It's Better To Not Know Better (Ziam)

Driven

"Are you sure you're not sick?" he asked.

"Probably just a cold or something. Nothing too terrible." Liam gave him a tight smile. Zayn didn't like the smile, because it made something feel fake again. He didn't know if his newly found paranoia was trying to tell him something or if it was just driving him crazy. Or doing one in the process of the other.

Zayn's brows furrowed. "You need some more sleep?"

Liam sucked on the inside of his cheek, averting Zayn's gaze. "I don't think it'll help."

Zayn sighed. "Well, if you feel tired, you should probably take the shot, okay?"

The younger boy nodded, still refusing to meet the suspecting stare of the other. Zayn bit his lip, wishing Liam would give him some kind of contact, or some sign that would assure him that everything really was fine. He was almost positive that nothing about Liam had really changed, but only in his conscious state, which tended to pay less attention.

When Zayn was thinking subconsciously, that confusing state when he didn't even realize he was thinking, he noticed a lot more (minus the fact that he was thinking at all).

But Zayn walked away, leaving Liam to--well whatever he was going to do. he could be pretending to be a Directioner on Tumblr for all Zayn knew.

He was pretty sure they were spending the night in the bus. He felt bad about having to leave New Jersey so soon, but there were places they had to be, people to entertain.

"Hey Zayn?"

Zayn turned around. "Yeah?"

Liam's head peeked out of the curtain. "Tell the lads to leave me alone for a while?"

Zayn licked his lips, and nodded. He felt really bad for Liam and everything that had been going on over the past couple of days. And he'd explained it to himself over and over, but that only made him feel worse. He felt most of the blame on his shoulders.

"Zayn."

Zayn turned around, yet again. "Hm?"

Liam sighed. "Come here."

Zayn stepped over the duffel on the floor and sat on the bunk across from Liam.

"Over here, mate."

Zayn's heart pounded as he moved over. Liam pushed back the curtain and Zayn sat beside him.

"Tell me. . .what's going on."

Zayn swallowed any pride he had left and sighed. "I don't know anything."

"Zayn you can stop with--"

"No, I really don't!" Zayn clutched his head in both hands. "It's a bunch of rubbish. . ."

"Well, it's rubbish that I want to hear. Spit it out."

"I don't know where to start," Zayn groaned.

"Start soon."

Zayn had to admit to himself; it did feel pretty good to know that someone wanted to know what was wrong with him. Someone actually wondered what they would get if they told him to spill his guts out.

But not all of it.

Zayn looked up, straight ahead. "I feel like every time you're upset it's my fault, there's this incredible sickness I've got pretty much every time anyone says anything, because I keep overthinking everything in fear that I'm missing some big secret, ever since Harry said something!" He panted, since he hadn't taken a breath since he started. He hoped Liam had gotten all of that so he wouldn't have to repeat it.