Dedication: -boytoys thanks for voting and the funny comments!
Zayn as a baby, aw
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All Liam wanted to do was curl up underneath his bedsheets, and fall asleep. Yet, that seemed nearly impossible with his luck. Instead, the sound of the hanging clock ticking was a constant reminder, that he had under three minutes to get to his bus stop. Raising a single curled fist, he rubbed it underneath his droopy eyelids, which were probably coated with a darkened shade of grey. He sighed, contemplating about whether he should run upstairs and grab some makeup to cover the exhaustion up with, but decided against it. Too much work and too little time.
Besides, it's not like he had given much thought to the rest of his appearance. Once he heard the chattering voices of his awakened parents from a few doors down, it was like his silent alarm, that told him that school was about to begin. So, before his mother could dare make an entrance, he begrudgingly moved from where his head had fallen across his desk, to his nearby closet. The yawn that escaped Liam's frail lips was a distraction enough, to which his hands simply picked at the hanging fabrics, stopping bedsides a random one. He blindly tugged the jumper off of the hanger and threw it on, deciding that his sweatpants were alright as well.
But, now that he managed to give himself another glance, he just noticed that he was wearing a 'My Little Pony' hoodie, that Louis had jokingly given him for Christmas. Ah, he sighed. How amazing. Still, he couldn't find a care in the world, to go change it. Besides, at the rate he was going, he might as well kiss the school bus goodbye.
He leaned down and grabbed the poster board, which he gripped tightly to his side. Nowhere in hell was he going to let the painting go to waste. It was actually the reason that Liam has gotten hardly any sleep at all, which was a sudden change from his daily minimum seven hours of sleep. The hassle that he had to go through in order to finish it, was truly bizarre. Yet, it'd be worth it if he could see that smile brush across Zayn's lips.
Yes, as obvious as it was, the painting was for Zayn. Liam had taken up on Niall's suggestion about creating a replica of the submission that he had ruined. So, he snuck in before the school had emptied yesterday and dragged the poster with him all the way home. From there, he spent nearly all afternoon leading up to dawn making it. It was hard enough to even copy it, considering the large spill on the original one made it troubling to see the scenery. That forced Liam to improvise a bit, which he sincerely thinks makes it look worse. Though, he couldn't have just left half a sky or a missing tree, because that'd make it look crazy and not in a good, abstract way.
Plus, Liam sucked at anything that was considered art. Drawing a circle was a challenge for him, so you can just imagine what painting had done to him. Though, he was able to draw a mean stick figure family. It was one of his big accomplishments, that he swore he'd put on his resume one day. But, that wasn't good enough for what he had to make for Zayn. So, after a night of watching YouTube tutorials, spilling paint all over his room and starting over a handful of times, Liam had finally finished.
But, he isn't saying that it necessarily looks good. It didn't look as horrendous as he imagined, but wasn't part of his proudest moments either. Blame it on his exhaustion.
Swinging the door open, he slammed his sneaker on the pavement, as he took a step out. Locking it behind him, Liam strode down the stairs, practically dragging his feet all the way. In situations like this, he actually wished he had poured down a cup of caffeine earlier. But, Liam could not drink coffee. He despised the taste in general, a surprise to the popular opinion. The only thing he could tolerate was the smell, something that he actually enjoyed sniffing in. It was like his own personal drug. Though all they were only fumes of course.
He moved slowly towards the bus stop, shocked to see a load of familiar faces still standing close by. The yellow vehicle hadn't made an appearance yet, which made Liam sigh relievedly. But, that action seemed to be cut off short, once a harsh pair of eyes met his.
Xander grinned from where he was sitting on the bench, practically taking up all the room with his long legs. His mouth moved as he stumbled out a few words that Liam couldn't hear to his friends, before he began climbing off of his previous seat. Liam resisted an eye roll; did he really have to do this so often? Especially when he already felt half dead and didn't need some bruises to prove it even more. Plus, why did Liam even deserve this torture? What has he done to face this type of karma? Liam liked to think that he was a kind, good-hearted boy. He helped people whenever they asked for assistance and even shared his food when he obviously didn't want to.
