Baby It's Cold Outside ➳ Ziam Christmas One-Shot

Copyright © Sh3sN0tAfriad 2013.
All Rights Reserved.

[Before I start, this is in ZAYN’S POINT OF VIEW, and it will not be reminded again other than here.]

[Merry Christmas, everyone, I love you all, so much. This is going to be pure fluff, pure love and cuteness, no plots, not twists, just a nice, cute, Christmas one shot. Enjoy, xxx]

Baby It’s Cold Outside [Ziam Christmas One-Shot]

The fireplace was turned up to the maximum heat, flames ablaze, but I didn’t seem to notice. Without Liam here to hold me and warm me with the tender touches or skin on skin contact, I only felt numb, like my skin was make of ice that fit perfectly around my bones.

I always felt like this, without Liam, without my other half. I wore his sweater, the knitted wool now worn out and even held some holes in some places in the material, but I didn’t mind, it just made the shirt feel more like home. It was big on me, the sleeves hanging over my hands and the end pooling down my thighs. I wore a black shirt beneath it so I didn’t get too cold, but the old spice and woodsy smell of Liam that could only be described as home was still in the air every time I inhaled.

The television was on, but I could barely even tell, it was just a mild buzz in the back of my mind. Some reality television show played on the screen, a girl with an obviously spray tanned, orange face shouting very close to the camera, so you could see her true ugly, up so close. I wrinkled my nose and reached for the remote control, flicking the television off when I grasped it in my palm.

My hands helplessly did a routine of rubbing against one and another that they always did when I was trying to stop myself from thinking about something or doing something. I eyed the phone that sat in its holster on the dark, oak wood table beside me.

I desperately resisted the urge to pick up the phone, but my fingers eagerly walked their way across the sofa, betraying me. With a mindless glance thrown towards the silent television, as if to delay pitiful time, I gave in and sat up slightly so I could reach over the armrest the grab the phone.

I slid back down in my seat once I’d held it in my clutches, the cold plastic pressed close to my chest as I held it there, as if it were a new born baby that I cradling. I resisted the urge to crack a smile at my own stupid actions and lifted the phone up, my eyes searching the device as if it would stop me from calling, because I knew exactly how our conversation would go down.

My fingers—as if working to their own accords—instantly pressed at the smaller buttons and I dialled Liam’s number quickly, from memory. I lifted the phone to my ear and bit my lip as I silently stared at the dead television. The dialling tone repeated itself in my ear.

“Come on, pick up, pick up…” I muttered to myself as I looked down at my free hand, gently toying with the edge of Liam’s old, frayed jumper. I rolled the material between my ring finger and thumb, by a force of habit.

“Hey, babe?” Liam’s musical, soothing voice called through the phone line, and I dropped the dull sweater instantly, sitting up as if he were here and letting my mood perk up quickly. A small smile crept onto my lips as I started to speak.

“Hi, Liam,” I murmured softly, and he hummed in content.

“How are you? You okay? Why’d you ring?” He asked all at once, his voice still soft and calm, yet concerned at the same time.

I laughed softly, “Don’t be so worried, Li,” I told him softly, “I’m fine… Just lonely.”

I could almost feel his smirk on the other line, “Oh?” He cooed, “Now, what are we going to do about that, hm, Zayn?”