Infectious (Ziall)

Inquest.

Liam's Home.

[Where answers lie to mend broken hearts].

Being in Liam's home almost felt equivalent to suffocating; to being so close, yet still too far. Several, distinctive emotions collided with Niall simultaneously, knocking him off balance, and then leaving him trapped within this vulnerable place in his mind. He almost remained still, still standing by the door, because he wasn't quite sure what his first course of action would be. A part of him wanted to play the aggressor, wanted to confront Liam in a manner that wouldn't end too well for either of them, whether that be physically or mentally. A part of him wanted to turn right back around and leave, not wanting to give his husband's alleged-lover the satisfaction of seeing him in such a defeated state; however, Niall had reached a point of desperation. He wanted the nagging in the back of his mind to stop. He wanted a sense of closure or peace, even if it wouldn't exactly change things between him and Zayn, and he knew the only way he would receive those things was if he tackled the problem head-on. He was scared, not exactly sure how to approach Liam or how he should initiate the conversation in a way that wouldn't leave him empty-handed. His eyes scanned the parlor, reeling him in to every detail of the cohesive room; and he couldn't help but wonder if Zayn and Liam had ever made love on that couch, if their clothing items had ever found themselves scattered on the very wooden-floor Niall stood upon, and if they shared moments of happiness and affection that replayed in Liam's mind every time he walked into his home. Niall felt jealous, felt almost erased of every beautiful moment he had ever had with Zayn, and how little it may have meant in comparison. His blue eyes began to cloud with tears, his arms wrapped around himself in a hug-like manner. He was somewhat annoyed with himself for going there and doing exactly what he said he wouldn't do - absolutely nothing.

"I made tea and crumpets, if you want to join me in the kitchen," Liam offered, awkwardly standing at the kitchen's entryway. The brunette took note of the way Niall looked broken and fragile, not really sure what to make of it. Unlike he and Zayn, he and Niall had never built a one-on-one friendship, so he wasn't sure how to evoke enough compassion to make matters better. Niall nodded, wiping his eyes free of tears as he trailed behind Liam and into the warm kitchen.

They sat on opposite ends of the islander. Quiet; unsure. Niall couldn't look Liam in the eye without feeling a sense of bitterness, while Liam's eyes remained on Niall because he was worried and puzzled. Truth be told, he knew about their marital problems because Zayn had a habit of whining about it whenever he was drunk; however, if what he assumed was the reason for Niall being there, he found himself being lured into wanting to hear Niall's side of things. Zayn's side of the story was always blurred, a concoction of slurred-words and emotional breakdowns, Zayn's voice rising a whole, new octave when shouting about how he was a screw-up, but still a good guy all in the same. His best friend hadn't told him exactly why things with Niall went astray, but for Niall to show up at his home, teary-eyed, Liam had an inkling that times between the two had grew cold.

Niall took one, last sip of his tea, and then placed the cup down, slightly pushing it away from him. His crumpet remained untouched, gradually becoming stale the longer they sat there. The blond opened his mouth, and then closed it, struggling to find the right words. "What is it, Niall?" Liam asked, placing his hand on Niall's. The blond didn't react well, instantly drawing his hand away and off the islander, tucked under the table; hands clenching and trembling.