Yet, this didn't seem to be good enough, from how the universe paid him back. And he was just about to get another bold and unnecessary thank you, just about now.
"Where's the three faggoteers? Missing your boyfriends today, huh?" Xander asked, face glowing with smugness from the little joke he played off. Liam wanted to defend them, saying how he was not in a relationship with either of them. He was quite out of their leagues anyways, in his opinion. But, the comment would do no good anyways, considering the bully would ignore it and continue his taunting.
"Yep, their presence is missed," Liam replied dully. "Listen, it'd be great if we could maybe reschedule this little beating session. I really am not in the mood for looking even deader than I am already, so how about Thursday? That's seem quite alright," he suggested, voice tensing a bit. And maybe it was his fatigue or weariness, that brought out his boldness, but he didn't mind. But Xander did.
"Ha ha ha." He laughed fakely with a small pause in between each breath, even going as far as placing a hand in the middle of his chest. But, almost immediately a snarl formed on Xander's face, and he jerked that same hand out, to grip Liam's shoulder with. "You thought bitch," he muttered, before shoving Liam to the ground.
The boy felt on the hard pavement with an 'oof.' His body was sprawled in different directions, items slipping out of his pockets and hands during the motion. Before he could reach out to grab them, Xander's loud cackle stopped. He stared down at Liam, a finger tapping at his chin menacingly. The other rolled his eyes and looked away, vision instantly melting once seeing his phone lying across from him, screen slithered across the ground. It was for sure at least cracked. Then, almost instinctively, his gaze wandered until it stopped by the sight of his poster, letting out a relieved breath once noticing that it didn't look that bad.
However, his eyes were narrowed from a harsh kick on his leg, causing a wallowing scream to part from his lips. Liam's hands flew to cup the body part, hesitantly looking up to stare at the bully, with a fidgeting stare.
"Think you can roll your eyes at me, huh?" Xander growled, jolting his leg at another kick. And another shriek. "Next time I'm going claw those eyeballs out," he threatened, to which Liam simply nodded his head along to. Because if he didn't see the beaten boy responding, he'd be even angrier.
As Xander's lips parted to sputter out more threats, another voice interrupted him beforehand. "Yo Ritz, the bus is 'bout to leave!" The said teenager turned on his heel to see his friend calling him and a look of alertness washed over his face. The same occurred to Liam as well, knowing this was his last chance to jump on the vehicle. Yet, that seemed nearly impossible, from the state he was currently in. Plus, the last kick that Xander had just landed right in his ribs, sent him down another round of abrasive pain.
"See ya at school, loser!" Xander laughed, as he jumped on the stairs, poking his head out to add in another few words. "If you make it!" He smiled devilishly, before his body disappeared inside of the bus. And only moments later, so did the sight of the vehicle itself, as it sped down the streets.
Meanwhile, Liam was still hunched over, not knowing whether to clutch his stomach or legs first. He chose the first. What would he do now? How was he possibly supposed to go to school now? Xander was right, would he even be able to show up? Liam contemplated between skipping it in general, before shaking the idea off. The school would probably ring his mum about his absence, landing him in another round of trouble. Besides, he still had to give Zayn his painting.
Thankfully, the canvas didn't land in any mess, it was laying besides him actually. His phone however, was a completely different story. He leaned over and grabbed it from where it was thrown a few feet away from him, gripping it in his hands. Instantly, he could feel the shattered glass scrape against his skin, causing his eyes to clench together. His mother would kill him for sure. It was already a challenge to persuade her to buy him an iPhone, (she would easily settle for a Nokia), and he'd ruined that too. Great.
Thankfully, the device still worked, besides the scratches and broken shards that littered across it. He pocketed the phone, before pushing himself up from the ground, breathing in tightly, from the sudden push of pain. He swallowed it though and limped across the sidewalk, grabbing his backpack which was laying across the grass. Quickly, he grabbed it and dusted the dirt off with a scrunched nose, before swinging it over his shoulder.
