Our "Little" Secret >>Ziam Ageplay<<

Chapter Seven

What is with this story and my ideas? Once I sit down to write it I can't stop. I can't even believe it's chapter seven already. In other news, it's freezing here. Carry on. :P

Zayn wasn’t really sure what to think when he woke up alone the next morning. He wasn’t tangled up in blankets like he usually was, but carefully tucked in, as if someone lovingly took the time to make sure he would be kept warm and not kick the poor fabric off. His dummy was bobbing innocently under his nose, but the place Liam had been hours before was vacant, the blankets still crinkled but pulled up to help keep Zayn warm. He pondered over where he might have gone for a few moments and listened for a possibility that he may have just gone to the bathroom, but after ten minutes, it was clear something else was going on.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, not even bothering to remove his pacifier before he got to his feet. After toddling down the hallway – he wasn’t used to walking with the thicker nappies just yet – he spotted a white sticky note stuck to the table, clearly made out to him being he was the only one there. He picked it up, allowing his eyes to graze over the few words so maybe he wouldn’t be so confused.

Ran to the studio to record for a bit, be back by noon. I’ll bring lunch. Love you xx

Zayn blushed and set the note back down, leaving it exactly where he had found it. It was almost eleven, so hopefully Liam would be home soon. Until then, he may as well grab a small bite to eat so his stomach wasn’t growling.

Toast seemed simple enough, so after grabbing the bread, a knife, and butter, that was exactly what he set to making. He popped two slices of bread into the toaster and pressed the button down, waiting patiently for it to pop back up, golden brown just the way he liked it. It took less than a minute, and he carefully set the slices on a plate so he could spread butter on them. His stomach was growling before he could even open the yellow container.

The house was boring without Liam; he realized that right away. There was nobody to cuddle him or give him that large white-toothed smile he had always loved. He especially enjoyed Liam’s singing voice. The stage version was beautiful and much lovelier than his own, so he thought, but Liam’s casual voice was so much better. It hit all of the melodic notes that sent chills down Zayn’s spine and goosebumps across his skin. A smile started to graze his lips without him even realizing it as he thought about years ago, when he and Liam had first met. How he had been so nervous about going out on stage every night and how Liam was always the one to hug him, tell him they were talented and were going to do well, that he was going to do well. Liam had been his rock then, and he was his rock now.

Being too busy thinking about Liam, Zayn didn’t even notice how close the knife was getting to his skin until it was too late. He accidentally dragged the blade across his finger as he spun around to drop the cutlery into the sink. He automatically let out a cry of pain and gripped his thumb, watching as blood started to drip down onto his hand. It looked much worse than it felt, but still. Blood.

At first, the only logical thing that popped into his mind was to stick it under the faucet. He turned the water on, setting it to cold, and stuck his thumb under it and watched as the red swirled down the drain. His stomach churned, and he had to force himself to look away and take deep breaths so he didn’t get sick. The water made the new wound feel better after only a few seconds, but instead of moving away and wrapping it in something, he left it under for a bit longer. He didn’t want to see any more blood drip down.

After a few more moments, Zayn started to turn the water off when he heard a key being shoved into the lock, the doorknob jiggling. “Zayn?”

“Right here.” He called back, stopping the water and pulling his thumb back. It looked much better, and the cut had only gone deep enough to make him think he had hit some kind of major blood vessel or something. In reality, there was a thin, simple line that ran across the pad of the finger to his knuckle. It would be healed within a few days.