Unrequited Feelings (Ziam Mayne/Larry Stylinson)

Hi :)

This is my first completely English written fanfic, and I really hope it isn't as bad as I suppose it is. I'm from Germany, and I'm sure there are some grammar or spelling mistakes. Please just ignore it, I promis I'll get better!

So, I hope you like it, please vote and write some comments :)

Chapter 1

I woke up groaning, a pillow on my face. The alarm clock on my bedside table rang with an ear-splitting volume and allowed no other thoughts than: Where is that damn sleep button?! Finally, when I found the red button on the top of my old, black alarm clock, I fell back into my bed, loudly groaning. Today was the first day back at school. And you have to know, I always hated the first day. Actually, I hated school in general, which wasn’t a big surprise: I had only a few friends, strictly speaking four: Harry, Louis, Niall and his girlfriend May. The rest of my school probably hated me. Why? That wasn’t difficult to explain: I was gay. Always had been and always had earned a lot of hate for it. Long I hadn’t understood why they all hated me; eventually I learned to live with it.

“Ignore them”, once Louis had said to me. That was last year, when Zayn Malik, the most popular student at my school and also the best looking one, called me a disgusting wimp. He hated me from the first day we had met, and so, I hadn’t been very surprised when he had said that. Nevertheless it had hurt.

And today, I was going to stand his teasing for another agonizing school day. But hey, I was still alive, so I would hold it out.

Only one year, then I’ll never see him again., I thought, smiling softly. This was my last year at school, a time which would also pass by.

“Liam! Are you awake?” I heard my mother’s voice from downstairs. Probably she had done breakfast and wanted me to try it - what I really didn't want to do, because she wasn't the best cook. If I had to be honest: She couldn’t even make toast with jam or butter. Mostly I had to order a pizza or food from the Chinese next street for dinner.

Even though I was damn tired I shouted a loud: “Give me fife minutes to get dressed!” downstairs and got up. The red numbers on my alarm clock showed me it was 7AM; I had no time to dawdle.

I quickly got dressed and ran down the stairs. Mom waited in the kitchen, looking a bit impatient. Her hair was strictly tied back in a bun and she was already wearing her black work clothes. Mom owned a big law firm in West Bromwich and she usually wasn’t at home when I got up. Today she would go to work later, as if she was a good mother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mum a lot, but saying she was a good mother would be completely wrong. And, one thing you should know about me, usually I didn’t lie.

“Hey, Mum.” I grinned as I saw the black pancakes which laid on a plate in my mum’s hand. “Did you try to cook breakfast for me?”

“Darling, just eat.”, she answered and gave me my delicious-looking breakfast.

“Do I have to eat it?” I asked when she took her keys, ready to leave our flat.

“Yes, you are.” was her short answer. Then she gave me a kiss on the forehead and ruffled my hair, her eyes shining happily. A few seconds later I heard the front door close and mum’s heels clattering loudly in the stairwell. I waited until I saw her driving away, then I stood up and threw the burnt pancakes in the trash. With a loud sigh I realized the short message tone of my mobile. There passed some seconds until I found my mobile between many papers my mum had laid on the coffee table. She wouldn’t be very happy about the mess I had done, but I didn’t have enough time to tidy it up.