war | ziall boyxboy

09

Wednesday 16th March

Niall's eyes fluttered open lazily, his mind going into frenzy at the sight of the unfamiliar patch of ceiling paper in his view. Since when had he and Zayn put something so ugly in their home? He lifted himself from his position on the bed, feeling a heavy head rush as he did so. He groaned quietly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed just as the door slicked open. Zayn walked in, a nurse in tow and a piping mug of hot tea in his hand,

“Zayn?” Niall croaks out, his throat feeling scratchy and dry. Zayn’s hair flopped over his forehead slightly as he whipped round, amber eyes landing on his husband. He shoved the mug into the nurse’s hands, striding over to the bed with a watery smile,

“Hi,” Zayn muttered, “Lie down again, bug,” he took Niall’s thin shoulders in his hands and pushed him back to the bed, careful not to startle the lad in any way as he tucked the cover over his toes. “Don’t get out of bed, at least not today,” Zayn murmured, stroking Niall’s fringe soothingly, Niall’s hazy eyes fixed on his face.

“Where are we?” Niall got out, his hand sliding up to fiddle with the hem of the duvet, the slightly in the way drip injected into it sending a dull ache through his wrist.

“In the hospital, you were coughing, a little bit, and your chest hurt.” Zayn uttered out quietly, hoping Niall would’ve forgotten the past events completely. He glanced back at the nurse, who was watching the couple interact with a smile on her face,

“O-oh,” Niall breathed. His eyes flitted about the room, landing on the nurse and lingering for a long moment, “who’s that?” he whispered,

“That’s Deborah, she’s taking care of you,” Zayn spoke slightly louder this time, holding onto the hand without the drip in it and stroking it rhythmically. Niall nodded warily, his eyes trained on the plump lady as she messed around with the bag full of his drip,

“I advise you go back to sleep, you really worked yourself up,” Deborah said, looking right at Niall, who hummed lightly in reply, tilting his head to stare at Zayn. There was a long silence, Deborah finishing her check-up, signing the clip board attached to the end of Niall’s bed before leaving with a quick goodbye. The nurse admired Zayn’s patience, he had told her during Niall’s sleep of how he had been so different when he returned, how hostile and paranoid he was. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain Zayn must’ve felt when his husband didn’t even bat an eyelid when he was sobbing at his feet. If, heaven forbid, something like that ever happened to her and her husband, she didn’t know how on earth she would cope without breaking down at the mere sight of him. Zayn struggled, he really did, the amount of times he had arrived at work and ranted to louis about how hopeless he feels around his spouse, how belittled he feels by his burning gaze and how difficult it is to get Niall to even sit and eat without slamming the end of his knife into every piece of food on his plate; his eyes taking on a darker shade of blue that Zayn would never be fond of. Luckily, Niall’s drinking habits had slowed down, rarely getting a call from Terry alerting his of a drunk blonde that’s out of control and more from the bartender, Liam, informing Zayn of the bill he needed to pay- Niall was never thinking about the expensive pints he was buying and more about the feeling he was receiving once It had been drained, and Zayn didn’t have the guts to tell the blonde he needed to think more of what he was doing to himself, and Zayn’s bank account.

 Thursday 17th March

The hospital contacted Zayn the following morning to inform him of Niall’s improved condition. Checking that he had got the prescription and was prepared the have the man back in his house. They mentioned how stress was very bad for him and to keep him out of stressful or loud environments. Zayn approved of their conditions of release, basically saying that he has to have an inhaler on him at all times and that he should consider some sort of therapy or counselling for his fits. The doctors had witnessed his slightly violent fit when he woke up in the hospital without Zayn, felling overly vulnerable and slightly imprisoned.

Zayn hurried over to the hospital before work, he had packed a bag of clothes for Niall; not wanting the blonde in the blood splattered jeans and t-shirt he had been in in prior to the accident. Just thinking about what happened when he had popped out from work scared Zayn, his heartbeat quickened and his heart strings tugged in an emotionally painful way just imagining the way Niall looked so scared and desperate. He couldn’t breathe properly and there was blood, something Zayn had always hated. The look Niall gave Zayn when the oxygen mask was placed over his mouth was something the tanned man will never forget, the pure terror in his eyes and how pale his cheeks were, the blood splayed across his shirt and slightly dribbling from the corner of his mouth and nose was etched in his mind as he walked into the hospital. He was alright, though, his boy was fine; and that’s what scared him the most. He wasn’t cured, he wasn’t ill so there was no cure; just something to use and hope it helps. An inhaler isn’t a permanent cure, there’s always the possibility of it becoming ineffective just as his previous one had, and Niall suffering in a similar was he had that day, again.

Niall was immediately put at ease when the familiar figure of Zayn entered his dull hospital room. Deborah smiled supportively at the tanned lad, removing the needle form the blonde’s hand and standing to her feet.

“I’ll just sign in that you’ve been checked over, and you are free to go,” she stated noticing the way Niall’s body obviously slumped slightly in relaxation now that Zayn was in the room. The plump brunette scribbled down a few statistics that were relevant to the form, signing her signature at the end and leaving the clipboard to dangle off the end of the bed nice again.

“Thank you, Deborah,” Zayn smiled, pulling a shirt from his bag to give to Niall, who had barely spoke directly to the woman during his overnight stay,

“It was a pleasure, good luck,” She said earnestly, looking straight at Zayn, Niall not even paying attention to the lady, his sole focus on the t-shirt he didn’t recognise that was hanging in front of his face.

“Let’s get you changed then, yeah?” Zayn muttered, Niall not responding. “Up you get, then,” he tried again, this time tugging Niall from the bed lightly, the blonde complying with his husband’s wish and standing, albeit shakily. Zayn helped him untie the robe, the blue eyed man watching Zayn’s face like a hawk. Seeing the light stubble hat hugged his jawline and lower cheeks, accentuating the highlights of his face perfectly; he hadn’t been close enough to admire the small parts of Zayn in over a year; the man’s beautiful face was almost erased from his memory by the trauma of the war before he returned, almost not recognising the an when they met at the station. Zayn continued to mumble things to Niall, telling him to raise his arms or lift up a leg.

“Thank you for saving me,” Niall got out, just as they entered their cosy abode, Zayn’s head whipping up to look at Niall’s blue eyes that, for once, resembled those same calm and innocent ones he fell in love with.

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an: Wow! 1321 words, thats a new record! (I know some people wriek 5k worded chapters but I don't have the patiece for that) I've got a new laptop (yesterday) and the keyboard is so much beter cmpared tomy old one that had no space bar, so hopefully update qaulity will be better now.

What are your throughts so far? Nialls improvement? Zayn's confessions this chapter were quite a big thing, I think.

I barely get 5 comments per chapter so lets comment more guys! Inline comment your thourhgt on bits an pieces, I don't mind.

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