Forbidden Desires {Ziall AU}

Chapter 19: I'm too far gone to pray

chapter title from Only The Brave by Louis Tomlinson

Welcome back everyone!

If you've come here to see the continuation of the Niall and Zayn drama, sorry but you're out of luck. This chapter kind of takes a little break from the rest of the story, while still being connected. So here's your little step away from the drama, and enjoy!

I pull up to the abandoned house that's further away from school than I would like to admit. I walk up the cracked stone pathway that looks distinctly like it hasn't been updated since the 1950's. The door opens before I have a chance to knock, and my mother standing on the other side almost makes me cry.

Who am I kidding, I do cry. I bawl my fucking eyes out. Wouldn't you do the same if you saw your mum for the first time since you were in middle school? She pulls me in for a hug, and it's one of those maternal hugs that could never be replaced by another soul. She pulls back, her eyes raking over my face. She takes me in, and her fond smile spreads, lighting her up. "God," she says wetly, clearing her throat. "you've grown up so much."

My face heats up, and I duck my head down. She leads me into the lounge room of the surprisingly clean house, pouring a cup of tea from the pot on the table.

I look over at her, she's still as beautiful as I remember. The small crow's feet are tugging at the edges of her eyes, and tiny grey hairs are peaking through the roots of her midnight black hair. But despite this, she's still the mother I know. The mother I love.

But I can't help the incessant guilt gnawing away at me from the inside. "I'm sorry," I blurt, blinking away the tears before they have a chance to fall. "I said some terrible things..."

She rests her hand on my knee, rubbing comforting circles into the skin there. "It's ok, you were angry, I understand."

I huff, "That doesn't make it right,"

She nods, "It doesn't, but you know that it wasn't right, and that's one of the most important things."

I smile, looking over at her once again. "How are you feeling?" I ask, gesturing to her swollen belly.

She lights up in an instant, a fond smile spreading across her face as she looks down. "Good, it's been good. I'm emotional as hell, but that's to be expected."

I love seeing her like this, so happy and full of life. As much as I hated to see her go, I understand why she had to. She was being robbed of her life, and she wasn't happy, it was obvious. She held on as long as she could for us, but even when I was a kid I knew something was very, very wrong.

That didn't make the news any easier to bear.

She clears her throat, looking back at me. "So, I presume that you have a bigger reason for wanting to meet than apologising?"

I sigh, running a hand over my face and through my hair. "He asked me about you." I explain, I don't need to specify who 'he' is. She nods along, but I see the tension creeping into her frame. "I just wanted to warn you I guess,"

"Thank you, love." She smiles, she's studying me closely, and I have the distinct feeling of being under a microscope. "But there's something else, isn't there?"

How does she always know? No matter how many times I try to keep my cards close to my chest, she always has a way of sneaking a look over my shoulder. "I just uh..." I fiddle with my fingers, tracing the outlines of the dark tattoos littering my body. "I don't know if I want to do this anymore?" I furrow my brows, trying to keep my thoughts trained on speaking, and not a certain someone. "I think I want to leave the gang." Voicing the words out loud seem to make them all the more real. But the tonne of bricks being lifted off my shoulder makes me feel freer than I have all my life.

"What's her name?" she asks, giving me a knowing smile.

I blink at her, while she patiently waits for my answer. Fuck it. "I, uh-his name?"

For a moment she looks utterly confused, until the eventual realisation falls over her features. She manages to correct herself without acknowledging how I came out to her. "What's he like?"

I think back to all the nights we were alone, the ones I saw his laughter, smiles and pouts. The pout is my favourite, don't tell him. Now, all those quiet moments feel like a fever dream. It's getting hard to distinguish what happened from everything I've imagined in my head. It was nice to be able to forget everything for a few moments, to live in a world where no one else exists. It was a safe place. Somewhere I didn't have to fear being judged or scolded. Somewhere I could be free, be me. Now I've taken the sledgehammer to my state of mind, to my sanctuary. After months of construction, the palace is crumbling down. "He's so-"

I'm interrupted by the ping of my phone, and my mother gestures for me to check it. The message makes my heart drop.

Liam: Your dad's looking for you, I've tried to stall him as long as possible, you need to come back

When I look up at my mother her face tells me she already knows I have to go. She stands up and wraps me in her arms again, squeezing me even tighter than at the door. "I'll come back, I promise." I whisper into her neck.

She nods, but I can feel her tears soaking into the shoulder of my shirt. When I pull away her eyes are shining, yet a smile is etched into her face. When I make my way to my car she stands by the door, waving to me when I pull out of the driveway, like I was merely going to work to return this evening.

But I won't be coming back.