I am in no way British nor do I understand British lingo, so please forgive my American ass if I make any mistakes haha! I was writing about Liam and money, and I was sitting here wondering whether if they call it a "bill" or not over there, so I kind of googled it a bit and settled for "note". idk LOL what am I even saying.... thank you for reading and supporting me! Much love to all of you! xx
⌛ ⌛ ⌛
❝LIAM❞
"I'm hungry," Niall whined, pressing his lips together in a pout. I rolled my eyes and got up off of the couch, no longer allowing him to use my lap as a pillow, causing him to whine even louder. He wriggled his body closer towards the armrest and tried to use the uncomfortable wooden thing as a pillow instead.
"You just ate," Zayn called back loudly from another room, his voice bouncing off of each of the walls, filling the empty rooms. Zayn had taken a sort of fascination in the abandoned mansion and insisted on exploring the grounds, even though I had told him that there was not much to see.
I had already searched the entire premises—well, the ones that were proven to be safe. There was nothing left behind that could even indicate who had lived here; it seemed that the place had been ransacked multiple times over, leaving only the broke-down furniture that nobody would bother stealing.
"I'm sick," Niall wailed, flapping about on the couch like a fish out of water.
"I swear to god you're like ten," I sighed, abandoning Niall and wandering deeper into one of the halls in search for Zayn. Niall continued to curse and threaten to kick my arse if I were to disappear from his sight. I smiled at his words but continued my escape from the living room nonetheless.
I eagerly passed by several rooms, hardly glancing into each one to see if Zayn happened to be in any of them. Much to my dismay, by the time I reached the end of the hall, I still hadn't found Zayn. My eyebrows furrowed together as I pushed open the final door and peered inside.
My lips turned down into a frown as I recognized the room as one of the bedrooms I had promised to myself I would never enter at any cost; it was evident that the previous owner of the room was an adolescent girl, considering the fact that there was a dusty yet frilly bed in the middle of the room, topped off with a number of eerie dolls.
With my eyes glued to the dolls in captivation, I didn't notice Zayn's approaching figure from behind; needless to say, I almost shit myself when he blew on my neck. My voice came out several octaves higher and without even turning around, my arm reflexively spasm, elbowing him in the ribs; Zayn doubled over, laughing and crying out in pain.
"Oh my god," he coughed and grinned cheekily up at me as he rested his hands on his knees, pausing to take several deep breaths. "Your face."
"Shut up," I muttered, crossing my arms across my chest.
"Aw," he smirked. "Did I scare you?"
I gritted my teeth and turned towards him, gently pushing him as revenge. Zayn, in return, put up his hands to shield himself from my hands as he backed up against a wall, laughing all the while.
His back lightly bumped against the dusty, wooden walls. A small puff of dust detached from the wall and surrounded the two of us. I pressed my elbow against his chest to keep him from pulling me closer to him; I was so not down to get any closer to that dusty, moldy wall.
"What, punk," I snapped, opting to switch from playful shoves to tickling instead, seeing how shoving was having no effect on him.
Zayn let out a yelp and shifted; several more layers of dust and mold detached itself from the wall, littering the air once again. My face twisted into that of disgust and my nose scrunched up as I felt a sneeze coming on.
I almost forgot about the banter between Zayn and me until he grunted softly when my knuckle grazed down his side. He glared at me, warning me not to continue.
"Oh," I smirked, biting my bottom lip as I glanced up at him innocently. "You're ticklish."
"Nope."
I quickly poked his side, breaking out into a grin when his breath hitched and a short squeak betrayed him. His body curled in on itself, doing whatever it could to protect itself from the wrath of my fingers.
"Say that again," I dared him, quirking my head onto one side as a playful smile stretched across my lips.
"I'm not ticklish," Zayn said confidently, pausing after each word for emphasis. He began making grabby gestures as he tried to tickle me back.
"I'm not ticklish," I said mockingly, catching his hands and mercilessly attacking him. Zayn yelped, begging me to stop with, what little breath he still had in him.
