I'll be Strong for You

Chapter 7

Zayn is weak. It takes him only three days before he caves and calls Liam. He doesn't answer, and he doesn't call back, either. Zayn tries again. And again, until he realizes how fucking pathetic he's being. After that he stops trying to talk to Liam and he starts trying to forget him.

Except he can't because Liam is everywhere. And he finds himself sitting at his desk constantly, pencil poised over the sketch of Liam. And he finishes it, finally, by memory this time. He gets the eyes right, fixes the eyebrows, somehow manages to capture Liam's lovely jaw and the birthmark on his neck and the crinkles by his eyes.

Louis is concerned. He's probably rightfully concerned, too, because there is something detrimentally wrong with him. Teenage relationships aren't supposed to feel like this. Of course he's supposed to feel like the world ends at first, but he's supposed to get over it. But Zayn is not getting over it. Louis thinks this is because he doesn't have closure, that it's because things ended so abruptly and without warning, and therefore Zayn needs to figure out why before he can, as Louis puts it, "Start healing and get back out there."

The thing is, Zayn knows this isn't it. It has nothing to do with being confused (which he is, though that's not the point). It has everything to do with Liam. If it were anyone else, Zayn thinks it would be different.

He's shading in the tops of Liam's shoulder -- the only part of his body in the sketch, other than his head and neck-- when someone knocks on the door downstairs. Zayn is home alone today, his dad still at work, his mum taking the girls out to do shopping. He sighs and wonders if they'll leave if he ignores it for long enough, but the knocking continues, only louder and more insistent.

Zayn groans and pushes away from his desk, heading for the stairs. The knocking continues and he can't help but snap, "I'm coming."

It stops abruptly and Zayn rolls his eyes as he reaches the door, fingers curling around the knob. He pulls it open, expecting Louis (because who else could it be, really?), but that's not who he finds on the other side of the door. It's definitely not Louis. It's Liam, and he looks -- he doesn't look good, not at all the way he is in Zayn's memory. It's been two weeks and yet he looks thinner, and his skin isn't so much sun kissed as it is ashen and pale. There are bags under his eyes, too, and his lips and chewed to shit.

"Hi," Liam says quietly.

Zayn slams the door in his face. His heart is hammering in his chest, and this isn't fair. Why is he here?

He can't hold himself up, so he leans against the door and slides to the floor, pulling his legs up to his chest. He buries his head in his hand and curses Liam's name silently, over and over, wanting to hate him and failing miserably.

"Zayn," Liam says quietly. "I know you're there."

"Fuck off, Liam," Zayn hisses, banging his head on the door. "Just go the fuck away. I don't even know why you're here right now."

"I need to talk to you." His voice breaks and Zayn wonders if he's crying. He sincerely hopes that he is, the asshole. "Please. Just give me five minutes to explain. That's all I'm asking. I don't want you to forgive me, I just want you to understand."

"Fuck it," Zayn mutters, pushing himself up. He pulls open the door and then says, "You have exactly five minutes, and then I want you back out of my life, Liam."

"Okay," Liam says softly, nodding.

Zayn doesn't wait for him to come in or take his shoes off. He just stomps up the stairs, throws open his door, and collapses into the chair at his desk. A moment later Liam comes in and perches at the end of his bed, head ducked, hands folded neatly in his lap. Zayn notes the way his shirt seems to hang off him, too big for his body, which isn't right because he knows that shirt, recognizes it, and it should be stretched tight around Liam's wide shoulders.