FLO: I Am Not My Father's Son [Zarry Stylik AU]©️

10

Jaimie’s eyes shot up as he woke up from a nightmare. He was still running from the Grants and their minions in his dreamland, ready to tear him down again.

The young boy sat up against the bed, with his back on the headboard, trying to calm himself. Monty jumped on the bed, coming up to his face, ready to lick him back to normalcy. Jaimie welcomed the kisses from the dog, ruffling his fur.

“I’m okay,” Jaimie responded, pushing the dog down. “I’m awake and okay.”

Monty retrieved giving him enough space, sitting back and looking at him with his tongue out. Despite the final nightmare, he had slept well; with a full stomach, a mended relationship with his father and feeling a little calmer.

The sun shining outside proved to be a good omen for what was to come. The teenager noticed that the house was eerily quiet. Normally, he’d wake up to Harry’s singing or Zayn talking on the phone, perhaps even the TV playing in the background. But, not today. Everything was dead quiet. 

Tossing the sheets aside, he got out of bed with Monty ahead of him leading the way. Jaimie stood in the hallway. Turning right, he could see the couple's room from where he stood - the bed was made and the room was vacant. Jaimie came downstairs, where Ruby barked at him and Jaimie padded her on the side. 

“Morning,” He greeted Ruby.

Monty barked at him, then ran towards the garden door; wanting to go outside. Jaimie walked to the backdoor, pushing it open and the two dogs bolted outside. Their garden was big enough that the dogs could run around free without a care in the world.

Jaimie remembered memories of a childhood long gone: of summer lunches with friends, swimming in the gigantic rubber pool or playing football with his uncles. He wanted those moments back desperately. Everything was so gloomy now. He wanted that joy. When would that return?

Looking at the kitchen, he noticed that the breakfast table was set for him. He had coffee, cereal, milk, bread and all the good things he would need. The clock marked 09h30am - Jaimie had lost the first class in the morning, and probably would lose the second one. But, he was glad he didn’t have to go to school - he was certain that the Grant Minions had already shared how they had jumped him and knocked him out. Jaimie was sure he was the talk of the school and being under that type of attention frightened him. 

He noticed a note under the plate and recognized Harry’s handwriting:

Glad you’re home. You know where things are.

We missed you.

H & Z

Jaimie kissed the piece of paper. He was glad to be home. Here he felt at ease, calm, where he belonged with the person he shared the most. Liam’s house was a welcoming place too - after all, Jaimie had everything there: his books, sketches, clothes and everything that was his. He had a space there. A world there. But here…Here he was at peace. At Zayn’s he wouldn’t look at the clock, he didn’t hate the silence, he didn’t feel like crying. 

He was okay. 

It wasn’t even a matter of loving Zayn more than Liam - even though he could be biased on that. It was merely the fact that he felt good at Zayn’s house. At Liam’s he was always stressed, longing, and sad. 

The front door opened, showing Zayn coming in from the street. The artist wore his long coat and a scarf. 

“God! It’s cold as balls outside.” He mumbled. The dogs barked, coming back inside and gathering at his feet. “Sit.” The two dogs sat down obediently, as Zayn walked past them to the kitchen with two bags full of items. “Hey, Pirate! Morning.”