The Way It Is ! ** Ziam

Part 8

At exactly midnight, there are three quick, sharp knocks on his door. Zayn looks around the room, lip caught between his teeth, then strides towards the door. At the last second he stops to straighten his shirt, until he realizes what he's doing. He untucks it and grabs handfuls of the material and makes a fist with both of his hands so it doesn't look like he'd gone so far as to raid Harry's wardrobe for something to wear, and he'd decided on the freshly pressed button-up. The shirt wrinkles, and it could definitely pass for something that he'd found stuffed at the bottom of his own bag.

Liam smiles at him from the other side of the threshold when he opens the door. He's wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a leather jacket over a low-necked shirt. The hair on his chest is clearly visible, and it shouldn't be as hot as it is, but… well. "Hey," he says. "Ready to go?"

Zayn shakes his head and clears his throat. "I kind of don't feel well, actually."

Concern flickers in Liam's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing major," Zayn assures him. He hates lying to Liam. "Just a headache. My stomach, too, a bit. I don't think I can go out tonight."

"Oh." Liam's face falls. "Okay, that's fine, I—"

"Stay with me instead?" Zayn suggests. "We could watch a movie, get some room service." Liam looks unsure, so Zayn makes a pitiful sound and adds, "I'd rather not be alone."

Liam nods slowly. "Okay, just let me change. I'll be right back."

"I'll leave the door unlocked."

When he's gone, Zayn flits through the small hotel room, straightening the blankets, throwing the four outfits he'd tried on earlier back into his bags. He sets up his computer, too, so they can watch something. And then he waits.

Obviously Liam's partying isn't as much of a problem as Louis makes it out to be. If it were, he would have put up more of a fight, right? He would have found some excuse not to hang out in Zayn's room just watching a movie. Instead, it had only taken a little bit of persuading to get him to agree.

Twenty minutes later, he pulls his phone out and turns it impatiently in his hands for a while before he gives in and sends a text to Liam, asking him what's taking so long.

Something came up. Be only ten more mins promise x — LP

Ten minutes pass in no time, though it seems to drag on for Zayn, who spends the whole time on the tiny little balcony, his second cigarette since Liam left dangling from his fingers. He takes a deep drag as his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Come out with us? — Tommo

Can't, Zayn sends back, hanging out with Liam.

The next three texts he gets in succession, one immediately after the other. The same Liam that left the building in a car fifteen minutes ago? and if you don't want to come just say so. and finally, you didn't have to lie about it.

I wasn't the one who lied, Zayn thinks. He doesn't actually answer. He shuts his phone off instead and paces the room for a bit, trying to clear his head. It doesn't work. Liam left. He said he was changing and coming back, but instead he left. To do what?

He should have expected this, Zayn realizes. Liam obviously didn't want to stay in, and why would Zayn pretending to be sick keep him from doing what he wants? Maybe the old Liam would have stayed in, but things are different.

Anger weighs out over the worry, and he finds his hands balling into fists as he continues wearing down a trail in the carpet as he goes over the whole night. Liam had been excited to go out with him. Not just in general, but he'd seemed genuinely pleased that Zayn was going out with him tonight. And when Zayn bailed, he seemed a little upset. But couldn't he at least have owned up to the fact that he was going out? Why would he tell Zayn he was coming back?