Lover Dearest (Ziam Vampire AU)

Chapter 19

"Uh-oh," Liam says.

"Uh-oh," Zayn repeats. "Uh-oh? That's what you have to say for yourselves?"

Louis actually cowers behind Liam, using him as a human shield as Zayn stomps towards them. Everything's still so spinny, but Zayn's clear, the only thing Liam can focus on. He's wearing a blood-red shirt with black buttons that are done up right to his throat. His hair falls across his forehead, almost the same colour as his eyes at the moment. He's moving so slowly, so stiffly, practically vibrating with anger.

And he's so beautiful Liam almost wants to cry.

He come right up to Liam, gripping both sides of his face. Liam can feel the anger in the tips of his fingers, can feel it radiating from Zayn like a physical thing as he leans in, and then he's — Zayn's lips are on Liam's, hard and demanding. A soft, rough sound splays across Liam's mouth when Zayn pulls back just a fraction before going in again, harder, like he's trying to bruise the shape of his mouth into Liam's lips.

Liam can't think, but his body reacts automatically, hands reaching up to twine in Zayn's hair, pulling him in closer. He parts his lips, tongue searching for Zayn's, pushing against the seam of his mouth until it opens, granting Liam access that he so desperately needs.

There's something sweet on Zayn's tongue, like sugar and blood, sweet and dangerous at the same time. And it's gone before Liam can get his fill, Zayn pulling back, breaking the connection of their lips with a wet sound.

"Don't ever do that again," Zayn says lowly, forehead resting against Liam's. "Ever. Do you understand me? Don't ever do that to me again. I was — I was terrified. I woke up and you were gone. Do you even realize what that did to me?"

Liam blinks confusedly. He can't focus still, but that has equal parts to do with the alcohol and Zayn's lips, slick with spit and still so close to his own. He barely hears the words, doesn't try to figure out the meaning in his head, but he knows he's supposed to say something here, so he says, "Sorry," hoping that's what Zayn wanted to hear.

"You better be," Zayn growls. "And Louis, you get back here right fucking now. Don't think I don't see you sneaking off."

Liam turns to see Louis heading for the door. He pauses at Zayn's words, grimacing heavily as he turns. "Did you need me for something?" he asks. "You two look fine as you are."

"He's drunk," Zayn spits. "Do you think I don't notice that?"

"I'm not drunk," Liam says quickly. "We didn't go to a concert or a club, promise. And Louis didn't get me— didn't get me drunk, I swear. Cross my heart and hope to—"

"Don't say that," Zayn snaps. "Fuck."

"Sorry," Liam mumbles again. "Sorry."

"In my defence," Louis says loudly, "he's completely fine. A little intoxicated, yes. He'll probably have a horrible hangover tomorrow to show for it, but he's not hurt in any way. He's completely fine. No damage done."

Zayn flits across the room in the blink of an eye, and the next thing Liam knows, he's got Louis against the wall, dangling inches from the ground, suspended by the hand wrapped tightly around his throat. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Not— really," Louis gasps. "I think you're — psychotic."

Liam quickly heads over to them, nearly tripping over his own feet. He grabs Zayn's arm, a little worried for Louis right now because his face is going red and he's gulping for breath and Zayn's not letting up at all.

"Zayn," Liam tries. "Let him go."

"I'd rather kill him," Zayn says conversationally, like he's talking about the weather, not murdering his best friend. So Liam collapses against him, making a wounded sound, and Zayn releases Louis instantly to catch him, concern replacing the livid look in his eyes. "Liam? Liam, what–?"

Liam grins as Louis slips out the kitchen door. "Faked it," he says, but he's still leaning heavily on Zayn just because. "I'm fine. You're too easy."

Zayn carefully places Liam on his feet, upright, and holds him at arms length. "I know you're drunk right now," he says, "but this situation isn't funny, Liam."

Liam is too drunk to stop himself from groaning. "I don't know why you're so mad," he says, slurring a little less, carefully pronouncing the words as best as he can. "What's the big deal? Why can't I leave? Do you really not trust me at all?"

"I do trust you," Zayn says automatically.

"Right." Liam rolls his eyes. "Obviously you don't."

Zayn sighs and grabs Liam's hands, holding them in his own, cupping them so they make a bowl-shape. "If you could take your entire world," he says, "everything that matters the most to you, and ball all that up to fit in the palms of your hands, would you ever let someone else hold it? Would you ever trust someone else to keep it for even a second, and return it to you exactly the way it was before, unharmed, undamaged, exactly the way it was?"

You, Liam thinks. I'd trust you with it. But that's not what Zayn wants to hear and he knows it. "I guess not," he says.

"Exactly," Zayn says. "That's exactly why you're not allowed to leave, okay?" He pushes back Liam's hair, gently soothing his hands down the sides of Liam's face, cupping it carefully. "I honestly don't know what I'd do if— if, like, if anything happened to you, Liam. I really don't."

"Okay." Liam doesn't get it, but he's too tired to try to. "Zayn?"

"Yeah, babe?"

Liam leans over and heaves up everything he's eaten in the last twenty-four hours.

*