Chapter 73_

"Charles! Charles!" I yelled into the large house, Zayn's heavy body dragging me down as I attempted to hold him up. 

He was slipping from my grip and pretty soon he would be on the ground.

The scotch seemed to have completely taken over any previous working part of his brain and at this point he wouldn't be able to think properly until at least the morning.

"Stay with me, Zayn," I urged, letting go for just a second just so I could grab him again, hoping I could get better leverage with my hand a bit higher up his waist. His other (heavy) arm was slung around my shoulders, weighing my petite body down even more. "Come on... Stay awake, almost there," I strained, my eyes darting from doorway to doorway expecting to see Charles any moment. 

Thankfully he has yet to disappoint because I can hear his soft footsteps vibrating the floorboards as he runs towards me. He appears seconds later and quickly takes Zayn me, making the weight go on him instead.

"Thank God! Thank you so much," I cried. 

"Is he ok?" Charles questions, craning his neck to look at the half asleep Zayn hanging on him. 

"He's... He's drunk," I finally state, deciding to skip the long story and just tell him the main facts. "Do you think we will be able to get him up the stairs and into his bedroom or?" I trailed off, looking at the old man expectantly.

Taking another look at Zayn, he shook his head. "We might just have to have him sleep on the couch tonight. He's too far gone to use his feet and sadly my body isn't strong enough to carry him up the stairs," Charles sighed. 

"That's fine," I mumbled, looking over towards the couch which Charles had already begun to walk towards. 

"Almost there, Mr. Malik," Charles encouraged and small moans could be heard escaping Zayn's lips as his feet toppled over the other, half of the time just dragging across the floor.

Finally Charles slowly let Zayn down on the couch. He began to take off his shoes but I shook my head. 

"I'll do that... You've helped enough," I thanked him, giving him a small smile. 

He set down one shoe on the ground and gave me a nod before walking off. 

Thankfully a fire was already burning, bringing warmth to this chilly room. 

I got down on my knees and slowly removed Zayn's remaining shoe, setting it down quietly beside it's matching one. 

Zayn didn't have a tie on (something told me he lost it somewhere at the bar), nor a jacket (also lost at the bar), so he was pretty much set.

Standing up, I wandered the halls searching for linen closets and after 10 minutes finally gave up and decided I should look for Charles instead. Maybe he could tell me where one was.

I retraced my steps back to the living room and went through the doorway and hallway Charles went down. 

I became lost again but was saved when I saw the glowing light of a fireplace coming from within a room. 

Stepping inside, I spotted Charles sitting on a plush chair, lots of old and large dusty books laid out in front of him. One of them in his hands. 

"Charles," I inquired, making him turn towards me. 

He smiled warmly. 

"So this is where you hang out," I joked lightly and he nodded. 

The place was much like the living room, only much smaller and more personal. For example there was a desk with letters sprawled across the oak surface, two plush chairs besides the far, bookshelves, a small table against another wall (complete with little TV), and even a mini fridge. There was a warm fire set in one of the walls, and rich colored aged rugs carpeted the wooden floors. 

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