Liam stood cluelessly on the pavement, looking around at the deserted area with a forging look. What was he supposed to do? He was already an hour late to school, and thinking any longer would make him even later. So, he did the first thing he could think of and that started by picking his phone back out.
Tapping a familiar contact, he placed the device by his ear, letting the ringing echo through his ear. He nearly let out a breath of relief, once hearing a familiar voice call out on the other line, before pausing it midway. "Liam?" The sound of his mum's panicked, yet hurried voice already told him that'd she'd be of no assistance. Actually, he'd probably be a useless bother to her instead.
"M-mum?" He stuttered out, voice stumbling a bit and accent thickening.
"What Liam, I'm busy!"
"I, well I, uh missed the bus," he stumbled out the words. "And was wondering if you could pick me up maybe?" He asked, waiting for her reply, with a hopeful gaze.
Except, nothing ever went as planned in Liam's world. "What?! You missed the bus? How many times have I told you to get out of the school early, Liam. But noo, someone thinks that the whole world waits for him. When Liam's done styling his curls and dressing up, then and only then will the bus come. And if Liam isn't ready then everyone will wait, right? No Liam, that is not how the world works! When will you gro-"
"Mum," Liam interrupted her, palming his forehead with his free hand. "Listen, I'm already late so could you just answer the golden question. Can you pick me up or not?"
"No! I will most definitely not! Especially not to someone who's acting so rude and ill-mannered. You don't usually behave like this Liam James, and I do not appreciate the tune either, mister. I am your mother and you ne-"
"Mum," Liam groaned, while pushing himself off of the curb. "Please, save the lecture for later. I'm just going to walk to school and if I get kidnapped, it's not my fault," he shrugged. "I gotta go, bye." He hung up before he could even hear her response, only holding in long enough for a dramatic gasp. He rolled his eyes as he pocketed the phone and grabbed his poster instead. He for sure was going to get a long lecture tonight. But whatever, it's not like it's anything new.
His footsteps echoed through the deserted path, the sun rising above him. A gush of wind flew past him, throwing his curls in all directions. He picked one out of his mouth, scrunching his nose in disgust. Liam's brown eyes roamed at the familiar scenery around him, which he usually bypasses on the bus everyday. Yet, he doesn't pay much attention as he does now. Alone with his thoughts, the only sound that he could hear was of him walking and of some chatting birds. Instead of the usual annoying, perky voices or the booming music. And quite frankly, Liam likes it better this way.
The trees brushed against each other, as they shadowed over the neighboring houses. Most windows were beginning to become illuminated with lights, which he imagined meant that people were finally waking up. It was about time for the younger children to get ready as well, which brings a nostalgic smile to his face.
Ah, childhood. What a blessing and a curse. As a child, being younger felt like some sort of never-ending punishments. Always having your judgement ignored, being pushed around and neglected, being told to only respect your elders, even when they didn't respect you. All Liam wanted to do was grow up as a kid. But now as he slowly is, he can only regret that foolish wish.
Now, the world is thrice as hard as it seemed when you were younger. All the responsibilities and the pressure of becoming only one thing: successful. Because if you don't be just that or follow your parent's dreams, you'll be seen as some laughing stock. It's happened to many of Liam's cousins. The ones who became dropouts or chose to travel the world instead of study, get joked about behind their backs. Or sometimes Uncle Robert would even do it right in front of them at Thanksgiving. Liam always hated him the most.
Yet, you never really cherish your youth until you've finally passed it, growing a few years into your teen years. Now, all Liam does is miss being a kid again. The innocence and always go-lucky attribute makes him smile. He wants to go back to those days where he could just lay in front of a couch in his pajamas and watch cartoons all day. Or, even being sick and having his mum take care of him with such care and love. Going to the carnival was his favorite, because his dad would always clutch his hand extra tight down the roller coasters that they had, while Liam squeezed his eyes shut.
Those were the days. If only he could go back in time and bring them back, but obviously he couldn't. All he could do was soak in the memories and hope to make even better ones.
