Scars (Ziam)

A Complex Emotion

I sat quietly while they all conversed with one another, eating away at their food on occasion, when they were gesturing wildly during their stories. It seemed to be something that everyone in Zayn's family did. They were very expressive in their speech. The table was filled with laughter and screams of hysteria at certain joked while I watched on, laughing along every now and then and finding myself happy for all of them, yet a bit hollow inside. Like something I had was lost.

"We really should get going now. It was such a pleasure getting to talk to you more, Liam. Meeting you has been lovely, and I wish you all the best, dear," Zayn's mum opened her arms wide and pulled me into a tight hug. I blinked rapidly to hold in my tears. As soon as she let go, I smiled at her, hoping it displayed even a fraction of my gratitude.

"We wish you both the best. We're really glad you two have each other." His dad held his hand out to me, offering me a handshake, which I tried my best to make sure it was firm, but I think I was far too nervous to give a proper shake.

"Hey, and if my brother ever messes up, you let me know, and I'll put him in his place," his oldest sister said, squinting her eyes at Zayn while smiling.

One thing I learned about Zayn's family is that most of them were huggers. They would pull you in and squeeze you tight, welcoming you easily. I was never one for hugs much, but I was quickly growing used to them.

His mum was beautiful and kind, and she seemed to always want to take care of others without ever being asked to. Being around her, though comforting in a way, made me miss my own mum.

His dad was somewhat quiet with a hidden sense of humor that came out when his family was having fun. Zayn seemed to really take after him in the fact that they were both strong but gentle around the ones they cared for.

His sisters all had different personalities of their own, but they were all outgoing yet sweet. Of course, nothing stopped them from poking fingers at Zayn and letting a joke fly off their lips at his expense, but none of it was cruel or mean. It was all in good fun, something that was taken away from my family the moment our car window blasted to pieces.

Interacting with his family really made me yearn for my own even more.

As soon as they all said their goodbyes and were out of the door, I moved in to hug Zayn from behind as he locked the door shut. He didn't react at first, probably taken off guard, then his hand fell over my own around his chest, my head pressing between his shoulder blades.

"Are you alright, love?" He delicately voiced.

"Yeah," I mumbled out, feeling Zayn loosen my arms around him so that he could turn to face me. He lifted my chin gently, lifting my head until our eyes met, and he smiled down at me.

"I think my family absolutely adores you. More than they adore me." He chuckled at the thought, and I couldn't help but smile as well.

"I'm glad they like me." I dropped my hands to my sides, the only contact between us being Zayn's fingers on my chin. He leaned in close, smiling before shutting his eyes and pressing his lips against my own. I followed suit, closing my eyes as well for the soft kiss that lasted no more than a few seconds. My heart was beating erratically in my chest.

"I want to tell my dad about us," I found myself admitting aloud.

Zayn's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise.

"He doesn't already know? I assumed that he at least suspected it. I mean, I've been to your house several times, and we've gone out together."

"He works a lot," I excused, avoiding Zayn's eyes for a moment. "I don't know. I think I also didn't want to tell him."