Fragile Heart (Niam)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sin

"Liam!"

The beautiful Irish song wafts through my ears. The crimson slowly fades back into tiny red dots. I bring my eyes down and I catch a glimpse of an extended arm. My extended arm. It's almost like a movie. Everything turns into slow motion as my gaze follows where my arm goes. Black melange coat material inch by inch, particle by particle until I see the first patch of slightly tanned rough skin. Somehow, my mind registers that the skin morphs and forms into my hand, the rigid yet flexible bones elongating into fingers. Fingers that are satisfied as they crush themselves around the panther's shoulder. Pressure tightens as my knuckles become white with blood loss, a pained wince slipping out of Zayn's mouth.

Something delicate, fragile lands on my shoulder, but instinctively I shake it off harshly. Snapping my neck to the left, the look of hurt mixed in with fear doesn't even faze me. Somehow, I just can't bring myself to care about Niall's feelings right now. Because something in me hurts.

"What do you want?" I ask with venom dripping from my tongue. My angel's wince sends a wave of shock through my chest, but that doesn't stop the fire bubbling inside of me.

"Liam, what are yo-"

"Really? Has Zayn been rubbing off on you that you just can't seem to get it?" My anger is misguided. Because my flower hasn't done anything wrong. But for almost an entire month I have been neglected. Nothing has been going right. No intel, no less ambiguity from Zayn. And no blonde angel.

"What?" he quivers.

"Liam, he's no-"

My hand pushes harshly against the wall of lockers and Zayn flinches. My eyes darken as they land on the asshole.

"You don't get to speak," I growl darkly. "This is a conversation between me and my boyfriend.

"But y'know what?" I turn my head back to Niall, tears starting to brim in his eyes. "You don't get to speak either."

Niall's lips quiver. Something stops in my chest, but rationale is thrown out of the window.

"You've ignored me for a month." Lie.

"I-I-I ..." But nothing comes out of him. No words. No coherent words to be exact. Just mumbles and jumbled noises and sounds.

"That's right. You have nothing to say. So that means until you have something to sa-"

"You're disgusting," a gravelly smooth voice snarls. Zayn's amber eyes burn holes into the side of my skull. A red hot fire burns in my chest. What the hell?!

"You glorify yourself over the fact that you love Niall, but here you are. Right now. Accusing him of ignoring you when all he ever wanted to do during every moment with me was leave and be by your side. Here you are, letting your anger out on your boyfriend when it should be directed towards me. Here you are, standing in this damn hallway not letting Niall finish his fucking thoughts while you breathe in your huge ego. While you stand here thinking that you can break others down - even your own fucking boyfriend - while you try to bring yourself to the top. And for what exactly?"

Zayn's eyes hold such a blazing scrutiny that I don't know what to do. Such crass poetry coming from the panther's mouth hits me like subsequent bullets piercing through my soul. My hand loosens its rough grip on the shapeshifter's shoulder. It all suddenly comes crashing down. What have I been doing?

I turn my head back to my angel. And bewilderment strikes my core. Because my angel's eyes aren't what I thought they would be. Everything looks the same. The glimmer of tears are still brimming his eyes, the sparkle of sadness still shining, the blotchiness of red still painting his porcelain cheeks. But instead there is an icy coldness. Some frostiness that hardens his angelic features. That's when I figured out I messed up. But it is too late. Through the frenzy of becoming obsessed with the Big Man and the White Dove and wanting to keep my promise to my angel, I broke it. I broke it in this very hallway staring at an icy-eyed flower. My flower.