Before he knew it, Liam was pushing past the school doors and entering the building. He was instantly met with the sight of posters and pictures littering the walls, along with an arrow that pointed towards the office. Despite already having the direction memorized, he followed it anyways. Liam paused outside the door, leaning down and placing the canvas against the doorframe protectively. Then, he hesitantly jolted the knob and walked inside.
Mrs. Meyers, the secretary, immediately looked up as he stepped a foot inside. He sheepishly smiled at her, while she just turned and glanced at the hanging clock, before sighing. Liam watched carefully as her hand went flying towards a stack of small papers, before plucking out a small slip. "Name?" She asked boredly, pen already tucked between her fingers.
"Liam Payne," he answered, before stepping closer to her. She stuck the slip towards him and he took it with a thanks. Mrs. Meyers simply hummed and went back to whatever she was previously doing, which was his cue to leave. Liam spun on his heel and trekked back outside, grabbing the painting and heading towards his locker.
He passed into the eairy hallway, which was only lingered with a few roaming students. Some stared at him, well more at his sweatshirt, which caused Liam to blush and sped up his pace. He finally paused by his locker, which he quickly unlocked, while the canvas rubbed against his leg.
While emptying his bag, a sudden tap on his shoulder jolted him into a shock of awareness. Liam turned on his heel and was met with Niall, who gaped at the sight of him.
"Mate, you look like a walking corpse." He commented, eyes still wide and searching around Liam's body. The other boy rolled his eyes and returned to his books, gathering the needed ones in his hold.
"Thanks. Tell me something I don't know," Liam replied, as Niall shrugged ineffectively with a laugh threatening to erupt.
"I mean wow, those bags under your eyes are a very pretty shade of purple, may I say. What brand may I ask?" Niall asked with a mischievous grin.
"Insomnia," Liam replied dully, causing the other to snicker. He leaned down and grabbed the poster with his free hand, which Niall immediately poked at curiously.
"What's that?" Niall asked, while rubbing his finger up and down the paint, until Liam finally slapped it away. That obviously caused the dramatic boy to pout, as he cradled the hand to his chest.
"The replica of Zayn's art submission. Took me all night," Liam breathed loudly, eyes only clenching once he felt a sudden pain in his ribs. Niall glanced at him concernedly, but the other brushed it off, though it hurt like an ass. But he obviously wasn't going to tell Niall that. He didn't want to cause any unnecessary worries.
"That's why you look like shit," Niall snorted and Liam couldn't help but let a frown brush across his jaw. He knew he didn't look quite presentable, but he didn't think he looked that bad. How was he supposed to meet Zayn like this?
"Do I really look that bad?" Liam asked him, lip jutted in between his teeth. Instantly, a wave of guilt washed over the other and he shook his head frantically.
"No! I was just joking mate, you look fine. I would lose the pony jumper, but besides that..."
"Yeah, whatever. Don't you have to get to class, anyways?" He asked him and Niall nodded his head, while sticking his thumb behind him.
"Totally forgot about that. Mrs. Lorenzo's gonna kill me if I don't show up soon. Swear she's got a stick always up her ass or something," he rolled his eyes and Liam cackled. "Well, see ya in history, alright?" He asked with a clamped hand on Liam's shoulder, who simply nodded. "Bye!" He spoke with a wave, before he hurried towards the other direction.
Liam however moved stealthily towards the staircase, glancing around to make sure that there were no teachers by. Once making sure there were none, he hurried onto the rooftop, the painting still in his hands. Once he actually placed a foot on the area, the flimsy air waving through his body, he carried the canvas towards the ledge. There, he dropped both himself and the art on the floor, before whipping out his phone.
Sending Zayn a quick text asking him to meet him, he already began waiting for a response. Would Zayn even show up? Would he even read the text? He didn't seem much like the type of student who would text in class, too afraid of being caught. But neither was Liam, and here he was. Skipping class and on the school's rooftop, where students weren't allowed.
