Finding The Courage (a Ziam Mayne AU)

Chapter Fourteen "Maybe"

Liam's POV

I laughed. I didn't want to. I just couldn't help it. The thought I could have killed Stan scared me more than I cared to admit.

I didn't kill him. As much as I hated him, killing was no option for me. That was one step too far. You could try to fight fire with fire but the bigger the fire the bigger the damage.

"Why are you laughing?!", Harry shouted, tears falling from his cheeks again.

"I'm sorry I scared you. Come here." I wrapped my arms around him and stroked his back to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Harry. No. No, I didn't kill him."

"What did you think you were doing?!", he shouted, punching me in the chest. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

I winced at his punches. "I'm alright, Harry. I'm alive."

"You're hurt.", he said, pulling away from me. "What the fuck, Liam? What was all that about?" He had calmed down a little.

"Killing my demons." I smiled. "Metaphorically."

"God.", he sighed, his smile happy that I was okay, his eyes angry that I hadn't told him about any if this. "This isn't like you at all. What's happening to you?"

"I'm alright.", I reassured him. "These are just battle scars." I said that like I was proud of it, but I couldn't be. The wounds my past has left on me were a painful reminder, not a trophy. If I could, I would get rid of them without hesitation.

"Battle scars.", he spat. "You can maybe lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me. None of this is alright. This isn't fine."

"Harry.", I said calmly, cupping his cheek with my hand, smiling at him. A genuine smile. I meant it. I wasn't forcing it. It came to me as easily as breathing. "Alright or not, it's over now."

We both knew it wasn't over. Not completely but for now, he had to be satisfied with that. We both had to.

"And what about Zayn?", he asked eventually.

That oppressive feeling in my throat returned again and I got trouble breathing properly. "I don't know.", I managed to bring out and pressed one hand to my lungs, trying to free them.

"Liam, you can't go on like this.", Harry said soberly. "This is tearing you apart."

"But if it's not him who does this to me, it would be someone else..." And I wouldn't for the world want it to be anyone else, I added in my mind, promptly trying to erase the thought again. Without success.

The realization hit me like lightning. If I was gonna let anyone screw up my life, I wanted it to be none other than Mister Zayn Malik.

I took a deep breath. "Harry...", I said under my breath, trying to steady it, pulling my hands away from my throat. "I think I might... be in love..."

He waited a while for me to take it back. Then he smiled, tears in his eyes. Tears of happiness. "Really?", he said carefully and took my hand, pressing it so tightly it hurt.

"Maybe.", I said finally, biting my tongue. "Maybe... I am..."

"That's good enough for now. I'm proud of you. I'm happy for you." He threw one arm around my shoulder, the other one draped around my torso. "Baby steps."

"Baby steps.", I repeated to myself. Baby steps. But I wasn't sure in what direction yet.

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Ever since I'd said it out loud, I felt different. Not exactly better - just... different.

I had to get Zayn to trust me again. I had to get him back into my life. No matter how. No matter how much I could get hurt. I needed him. I felt like something was missing without him. I didn't care if he was good for me or not. He was what I wanted. And sometimes what I wanted didn't correlate with what was good for me.

"I don't even have a present.", I suddenly realized while we were getting ready to go to the party on Friday.

"Well, you're too late for Louis' birthday anyways. And Zayn didn't ask for anything. He said he'd throw anyone out who gave him a present.", Harry shouted from the bathroom.

"But technically I don't know that.", I objected.

"He won't even notice." Harry came into my room, wearing nothing but his boxers, holding up two button-down shirts both with equally freaky patterns. "Which one looks better on me?"

"Define better."

He rolled his eyes. "You know. Which one is more likely to make Louis fall onto his knees and confess his immortal love to me?"

"Neither.", I said matter-of-factly. "Louis is way too classy for that. You won't get him back just by looking good. If that was the only thing he's after he'd have taken you back a long time ago."

"But I'm at my wits and with this boy. It's driving me insane. He is driving me insane!", he moaned, skidding the shirts onto my bed. "I don't know what else to do. He won't listen to me."

"Well, sometimes actions speak louder than words.", I said, picking up the dark blue shirt with little silver triangles all over it and handing it back to him. "I say you should wear this one."

He nodded and left the room without another word. When he turned around my eyes were drawn to the four fine lines on his right shoulder. I had matching ones on my upper left arm. The only scars he had on his fragile body. And they were my fault. I was the one who dragged him into my problems. But he was the one who never left my in spite of them.