𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⸙

1.67𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

"Then everyone will see me naked." Zayn shrugged. "I get that you're a little shy, but I saw you earlier. You have nothing to be embarrassed about."

"N-No?"

"Nothing at all." Zayn reached over and tugged on one of the multiple layers Liam still wore. "I liked what I saw. A lot"

Liam detected a tinge of pink on Zayn's cheeks. He's flustered again. Liam pretended like he hadn't noticed. "I-I like my body, but I'm not used to other people seeing it."

"I understand." Zayn still eyed him like he could see under his clothes. "I'll find a door for the bathroom tomorrow."

"Where would you find a door?"

Zayn shrugged again. "I'll steal my mums."

He finally put some trousers on when Liam shivered. Zayn would have curled up against him naked. They were moving closer to that level of comfort, but Liam's poor cheeks couldn't take more heat.

When Zayn was under the covers, Liam latched onto his warm body. His fingers were like ice. Their legs intertwined, locking their bodies together. Zayn was getting used to holding someone tightly before falling asleep. He could no longer picture an empty bed at night, and his thoughts lingered to his mother.

Amidst his grief, he had forgotten to think about how her days had changed too. Now that Zayn had Liam, he realised how lonely her life had grown to be.

"I think I'll look in my dad's office tomorrow." Zayn would usually keep those thoughts to himself. The longer he was with Liam, the more he wanted to share the thoughts that were heavy with emotion.

"Will you look with your mum?" Liam asked with his head against Zayn's bare chest. His skin was hot against the side of his face.

"Yes."

Liam listened as Zayn's heart quickened. "And you haven't been there since... um-"

"Since he died. No. I'm kinda- I feel weird about it," he mumbled. "I avoid that corridor because I can't stand to see his name on the door." Zayn frowned, not expecting to talk about that. He wasn't used to sharing how he felt.

"It might be good for you and your mum to take the time to remember him."

Zayn gulped back a sudden pang of sorrow. He held Liam tighter against him, using his comfort as a strength to tackle his sadness.

******

The next morning Zayn hovered behind his mother as she held the key to Xavier's office tightly in her grip. Her knuckled whitened, her breath was weary, her mouth was dry. Standing outside her mate's office was too much. She couldn't bring herself to open the door.

"I'll do it," Zayn said impatiently, worried that they'd both change their minds if they took too long. He had waited until after lunch to find his mother. Liam had given him all the encouragement he needed to finally reach approach the void that was his father's office.

Zayn took the key and shoved it into the lock. He held his breath and turned it. The door clicked, and his hand hovered above the brass handle. Zayn inhaled calmly. He felt the tension flowing from his mother.

The door had trapped so much pain inside, but Zayn inhaled another breath, and pushed the door open.

His mother fell to her knees.

Solana covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Sudden tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

Zayn crouched by her side and tried helping her back to her feet.

"I know." he said when she failed to form words.

"It smells like him."

Zayn admired her strength. She was dragging herself through each day just for him. Without a mate she was hollow. Zayn was the only strength Solana had left to get out of bed each morning.

"I never- I-" Solana, with the help of her son, stood up and edged towards the room. "His clothes were starting to lose that smell. My poor Xavier." There was a stain on the worn peach carpet where he died and werewolves had tried to clean it up.

Zayn and Solana stood in the doorway, looking around the room. The blinds were still drawn up wonky, just the way Xavier liked it to avoid the sun shining on his papers.

An empty mug of what would have been black coffee still sat on top of books. The chair Zayn had sat in that dreadful night still rested in the same place. The desk had mounds of papers stacked all around it. Xavier struggled with computers. He liked putting paper to pen. He liked drawing maps and pinning things to his walls.

Zayn entered first, leaving his mother to clutch the doorway. The atmosphere in the room was heavy on his heart. Zayn breathed as though his breath would disturb too much. He moved carefully to a picture on the wall and unpinned it.

The picture was small and at least ten years old. His parents stood at the front with their pack all around.them. Nine-year-old Zayn sulked on the floor by his father's feet. If only I knew he would die so soon. All those years- fucking wasted. Zayn shoved the picture into his pocket.

Solana then braved a step. She almost tumbled but Zayn moved swiftly to her side. She linked an arm with his, and he took her to the desk. Solana slowly lowered herself into Xavier's leather chair.

"I used to greet him in this spot when he got back from his meetings." She wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled her long grey hair into a bun.

"The smile he would give me when he opened that door." She closed her eyes, gripping the desk. "I can see it as if he were standing there right now."

Everywhere Zayn looked, old memories formed. Opening the door to his dad's office had set him free in a painful sort of way. Zayn was already feeling lighter, but on the verge of tears. The memories hurt like a million pins pressing against his heart. Deep down, Zayn was thankful
to remember him in such a glorious light. His father had been his hero without Zayn even knowing it. He hoped that one day, he could make his father proud.

No, Zayn thought with a sudden look of triumph. He turned back towards the desk where his father had spent endless nights. Zayn wanted to make new memories in honour of his dad's hard work. Zayn could not fail now, not when his father's pack needed him for survival.

"I will make him proud," he said aloud, clashing eyes with his devastated mother. "I will!"