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Since the Payne product release party, Liam has been so excited to see me at every opportunity.
Whenever he comes to the flower shop after school and sees me behind the counter, his eyes sparkle, and he gets more animated than I have ever seen.
He's so precious.
After Liam finished his speech, he ran up to give me a big hug. He stumbled a bit here and there, but I couldn't be prouder. Even his parents came up to say how proud they were, but it didn't seem to make Liam as happy as when I said it.
He is opening up a little bit more day by day. He has elaborated on how nervous he gets when there are too many people or attention on a lazy day at the flower shop. I hate that he has to live that way, but from now on, I'll be there to help in any way I can.
Now that Liam's finally comfortable with me, he's getting much more touchy. And not that I'm complaining, it's just hard not to ...misunderstand.
I'm sure he only thinks of me as a friend, but it is hard to control myself when he presses himself against my side at the flower shop; when his radiant smile lights up my whole life; when he shyly tucks a stray hair behind his ear; when he adorably scrunches his nose in protest; when-
Friend, Zayn. You'rejust a friend.
I know he hasn't had a lot of friends in his life, so I'm going to make sure I don't mess it up. If he wants a hug, a high-five, or even just to hold my arm, it's all to help him feel safe and cared for. I can't get any ideas.
My alarm buzzes and I quickly shut it off. Gotta love waking up five minutes before my alarm rings.
I shower, get dressed, and do all the necessary things to ensure I'm ready for school.
I walk out to the kitchen to find it eerily silent. I can only hear the sound of sizzling bacon on the stove.
No one is in sight, but a stack of Belgian waffles is on the table.
My mom is usually at the flower shop by now, but judging from the heated stove top, it's safe to say she is still here. It must be a special occasion because she doesn't cook a lot.
I check the sizzling bacon on the stove and it's still raw. It was just put on.
My mom must have gone to the bathroom or something, but I don't dwell on it too long, getting distracted by the mouth-watering waffles. I grab a plate from the cabinet and sit at the table, immediately digging into the delicious food in front of me.
As I douse my waffles in syrup, heavy hands slap my shoulders and scare the living crap out of me.
"Boo!" my mom screams in my ear as I yell back at her, holding up my fork to stab the psycho that scared me.