A shaky smile overcame his lips, as his screen illuminated. He pressed his thumb across the broken button, which brought him back to the conversation.
Zee: rn?
Liam: yeah, that ok ?
He waited a few seconds, eyes glued to the device nervously. He grinned however once reading the reply, that read 'coming.' Once a much awaited minutes had past, Liam finally heard a pair of footsteps coming from behind him. Spinning on his heel, he was met with the sight of Zayn walking towards him, with his hands hidden inside his pockets. Liam shakily smiled at him, while the other simply rolled his eyes. That caused him to frown; Zayn was still mad? But he usually gets over it by now. Hopefully the little 'gift' would win him over.
"I said I had to go to the bathroom, and if I take too long they'll think I'm taking a dump. Why'd you call me?" Zayn asked, footsteps nearing Liam's. The other managed to sputter out a laugh, but quickly shut up once seeing the other's glare. Instead, he leaned behind him and grabbed the painting, fingers shaking.
"Um, I felt really bad about ruining your painting. It was an accident really. I wasn't thinking and knocked over the paint and saw it spilt and I ruined everything. I didn't even know it was yours, I swe-"
"We've gone over this. What's behind your back?" Zayn asked curiously, but Liam still managed to swallow sharply at the tone.
"I-I made a replica," he sputtered out quietly, eyes narrowing as he handed Zayn the canvas. He waited hesitantly for the response, wondering how he felt about it. Cautiously, he raised his gaze, feeling a bit relieved once seeing his milky smile. "Do you like it?" He asked hopefully, while Zayn's eyes raked over the painting interestingly.
"It's amazing. Thank you so much," he grinned with a voice much gentler than before. Liam blushed from the compliment and simply shrugged it off, rubbing the back of his neck instead. Inside he was actually exploding, feeling as missing sleep because of this might actually be worth it.
"So, are you going to use it then?" He questioned, stroking out the golden question. Zayn's adam's apple bobbed a bit at that, as he swallowed thickly. He paused for a moment, before shaking his head. "What? Why not?" Liam asked confusedly. Did Zayn not like it? But he just admitted that he did? Maybe it was his exhaustion speaking, but he felt more confused than usual.
"I would love to really enter this, it's amazing. Almost better than mine. But, I'd just feel guilty. You spent so much time making this and I couldn't just take the credit of it. You should enter it actually," Zayn suggested, but Liam laughed the idea off.
"It looks like literal shit Zayn, so I understand why you don't want to enter it." Before the other could argue, Liam continued. "Listen, I just wanted to make sure you know I'm apologetic. You don't have to enter it if you don't. But, do you accept my apology?" He asked, teeth grazing against his bottom lip.
Instead of a verbal response, he was pulled into Zayn's chest. He smiles into the hug and wrapped his arms around the other, understanding the answer immediately. Still, he could feel the other boy nod against his shoulder, which caused him to grin even harder. Eventually though, they broke away from the embrace, simply staring at each other just like old times.
"Think they're thinking you've got diarrhea," Liam joked.
"True. There goes my dignity," Zayn exhaled through his nose, as the two walked towards the door, with the painting held under his arm protectively. Liam grinned and opened the door for him, which Zayn tipped his imaginary hat at. "Thank you sir."
"No problem madam," Liam responded, laughing once seeing Zayn smack his arm with a pout. "Hey!"
"Shush darling," Zayn brushed his finger across his lips, as they sneaked down the hallway. And he surely gained Liam's silence, the other being too caught up in the trance to speak. Because Zayn both touched his lips and called him a cute nickname. And the other seemed to know what he had exactly done, as he walked with a smug smile.
So, it seemed as if just like every other day, the two boys were back to being friends. But, Liam couldn't help but wait for the day when they'd become something more. Who knows when or if that'd happen anyways. But, a boy could always dream, right?
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Length: 4k
Thoughts?
Sorry for the delayed chapter. Had a very busy weekend and legit feeling so sick rn. Sorry for any mistakes too, didn't have time to look over it. Anyways, please vote, comment and follow. Lots of love! x