Care for me (L. S.)

24

Flash forward | Sunday the 4th of October | Zayn

A/n: yoww! um I don't know anything ab swimming so I made some shīt up. (also dunno if I told you but english is not my first language so google translate is responsible for weird translations.) ok that was all. hope you enjoy!

The plastic chair was red and squeaky and annoying, being attached to the ground with a metal bar so you were unable to move it. It was uncomfortable too, while it made your bum hurt if you sat on it for longer than ten minutes, plus it was too close to the row in front of you, so no one could stretch their legs. Everything felt useless, more so than usual. He hated well everything!

It wasn't only the chairs that were disturbing: it was everything ranging from the disgusting chlorine smell to the blue tiled walls that loved echoing every single sound. Maybe the fact that you needed to wear flip flops in there was the biggest turn off. Who invented that anyway? Although he nearly knew for sure that it was for hygiene reasons, Zayn would do anything to throw the plastic things off and walk around in his socks.

That was a no-go apparently. This school was so weird...

He'd brought two bottles of water with him (one for Liam and one from him) and was playing with their lids, unscrewing and screwing them, continuously.

It was a nervous habit, but he guessed it was better than nail biting or smoking.

Not that you were allowed to smoke in there.

Looking at the cold blue liquid, he decided that this was a horrible idea. It was the worst idea. It was like that one time Harry convinced him to finish his pizza by himself. He ended up regretting it the rest of the evening and made himself do more boxing exercises at night to make up for it.

Conclusion: always go for your instinct and don't trust anybody.

When a ray of sunshine hit the big windows, the entire room was bathing in a golden light. It was so distracting that it almost put him in a better mood. Almost.

When the light hit the water surface, it diverged into some sort of mosaic confetti that kept dancing on the ceiling.

It was barely 10 am, but everyone in the stadium looked awake and excited for the competition. And even Zayn had to admit that he wasn't feeling sleepy at all – the three cups of coffee could have had something to do with that – but it was more like he was too anxious to even notice how much he craved his bed right now. Rethinking the situation, he realized he should have gone with his instinct: sitting there didn't feel right, especially now that the game was about to begin and Liam could come out of the dressing rooms any minute now, along with the candidates form the opposite team.

Was this what actual fear felt like?

Zayn could only guess so, not having felt this way before. But this feeling?

It was eating him alive, that's what it was! It wasn't that he was sweating incessantly or that his hands were shaking, but he did know he must be looking visibly upset, and on the inside, it was even worse.

If he'd seen a person in the crowd, sitting there like he was – on the second row of a nearly empty stadium, (if you could even call it that) fidgeting at water bottles and biting his lip – he would have thought that person was a complete wanker.

His phone told him it was three minutes before the game was supposed to start.

This was going to go so incredibly wrong... He could feel it.

Liam would swim to win, he knew that since Liam was a very competitive person when it came down to sports, always wanting to be the fastest, the most graceful, the best. On the other side of the spectrum stood Zayn. He couldn't care less about swimming or ranking first. Needless to say he wasn't nervous about Liam winning the competition or not. He didn't even want Liam to win other than for the fact that it would make the boy happy. The only thing occupying his mind right now was Liam. Because how in bloody hell can he decide to do such a thing? Did he lose his mind?