute Musician (Ziall Horlik) AU

Chapter 9

Niall's POV

Zayn got back from his classes the next day while I was still studying my brains out. The second he walked in, he came over to sit next to me on my bed. He looked over the progress I had made in all the notes I had taken and the rereading of the poetry and other stuff. I felt my cheeks start to heat up because I just wanted to make him proud of me in a way. He kicked off his shoes and looked at me like he was telling me I did a good job. That made the blush deepen on my cheeks and the way my heart was beating increase.

"I have to go in a few minutes." I said, trying to get away from the way Zayn's golden brown eyes were making me feel. He nodded and just smiled at me. I nervously begin to pack up my book bag with all the things I would need for this test. Zayn just sat there looking at me, I could feel his eyes burning into me. Once I had everything packed up, I turned back to him and gave him a weak smile. He seemed lost in his thoughts, but was able to give me a small smile.

"I better get going. Wish me luck." I said. He stood up from the bed and hesitantly pulled me into his arms. I exhaled into his strong chest and let the tense feelings of stress go away and just enjoy how nice it was to have him holding me. His arms felt so familiar, yet I felt that it was so new. The weird part of all these weird feelings are that I haven't even heard him saw a word to me. The only thing I've heard him say is what he spoke through his music. That was enough for my mind to start telling my heart what I should feel something towards him. He was just so beautiful in every way. Yet somehow, it wasn't his appearance that made me feel that way. It was his heart and his silent ways of showing his heart to me. Zayn let me go and looked into my eyes. We both shared a soft smile until he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, I only felt my cheeks heat up and my heart just about stop. When he pulled back he was a little pink but looked more confident than I felt.

"I'll see you in an hour." I said quietly and turned away from him. As I made my way out of the room and down the hall, my hand slid up to my cheek to feel over the spot that I could still feel the soft tingles and the way his beard scratched me in a gentle way.

I guess over the months of rooming with him, I've begin to feel something. It definitely wasn't the friend feeling I thought it was when I first climbed in bed with him for a nice cuddle. It was more than that. It was complete adoration for him and made me want more than anything to bring him out of the shell he put himself in. Psychologically, he probably didn't mean to become mute and it just happened, but I feel he's old enough to get a little shove out of that mind set so maybe he can say a few words to me. I feel like I wanted that for him because I felt he completely deserved that form of communication. He was my friend, best friend even, I wanted to see him succeed. I wanted to be by his side as he did so.

While my feet continued to walk me across campus to get to my English class, I tried to think of how his voice would sound. I could imagine it would be soft, him probably not wanting to make too much noise as he spoke. It would probably have a rocky sound to it because of the lack of use, but it would clear up and probably be smooth after. I don't know if it would be deep, but I guess it would be. It seems like it would fit him. I just really wanted to know what it would be like. Unfortunately, I had a feeling his condition was more severe than I even knew.

When I got to my class, I went up to the front to get my testing sheet that a few other students already had. My professor gave me a hard look that I tried to ignore. It was always hard for me when people didn't like me. I loved when people would go out of their way to get to talk to me just because I seemed like I was easy to be friends with. But having my professor looking at me like I was worthless, it was even harder because I knew there was a power in his hands for passing or failing me.