Summary:
"Liam."
The next morning, Liam found himself in Zayn's room when he woke up. The blanket was tangled around his warm, and completely bare body. He dragged the blanket with him when he turned over, and Zayn wasn't in the spot beside him where he was when he'd fallen asleep. Sitting up, he looked around the empty room and could feel the wind coming through the cracks of the window. Shuffling to his feet and reaching down to pull up a shirt and shrugged it on, he opened the door walking down the hall and down the stairs.
The hall was quiet, but a hushed sound dancing back and forth in his ears as he peeked around the door way of the living room, then the kitchen. Zayn was standing with his back to the door, scrapping the last remains of eggs onto a plate and placed it down along with the spatula. He was humming. He turned, glancing to Liam in the door way and put down the plate on the island top. Instead of going for the plate, Liam rounded the island top and pulled Zayn into his arms pressing his forehead against his. He closed his eyes, as he expanded forward and latched on to warm lips.
It was slow, and warm. A kiss that cried innocence, and love, security and softness.
A gentle push separated them, and Liam's hand rested on the beat of Zayn's chest. The silence stirred when Zayn dipped his head down, and Liam kissed his forehead. "Good morning." He mumbled, never wanting to leave Zayn's space.
"It's afternoon."
Liam gawked, "Afternoon?" He smiled, "You let me sleep late?"
"I didn't let you sleep late, you decided not to get up early." Zayn quipped as he turned to the island and wiped it down.
Hickey's and bite marks graced Zayn's neck, reminders that the night before was nothing but smoke and mirrors.
"And you're not wearing pants."
Liam snickered, leaning on Zayn's back and mumbling into the top knob of his spine. "I see no problem in that."
"I don't want your end sitting on my chairs."
"You like this end." He joked, pressing kisses into his neck and shoulder. "I'll get pants." He finally said, his hands following along Zayn's arm, his fingertips felt cold when they danced off Zayn's hand and he was free floating through the hall ways and back up the stairs.
Zayn stood immobile by the island top, wondering when he'd be able to cutting off his own emotions. This person - Liam was not his. He was his family's, he didn't belong there in Zayn's home. For all he knew, his family was searching for him, grieving for him to come back home. This wasn't his home, yet he was better off there. Liam was up the stairs and into the room again, looking around for his sweatpants. He took showers there, and yet his clothes were in need of washing. Niall gave him at least four pairs of his sweatpants, and three of his shirts - now that he'd never see Niall again, they were kindly his. He thought to himself if Zayn would mind him borrowing a pair of his pants, taking the chance with a sudden burst of confidence and courage, he opened the top drawer of dresser and looked in for pants.
He didn't find pants but he was staring at under shirts and some stashed items in the corner of the drawer. Reaching in he pulled out a small box, seemed to be a jewelry box and when he opened it - it was the opposite. Small revolver bullets stood in them, a small necklace chain, and a folded picture. He glanced to the door then to the box again, he shouldn't be snooping. He really shouldn't. He opened it anyways, his mind pushing aside his conscious and he was staring back at a small family of three. They were sitting in front of a lake, the sun setting just to the right of them the way the sun was coming into the shot. The blurry sun cut off half the woman's face standing beside him, and Liam would only think it's his mom or some woman close to him. The little girl in front of him was caught in the small, hazing light but a smile was showing just below her sun covered eyes. The only thing clear to the left of the photo - was him.

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In The Nick Of Time
AdventureThis story is not mine. It belongs to TheOutCastAyh on ao3. i am just reposting it on wattpad. Blood is cascaded his finger. It isn't his blood. Sirens wail behind his car in the distance as he looks over his shoulder, he needs to get out of there...