war | ziall boyxboy

13

Sunday 20th March

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It was like a fuse was lit the day Niall left for the battlefield, at one point or another, one of them would break. Falling apart until the only thing left to save them would be each other, and Zayn always thought the fuse blew when Niall returned. But nothing prepared him for the pain in his heart when his husband returned home, absolutely drunk and tripping over his own feet as he tried to manoeuvre through the house. The sinking in his stomach at the sight, back to square one, he assumed; guiding his beau to the spare room and removing the man's shoes with a wet smile.

"Za-ayn," Niall slurred out, catching the attention of the damp eyed man at the end of the bed, "I need my medi- medi- medicshon," he managed to get out, completely messing up his pronunciations as he lazily pointed to the door.

"What?" Zayn was confused, medication? As far as he knew, Niall was on nothing of the sort and had not seen anyone for any.

"Ye-eh. Some calming thing," The blond hiccupped out, grinning with a thumbs up when Zayn stood from the ground.

"Oh, alright," He muttered leaving the room quickly. His sock clad feet making soft tumps against the carpet that had a few blood stands from Niall's hospital episode, perhaps they gave him the meds. The bathroom door seemed almost daunting to open, the tanned lad wincing as it gave out a slight creek. Almost immediately he noticed the small cardboard box on top of the cabinet, the distinctive sticker from a prescription stuck across the side. Zayn's thoughts had always been far-fetched, he had often wished as a child that he could befriend the wind, he loved it so. He enjoyed the way it would flow through his shaggy hair and whiz past his fingertips as he stood still, having no friends until he was eleven, Zayn used the wind as a source of company- his parents worried, but saw how happy standing in the strongest whirls made their son, let him be. And now, his thoughts had reached the place in his mind that contained many mythical things.

Would it be less painful if we were mermaids? Lounging on the rocks under the beaming sun with our dashing, scaley tails hanging off the edge and dipping into the ocean. No worries, not wars, no alcohol.

He grabbed the packet from the shelf and made his way back to where his terribly intoxicated husband was waiting, the name of the medication, Zayn could not pronounce but he assumed it had something to do with anxiety or depression as PTSD (The disorder Niall's doctor had diagnosed the lad with a mild case of) cannot be cured with medication. His mind was still whirling, his thoughts barely making sense and his patience running short.

"thank you-o," Niall hiccupped, taking the pill from Zayn's outstretched palm and swallowing it dry. Barely waiting for the blond to finishing taking his meds, Zayn fled the room, retreating to the living room for some well needed peace. His smooth black hair felt soothing through his fingertip as he hung his head in his hands, sighing heavily with tear rimmed eyes.

The tanned lad stayed still, the only sound being of the slight ruffle of sheets from upstairs and his short, huffy breaths as he thought thoroughly. His mind whipped him back to a simpler time, when it was just him and Niall, the pair creating their own bubble of love and not thinking of popping it any time in the future. His thoughts landed on what was possibly the hardest thing he had to do with Niall back then;

Short flicks of blond hair blew around messily in the wind, the slight chill sending the boy's cheeks pink and the tip of his nose a kind cherry colour. His pale hand enclosed in the warmth of his partner's as they walked idly thorugh the thin streets, their maroon school blazers making them stick out like sore thumbs in the crowds, adults sending them curious looks as they passed during the early evening.

"Niall," Zayn started, he had news and it wasn't the good kind, "Bug," He murmured, tugging the shorted boy to a secluded bench behind a small linde of shrubs.

"Yeah?" The Irish boy hummed, smiling up at his boyfriend, they had been together for almost a year, "Something wrong?" He frowned slightly, thin eyebrows furrowing,

"I- uh, yeah," Zayn got out, clearing his throat before continuing. Wrappin an arm round Niall as he spoke, pulling him closer, "My mum has lung cancer, Niall, and she hasn't got uch time left," He stated, his words blunt and painful.

"What?" Niall breathed, his breathy word comingout with a small cloud of condensation, "Oh, God, Zayn," He murmured, nudging his nose to the talled lad's smooth cheek, kissing it lightly and stroking his knee with one hand. "How much longer?"

"Two months, they rekon,"

She only lasted another week.

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An: So if you uys follow me you will know that this story is my main focus at the moment, i want to complete this before doing anything else.

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