Roses | ziam.

Handle With Care

There had been something gravely wrong with Zayn as of late.

Liam Payne surveyed his lover of eighteen months over the rims of the newspaper with intense brown eyes that narrowed when Zayn accidentally knocked over a half-empty cup of tea. The raven-haired lad cursed sharply under his breath and began to blot the mess up with a handful of paper towels. Zayn caught Liam staring, and the brunette quickly snapped his attention back to the paper, but the cogs of his mind were preoccupied with anything but today's news.

It had started out as nothing much at first; Zayn knocking off from work one to two hours later for the past three months. When the brunette asked Zayn about it, the other lad said that they were having a busy season.

Zayn had been stammering like a fool when he said that, and even an idiot would know that he had been lying.

That was when the first warning flag came up.

So a stubborn Liam had left his office for a while and stealthily parked himself outside the Ministry building. Niall ended work right on the dot at five thirty pm, but Zayn was nowhere to be seen. Liam continued with his sleuthing for the whole week, and the outcome had been the same for every evening. With his heart sinking silently like a boulder, Liam had refused to let himself get upset and filed the information away in his mind neatly, choosing not to mention the issue to Zayn until it was absolutely necessary.

Then came the phone call.

Zayn had been hunched furtively over his table at home when Liam had just stepped in. Zayn's bank-books were sprawled on the table, and Liam had hovered in the background, wondering who was on the other line. Zayn had suddenly let out a laugh and nodded, murmuring that it was an extremely important present for 'his special someone'. So a privately thrilled Liam had waited eagerly for some sort of lavish goodie from Zayn. He had even gone so far as to stand in front of the mirror practicing the astonished expression that he would craft when Zayn presented the gift to him.

Needless to say, there was no present that Zayn joyously whisked out of thin air.

It was the little things that added up, things such as the rebuking looks that Barbara tossed at Zayn when they were at their place for dinner. She would widen her eyes meaningfully at Liam and frown impatiently at Zayn, leaving a very confused Liam in the wake of her cryptic actions. Even Niall seemed to be on tenterhooks when he was in close proximity with Liam; the brunette could see that the blond was holding something back. There were newspaper clippings that Zayn failed to successfully hide around his house; about houses and loans and whatnot. Liam suspected that Zayn was planning to move house, and had been slightly hurt that the raven-haired lad didn't bother to consult him.

And then there was this… fixation with Liam's fingers. Zayn would take every opportunity to squeeze, stare and stroke Liam's fingers, which the brunette thought was highly irregular. Perhaps Zayn didn't find his fingers sexy anymore? Liam sighed sadly, placed the paper down on his lap, spread his fingers apart and lifted them up to the light. Nothing had changed; his nails were still clipped short and maintained in its impeccable state of cleanliness.

Hang on, Liam thought with escalating alarm oh God, are my fingers shrinking? Is Zayn not interested in me anymore because of my shriveled up fingers?- as he squinted and brought his face closer to his hands. Liam ransacked his brain to find for any correlation between the length of his fingers and their relationship. Immediately, Liam squeaked maybe it affects the quality of my… handjobs?- and clamped a hand over his mouth. The brunette scowled darkly and ruthlessly banished his paranoia. There was no way that Zayn would break up with him over sexual matters like that. But apprehension, a debilitating ache that haunted Liam for answers, still remained.