The Waiter Boy - A Ziam AU Mini-Fic

Chapter 9 - Please Come With Me

Zayn’s P.O.V.

            My day with Liam had gone amazing. I honestly don’t think I have ever loved anyone this much. Whenever I was with him, I just felt whole, and better.

            He had to leave this small town behind and come with me. There wasn’t anything holding him back. He had to. I needed to persuade him. So, the day after our picnic date, I decided to visit his house for the first time. It was a small little place, and from the outside, I could tell the owner was busy with things other than yard work. It looked  little shaky around the edges, but it was still a house nonetheless.

            I knocked three times, loud and hard, and then stepped back waiting for someone to answer it. After a moment, Liam opened the door. His face was red and splotchy, as if he had been crying.

            “Liam, babe, are you okay?” I asked, stepping closer to him and putting my hand on his shoulder. He flinched away slightly, but didn’t back away from me. What was wrong with him? I stepped forward again, now practically in his house, and I wrapped my arm gently around his waist. “What’s wrong?” I whispered in his ear. Liam wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and it was frightening--to say the least. “Please, baby,” I begged.

            Suddenly Liam broke down into tears, “She was all I had left,” He sobbed openly into my shirt, and I wrapped my arms all the way around him now, as his entire body shook.

            “Who?” I asked softly.

            “My grandmum,” He said, “She can’t be gone, she can’t be gone, she can’t be gone,”

            His words became a sort of mantra, and he repeated them over and over.

            “Zayn,” Harry called form inside the house. I looked up to see a tired looking Harry standing in the kitchen, “I’m glad you’re here. Bring him back inside, I’ll explain in a minute,”

            I nodded and dragged Liam inside, his body practically limp in my arms.

            “Zayn, it hurts, it hurts,” Liam whimpered.

            His words sent physical pain through my body. I needed to help him. What should I do? All I knew is that I had to make him feel better, to stop crying. Because, god dammit, I love this boy and he is telling me that he’s in pain. If I could take all the pain away from him, and I could, I would in a heartbeat. I don’t care how cliché it sounded.

            “Shh,” I cooed in his ear, “It’s going to be okay,”

            “Zayn,” Liam whimpered as I fell back on the couch and pulled his body with me, “Zayn,”

            “You’re okay,” I continued to shush him, planting kisses on his head and cheeks. He was holding onto me for dear life, our bodies melding together and becoming one.