Strong (A Ziam/Zarry AU)

Chapter Eight

The boys left Algate East tube station, Zayn throwing sideways glances at Liam, "Are you ok sweetheart? You seemed a bit freaked in there. Do you not like enclosed spaces?"

Liam thought for a second and decided to lie "Yeah that was it. It was just really hot and stuff. I didn't like it. Sorry." Liam tuned out Zayn's soothing words. The truth was he had been on the underground a thousand times before, and wasn't claustrophobic in the slightest. He had been freaking out about the photographs that several people had taken. He was giving himself a talking to now, he was sure the pictures looked perfectly innocent and so what if one of the few people who had asked him, not Zayn, for a photo had said "Whats a tough bloke like you doing knocking about with a poofta?" his coarse cockney accent matching his coarse homophobic words. That guy, who Liam had wanted to punch, would never put two and two together. His brain wouldn't allow the possibility that his favourite boxer was guy. So he had no need to to panic. He just needed to chill and carry on enjoying his time with Zayn.

"So I've brought you around here because I thought we could go get a drink and maybe a sandwich or something at this really cool venue I want to show you then go to the Whitechapel Gallery. My good friend Kay has an exhibition on there. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

They walked for about ten minutes until coming to a stop outside a rundown but cool looking building.

"This is Wilton's Music Hall. It's the oldest surviving music hall in the world. Come on." Zayn once again dragged Liam into another old building excitedly.

Liam stood in the middle of the beautiful, dilapidated hall that took shabby chic to a whole new level "How old is it?" He breathed, thinking it was the second most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"186 years old. It's amazing isn't it? You can feel the history seeping out the walls. Just think of all the Victorian showgirls and prostitutes that have performed here. All the people who got drunk and danced here. It's one of my favourite places in the world."

"How did you find it?"

"I did a shoot here a couple of years ago and fell in love with it. I'm on the board of the charity to save and restore it now."

"Are there any charities you aren't involved in?" Liam laughed, feeling in awe of both his surroundings and the guy he was with.

"I just think it's important to give back. I work in such a shallow, vacuous industry, I get paid to look pretty. I don't want that to be the mark I leave on the world" Zayn shrugged earnestly.

"You're perfect." Liam breathed, the words just falling out. He screwed his eyes closed in embarrassment only opening them when he heard Zee's melodic laughter.

"Anyway. Being on the board has its perks. I just need to grab something from the bar upstairs, I won't be a sec."

Liam used the few minutes Zayn was gone to have a look around. He could see why Zee loved the place so much, it had an undeniable charm.

When he wondered back to where Zayn was standing, back in the centre of the hall, he saw the plaid blanket and wicker picnic basket.

"I stole your idea" Zayn beamed, sitting down cross legged on the blanket. He poured the pair a glass of champagne each and started pulling out sandwiches, posh crisps (chips), olives, anti-pasti and strawberries as well as plates and cutlery. "I only packed a small lunch because I'd like to go out to dinner tonight if that's ok? How do you feel about soft jazz?"

"That'll be lovely. And soft jazz is great why?"

Zayn sent a text and smooth jazz music started to float out of the P.A system.