Luckily for Zayn, our little banter didn't last long.
"Stop flirting and get me some food," Niall screeched. I huffed and halted my attacks, peering down the hall and spotting Niall with half of his body hanging upside-down over the side of the couch. His arms lazily dangled over the edge of the couch while his hands dragged across the wooden floor as he tried to capture our attention.
"I agree," Zayn quickly said, pushing me off of him. "I volunteer!"
He ran back to the living room and huddled behind the couch which Niall laid on, almost as if he was trying to use Niall as a shield to protect himself. I rolled my eyes and slowly made my way back to the living room, careful not to step on anything broken.
"Are you sure you can find your way back to the petrol station?" I asked, digging into the pockets of my coat for my wallet.
A small frown fell upon my face when all I came across were several used tissues and pocket lint. Finally, after reaching into another front pocket, I was able to find the wallet; I pulled it out of my pocket and ran my thumb over its leather material, pondering whether or not I really trusted Zayn with the contents inside of my wallet.
"Yes," Zayn replied, placing his right hand over his heart. "I solemnly swear that I, Zayn Malik, will safely journey to this," he paused, "petrol station' and return with this food that Niall speaks of."
I scoffed and shook my head at his words; regardless, I slipped my hand into my wallet and pulled out a wrinkled ten pounds. I slowly approached Zayn and reached a hand out to him, gesturing him to place his hand in mine. I pressed the note into his hand and gently wrapped his fingers around the note.
"This is all I have left so you better not screw this up," I said, scanning his face for comprehension. Zayn nodded his head in confirmation. I took a deep breath before continuing. "Once you reach the petrol station, turn left and keep walking until you reach the outskirts of the city. If you keep following the nicely-paved road, you will eventually make it to a grocery store; a food market, if you will. When you get there, look for the aisle that says 'canned foods' and grab three 'chicken noodle soup' cans; no more, no less. Then go to the cashier lanes and pay for the cans. Got it?"
Zayn's eyebrows furrowed together as he mumbled the laundry list of steps back to himself. "What's a cashier again?"
"Oh my god," I sighed, slapping my hand over my face. "I'll go."
"No!" Zayn quickly said, shaking his head firmly. "I can do this; just you sit here and chat with Niall a bit. I'll be back in no time!"
Before either Niall or I could open our mouths to speak, Zayn had disappeared out of the front door.
"You should..." Niall trailed off.
"I should."
I hurriedly made my way towards the front door, avoiding broken vases and slashed paintings all the while. By the time I made it across the hazardous floors, Zayn was nowhere in sight; only several dirty footprint trails indicated where Zayn could possibly have gone.
I sighed and leaned against the doorframe, peering out at the horizon. There was a sliver of fear that Zayn might get lost or confused by modern grocery stores, but I had faith in him; it was obvious that Zayn was a highly educated individual—not to mention that he also wasn't one who would shy away from asking for help if he needed it.
"Couldn't catch him?" Niall asked. He sat up from the couch and rested his crossed arms on the backrest of the furniture; his chin was propped up on his arms.
"No luck," I replied, closing the door gently behind me. The metal hinges creaked and groaned as I struggled a bit due to its heavy weight and rusty hinges.
Niall watched me with his cerulean eyes, making me unbelievable self-conscious under his gaze as I made my way towards where he rested and took a seat right beside him. Niall shifted closer towards me and gently rested his head down onto my lap, just where it was previously before I had ditched him to look for Zayn.
My fingers subconsciously tangled itself in his hair as I began twirling the brunette hair around my index finger. "I didn't know you were a brunette."
"I didn't know you were a brunette either."
I glanced down at him disapprovingly just in time to catch him sneering at me. I rolled my eyes at his snarky remark. "I didn't know you were into Harry."
His eyes widened and his cheeks began to redden at the mere mention of Harry. He shifted uneasily and pulled the blanket up to his nose, quickly trying to hide the prominent tint on his cheeks. I smiled at his actions, trying dearly to disregard the slight squeeze in my chest.
