"It Just Hurts"|| z.m

[99]

99- Zayn

Zayn couldn't sleep after that so he went downstairs, Niall following in his wake. "You sure you're not sleepy? It's four in the morning."

"Niall, you go sleep, I'll be fine," Zayn said with an exasperated sigh. He felt the urge to kick the boy out, finding it a little suspicious that Niall couldn't sleep anywhere else.

Zayn threw his crutches down as he plopped on the armchair by the fireplace.

"Do you want something?" Niall asked carefully, lingering by the wall. Zayn held his head in his hands, gently massaging the stiff spot in his neck. "Just coffee and I'll manage."

"I'll do it," Nill told him and disappeared into the kitchen. Zayn was too tired to protest and slumped in the chair, rubbing his hands over his face. His dreams were only a little part of his subconscious mind, he had to remember that. If he ever met the bastards again, then what happened in the dream wasn't going to happen in real life.

"Here," Niall said minutes later and handed him a steaming cup. The mere smell of coffee calmed him down somewhat, and Zayn could feel the sleep dragging him down. But sleeping right now would be a little risky.

Niall rubbed his bare arms and turned to the fireplace, sitting down to light it up.

Zayn took a sip of the drink, moistening his lips in the process. "You should get some sleep. I don't know when I'll come back up."

Niall smiled up at him, a little regretful, a little reassuring and a little worried. "If you want me to stay, then I'll stay."

Zayn pursed his lips, hoping not to sound rude. "I actually want a little space, if that's okay."

Niall nodded vigorously. "Of course, I get it."

The boy stood up awkwardly and smiled a little. "If you need anything, just wake me up."

"Sure," Zayn mumbled and took another sip of his coffee. "Thanks for the coffee."

"No problem," he said as he walked back upstairs, throwing worried glances towards him. Zayn wasn't looking, but he didn't need to look to know that.

He relaxed back in the chair, reclining so that he could rest his legs. He grabbed the remote from the mantle above the fireplace, the cackle of the fire calming him. He looked around the living room, eyes landing on the sofa where he'd been attacked in his dream. He could see it so clearly. Zayn rubbed his eyes and turned towards the TV, turning it on.

He ended up watching a rerun of the Office, heart not into it as he drank his coffee slowly. His body was calm, but his mind was restless. He changed the channel to news, just waning a little good news, a little reassurance.

But there was nothing there about bandits, thieves or attempted murderers being held or if they had escaped so Zayn changed the channel once again, this time deciding to watch a movie.

He refused to sleep and he didn't know what the time was, but the sun had started rising, light spilling through the curtains. His eyes burned, his coffee finished. The fire cackled peacefully, the tv voices low and fading. Zayn closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep.

"Oi, what are you doing down here, mate?"

"Louis."

"What?"

"Ohhh, right."

"Shut up, you two."