Talk To Me - Ziam

Chapter 5

The night had started like all the others. Liam came over after midnight, slipping quietly into Zayn's room, careful not to wake the others. They'd fallen into an easy rhythm over the weeks, one that had lulled Zayn into a sense of comfort he hadn't felt with anyone else. He didn't question it. He simply let himself enjoy the warmth of Liam beside him, the sound of his steady breathing, the quiet way Liam would reach out and lace their fingers together once they lay there in the dark.

Tonight, though, something felt different. Liam was quiet, his usual smile absent, his eyes holding a kind of intensity that Zayn couldn't ignore.

They lay there, side by side, the silence stretching between them until it felt almost unbearable. Finally, Liam turned to him, his voice low and hesitant.

"Zayn... I don't think I can keep doing this."

Zayn's heart stumbled. He kept his voice steady, though the unease was already starting to coil in his stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... this," Liam gestured between them, searching for the right words. "I want more than just sneaking around at night and pretending we're only friends in front of everyone else."

The words landed heavily, and Zayn felt himself freeze, his mind racing. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. He knew there was a connection between them, something deeper than just physical attraction, but he'd buried it, told himself that whatever was growing inside him was temporary, that it didn't need to mean anything. But hearing it spoken out loud? That changed everything.

"I don't know if I can do that, Liam," he replied, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "I thought we were on the same page with this... I thought we were just having fun."

Liam's face softened, a mixture of sadness and understanding flickering in his eyes. "I thought so too," he admitted. "But then, I started thinking about you outside of this room, outside of these nights, and it felt like more. I can't just turn that off."

Zayn's pulse quickened, panic seeping in. He didn't do relationships. He'd seen what they could do to people, the way they could unravel you, make you vulnerable. The idea of being that open with someone terrified him. He glanced away, his jaw tightening.

"This is... this is complicated," Zayn muttered, his voice trailing off.

"Only if you make it that way," Liam replied gently. "I like you, Zayn. And I thought—well, I hoped that maybe you felt something too."

There it was. The truth he'd been avoiding, the thing he hadn't wanted to face. He did feel something, something he couldn't name, something that had been creeping up on him despite his best efforts to keep it at bay. But admitting it meant stepping into unfamiliar territory, opening himself up in ways he wasn't sure he could handle.

He sat up, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't know if I can do this, Liam. I don't even know if I want to."

Liam's face fell, but he nodded, the resignation in his eyes evident. "Okay. I get it."

Zayn felt a pang of guilt, but he forced himself to ignore it. This was what he'd always wanted—no strings, no expectations. He convinced himself that he was protecting both of them, that it was better this way, easier. But deep down, he knew he was only protecting himself.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. Finally, Liam stood up, his movements slow, reluctant. "I'll see you around, then."

"Liam—" Zayn started, but he didn't know what to say, how to make this right without compromising the walls he'd built around himself.

Liam gave him a sad smile, a brief touch on the shoulder that was gone as quickly as it came. "Take care, Zayn."

As the door clicked shut behind him, Zayn was left alone in the quiet, the hollow ache in his chest growing with each passing second.

The days that followed were a blur of textbooks, exams, and countless cups of coffee. Zayn threw himself into his studies, using the mounting pressure of finals as an excuse to bury the mess of emotions Liam's confession had stirred up. He convinced himself that he was doing the right thing, that he was saving them both from the complications that a relationship would bring.

But no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind kept drifting back to Liam. He'd find himself checking his phone, hoping for a message, a sign that things were okay, that they could go back to how they'd been. But the silence stretched on, and with each day that passed, the distance between them grew.

Liam was around, of course, but he was careful. He kept his distance, only joining in group hangouts when it couldn't be avoided, always polite but detached, as if he'd erected his own walls to keep Zayn out. It hurt more than Zayn wanted to admit. He told himself it was better this way, that he could move on, focus on what mattered, but there was no ignoring the emptiness that seemed to settle deeper with each passing day.

One evening, Zayn found himself alone in his room, staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over Liam's contact. He wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—to bridge the chasm that had formed between them. But each time he tried, his chest tightened with fear, the thought of opening up, of being vulnerable, paralyzing him.

"Zayn, mate, you alright?"

Zayn looked up to see Niall standing in the doorway, concern etched across his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Zayn lied, forcing a smile.

But Niall wasn't convinced. He stepped into the room, taking a seat on the edge of Zayn's bed. "Is this about Liam?"

Zayn's stomach dropped. He'd been careful, he thought, keeping his emotions hidden, but clearly, he wasn't as good at masking as he believed.

"Why would it be about him?" Zayn tried, a weak attempt at deflection.

Niall raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Come on, Zayn. We're your friends. We've all noticed you've been a bit... off lately."

Zayn hesitated, torn between his desire to keep this to himself and the need to finally get it out, to share the weight of what he'd been carrying alone. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I don't know, Niall. He... he told me he had feelings. Real feelings. And I just... freaked out, I guess."

Niall nodded, listening quietly. "So, what did you do?"

"I told him I didn't want it," Zayn admitted, the guilt settling in his chest like a stone. "I just... I couldn't handle it. The idea of being in a relationship, of actually letting someone in like that... it terrifies me."

"Sounds like you like him too," Niall observed gently.

Zayn looked away, his jaw clenching. "Maybe I do. But it doesn't matter. I'm not like him, Niall. I can't just... be open like that. It's not who I am."

Niall reached out, resting a reassuring hand on Zayn's shoulder. "Look, I get that it's scary. But maybe... maybe it's worth it, you know? Letting someone in. Maybe he's the one worth trying for."

Zayn didn't reply, his mind racing, his heart torn between the fear of the unknown and the undeniable pull he felt toward Liam. He wanted to believe Niall, wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could do this. But the thought of letting his guard down, of risking the safety of his solitude, was almost too much to bear.

For now, all he could do was sit with the ache, hoping that one day, he'd find the courage to face it.