A/N Hey guys, sorry it’s been a few days since I last updated. I had lots of homework and soccer tryouts. Anywho, thanks for all the amazing comments and such. This story has so many reads it’s crazy! So thank you guys so much! I love you all. Here’s chapter 22. It’s sort of a filler, but more Narry next chapter I promise! Enjoy! (: xx
Liam’s POV
I ran into the locker rooms as fast as I could, ripping my gear off my body and changing at lightning speed before running back out the door. I sprinted towards my house, glancing at my watch every few meters because this was cutting it close. I reached the driveway and flew up to the front door, shoving it open and stumbling inside. I couldn’t breathe my heart was pounding so fast. I looked at my watch again and sighed in relief. I still have two minutes. I leaned back against the door, threw my bag to the floor, and tried to catch my breath.
Exactly two minutes later, a large man stomped into the living room from the den, slamming the door in his wake. He advanced towards me, but I held my ground. I will not show my fear. He sneered at me, looming in close to my face.
“You were almost late Liam,” he growled.
“I had practice,” I stated, keeping my voice empty of emotion.
“I had practice,” he mimicked. He took swipe at my head, but I ducked it. He glared at me and staggered back a bit.
“Well look at you,” he sneered, spit flying from his mouth. He reached forward and roughly prodded the bruise on my face. I held back the wince, imagining that I was still at practice. I pictured running laps in my head as he jeered at me.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who hates your guts you little faggot,” he grinned and I held my breath as his disgusting alcohol infused breath washed over my face. He was still way too close, and I tried to tense my stomach without him noticing. He didn’t notice, luckily for me, and a second later I felt a hard punch on my ribcage.
I gasped and winced, partially for effect, but partially because it did hurt quite a lot. He smiled, clearly pleased with himself.
“That’s for almost being late,” he told me. Then he slapped me hard across the face. I didn’t flinch. That would only provoke him to do worse things.
“Now get your ass in the kitchen and do your chores,” he spat at me before he stumbled back into the den. As the door slammed again I breathed out a sigh of relief and headed for the kitchen.
I rolled my eyes as I saw the huge pile of dishes in the sink, half-eaten food scattered about the room. The most noticeable thing was the shattered beer bottles that covered the floor. I stepped to the sink and began washing the dishes.
A few days ago my father had awakened from his drunken haze and remembered that he had a son. He had managed to put two and two together and realized that if I did the housework, he wouldn’t have to. He had tracked me down on the way to Niall’s house from Zayn’s.
He did the usual threatening and verbal abuse and he’d hit me a couple times. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit me. It was a lot worse when I was younger and I was home more. I’d ended up in the hospital several times, and he’d told them that I was being bullied. The doctors believed him, because when he wants to, my father can come off as a very upstanding guy.
I’d always somehow managed to explain everything away to Niall, and he thought my parents just didn’t care about me. He was always trying to give me food because my parents wouldn’t let me have any. It’s been a lot better recently since I’m at Niall’s house all the time. My dad even got a new job and stopped drinking as much, and he and my mom just forgot about me for a long while, until the other day that is.
So now I have to be back here every night or he said he’d really hurt me. I don’t really care what he does to me. I am afraid that he’ll realize that and go after Niall. Thus why I am currently here, doing dishes for my bastard of a father. Did I mention that my mother just witnessed everything that happened? Yeah. She was just sitting in the living room. She’s the one who really doesn’t care. As far as she’s concerned, I don’t even exist.
On the bright side, I can leave as soon as I’m done here. I half smiled at the thought of getting out of this hell hole. I can’t wait for college. I’ll be out, and I’m never coming back. No one will be able to control me then.
Zayn’s POV
Ok, so this sounds a little creepy, but sometimes I sit under the bleachers and watch soccer practice...or rather watch Liam practice soccer. I didn’t stay the whole time tonight though because I had an English essay to write. Call me a nerd, but I love English, and I like to do my best in it.
I left a bit early so no one would see me creepin’ under the bleachers and walked back towards the school. A few minutes later I saw Liam come sprinting up the hill, so I ducked behind a bush. Yes, I know I sound like a stalker, but I didn’t want any awkward questions about what I was doing.
I watched in a mixture of amazement and confusion as Liam flew down the road. Damn that boy can run! I wonder where he’s going in such a hurry. I jogged quickly to my car and followed him down the road. He never slowed down, and I was genuinely impressed. He’s like an Olympic sprinter or something! A hot one…
I refocused to see him basically smash through the front door of a very nice house. Does he live here? Holy shit, his family must be loaded. I watched from my car for a minute, but I couldn’t help it. I slipped out of my car and jogged across the street. I stood outside the window and listened to what was going on inside. There was a door slamming first, followed by an angry man’s voice.
He called Liam a little faggot, and I was tempted to go inside and kick his ass, but I restrained myself. There was more talking, but I couldn’t quite hear what was happening. I chanced looking in the window and my jaw dropped open when I saw a large and clearly drunk man hovering over Liam. He had an evil look on his face, but Liam wasn’t flinching or even reacting at all.
He had this blank look in his eyes, and that made me even angrier than the yelling. Nobody should be allowed to make Liam look like that. The sparkle is gone from his eyes, and whenever I see him he’s almost always smiling or laughing…just happy. Not now though, and that’s not ok. I frowned.
Then, out of nowhere, the man launched a massive punch into Liam’s ribs. He winced, pain evident on his face, and I growled in fury. Several moments later the man slapped him hard across the face, hard enough to almost instantly bruise his cheek. It already looked darker. I clenched my fists. I am going to kill this guy.
I looked away from Liam to see that the man had retreated into a side room, and Liam was walking towards what I assume was the kitchen. I ran around the side of the house and peeked in through the window on the back porch. The room was filthy. There were empty beer bottles and uneaten food everywhere, and the sink was completely filled with dishes.
Liam walked over to the sink and began washing them, face impassive. After a moment he obviously zoned out, and I was amazed to see him smiling slightly. What? I need to talk to this boy tomorrow. I have to fix this somehow. Liam’s too perfect for this.
I crept back to my car, started the engine and drove away into the night, thinking furiously the whole way home. When I got there I flopped down on my bed. Forget my essay. The teacher won’t mind if I hand it in late. She loves me. I love Liam, and that’s more important right now.
I lay on my bed just staring at the ceiling for a very long time, my thoughts consumed by a brown-haired boy with beautiful eyes. I never wanted to see that pain in them again, but it’s not like I have any kind of power to really stop it. I sighed.
After several hours of arguing with myself about what to do, I decided on a course of action. I can’t stop it from happening, but I can help him after it happens. I can be there for him. I got up and changed into sweats and brushed my teeth. I shut off my light and made my way back to the bed, Liam still dominating my thoughts.
I finally drifted off to sleep with one thing on my mind. I don’t care if I’m not good enough. I don’t care how everyone sees me. I don’t care that he probably thinks I’m some sort of punk who gets in trouble and gets tattoos to look tough. I don’t care that Liam deserves someone 100 million times better than me. He deserves someone who can love him, and I do. So fuck my plan. I’m gonna tell Liam how I feel the first chance I get.
