Reason To Be (A Zouis Family AU)

Part Two, Chapter Three

Liam lets out a panicked huff as he presses his hands over his ears and tries to block out all sound so that he can focus on writing the history essay in front of him. The question is one that he knows he should find easy. 'Explain why some groups did not benefit during the 1920s in America'.

His mind can't seem to think, and he slams his palm into his temple a couple of times as if he's trying to knock the answer into his head.

It doesn't work and he throws his pen down on the desk before standing up abruptly, almost knocking his chair over in the process before he storms over to his open window.

He's all sweaty and hot despite the snow filled skies outside. The voices become louder the closer to the window he gets.

"Come on Agent Danny!" Niall yells, running to the end of the garden in his winter jacket, hat pulled firmly over his ears so that all Liam can see from his room is the eight year old's bright red nose.

Danny comes running next, dark hair sticking up from running around in the wind, hands held in front of him like he's holding a gun in their imaginary spy game that Niall always loves to play.

There had been a time where Liam would have gone and joined in with their little games just to make his baby brother happy, but now the sound just aggravates him. He slams his window shut, hoping that the two eight year olds hear the sound and take the hint.

He can still hear their muffled voices as he moves back to his desk, and his hands find their way back up to his ears, fingers absently tugging at the hair on the sides of his head as he struggles to take an even breath. He turns his attention back to the question in front of him and he reads it again. Then again. Then once more because his stupid brain still can't seem to process any of the words, his throat is all right and closed up, and he can't breathe in a way that hasn't happened since he was Harry's age.

There's a knock on his door and he physically flinches before he glances up in time to see his Papa poke his head into his room, giving him a small smile.

"Hey kiddo. Dad's making drinks for everyone, asked if you wanted anything?" He asks, eyes lingering on the fifteen year olds face before his brows knit together in concern. "You okay? You look a little stressed."

Liam just shakes his head quickly, because the last thing he needs is his Papa trying to force him into taking a break when he really needs to get this essay done and then study some more before mock exams start the following week.

"I'm not stressed, Papa. Um. I could use a coffee? Please," he says, and the man lets out a small chuckle.

"You and your coffee. I'm starting to think you have an addiction," he comments, and Liam manages to force a smile in return, finally sucking in an even breath at the temporary distraction.

"It's only my second one today, Papa," he replies.

Papa just laughs, ruffling his hair in a way that comforts the boy more than he'll ever let on because he's fifteen and determined to be seen as an adult. "Alright, I'll bring it up to you in five. Just...take it easy, alright?"

Liam nods and waits for the man to leave the room before he turns back to the question with his heart racing. Taking it easy isn't an option. He doesn't want to be a failure.

.

The week before exams passes by in a whirlwind of nothing other than stress. He drinks more coffee than he's sure should be humanly possible in an effort to stay up until late to study every night, catching maybe a couple hours if he's lucky before he has to be up for school again. And every day goes the same; school then home to do more schoolwork, skipping lunch to study in the library some more and then feeling too sick to eat all of his dinner each evening. The routine passes by each back in a slow haze of anxiety and hunger and exhaustion; and then plenty of coffee which worsens his anxiety, dulls his hunger, and pushes his exhaustion back for a little while.