After a few seconds of heavy breathing and uncomfortable silence, Niall finally spoke up in defense. "I didn't know you were into Zayn."
My hand stopped running through his hair as I literally felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach. "And how the hell did you come up with that solution?" I asked. A part of me knew that it was true, but another part of me was still crushing on the boy who was lying in my lap.
"Since I've been living with Harry, I've picked up a few pointers when it comes to reading people," Niall shrugged nonchalantly.
"You lived with Harry?"
"Shut up, Liam. I was his butler; I didn't have a choice."
"Kinky."
Niall gave me the dirtiest glare. "What?"
"You know; the typical master/butler stuff," I sneered, winking as his face contort into a disgusted one.
"What the hell? You're nasty."
"Not as nasty as how you probably looked after Harry gave you all those love bites."
"You just hit an all new low."
Another silence fell upon us as I smiled down at Niall and pinched his cheek softly. "This is really nice," I sighed, leaning back onto the backrest and closing my eyes. Niall hummed in response and began rambling about the little things he's noticed between Zayn and I that fueled his theories in regards to my crush for the strange nineteenth century boy. I would occasionally nod my head or respond with short answers to make him believe I was still listening when instead, I was really consumed by my thoughts that I had no desire in voicing.
"How did mum handle it?" Niall suddenly asked, grabbing ahold of my hand and gazing deeply into my eyes. He promptly sat up and adjusted the blanket, draping it over my lap.
I rested my head onto the top of the backrest and closed my eyes. "She cried. Of course she did; she was absolutely devastated. You and I both know that you were the last thing next to family that she had left."
I continued to speak about the frail woman, going into the conversations we held during the time that I spent with her; before I knew it, a series of soft sniffles emerged from the boy beside me. I peeked open an eye and glanced over at him. Niall had the blanket clenched in his hands and his body shook with every sniff. I gently wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into my chest.
"I want to go home."
"I know, Niall."
It didn't take long until Niall had cried himself to sleep; his cheeks were nicely dusted with red, buried beneath the trail of tears that were left behind. I ran the pad of my thumb over his cheeks to wipe away the remaining tears and gently rested his head onto my shoulder, adjusting the blanket to cover the both of us.
Frankly, I was surprised how Niall was even able to stay up for so long; it was a miracle in itself how he was able to make it all the way here on foot. Niall was already running a slight fever when I first ran into the two, but according to word on the street, they had been walking prior to our journey for several hours; goes to show that one should never underestimate Niall.
I glanced over at Niall and smiled, brushing a few strands of hair away from his face. I rested my head onto his and closed my eyes, dreaming about the life I had before this whole ordeal began.
Several more hours must have passed because when we awoke, the sun had almost completely set. I drowsily sat up straight as the terrible scraping sound of the wooden door echoed throughout the house. A small grunt followed before Zayn's figure came into view.
"I think I've just been to hell and back," he muttered, gracefully stepping over the broken debris and making his way over towards Niall and me.
He dropped a plastic bag onto the floor, startling Niall from his slumber. "Zayn!" Niall exclaimed, leaning forward to give the latter a hug. "You're back!"
While the two excitedly chattered among themselves, I took it upon myself to open the bag and see what Zayn had gotten. My face immediately fell when I saw the contents inside.
"What the hell is 'vegemite' and why do we have three jars of it?"
Niall immediately gave Zayn a funny look and pushed past him to take a look at what was in the bag. He groaned and fell back against the couch in defeat. "Are you fucking serious? We're going to my house."
I flashed Zayn a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, Zayn."
"Thanks guys; it's not like I walked twenty miles for this."
Niall rolled his eyes. "At this rate, I'd rather get caught trying to sneak into my house for food than try to eat this. I mean—you didn't even get us bread at least."
"Buzz off."
"You're stupid, Zayn."
"At least I'm not stupidly in love with Harry."