Chapter 4

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Liam lifted the tome to tuck it more firmly under his arm – it was bloody heavy, hardbound and broader than Liam's chest. He turned into the corridor leading to Zayn's quarters and didn't bother knocking as he leaned bodily into the double doors to open them – the doors were bloody heavy too.

Zayn sat at the same round table as he'd been the first time Liam had come in here, except this time, Harry sat with him.

Harry Styles was a Beta, as Liam knew now, and Zayn's best, most trusted friend. They'd both grown up together and Liam had already sensed that the bond of their friendship was tougher than iron – unbreakable. Liam liked the Beta; he'd always been kind to Liam.

Now, both of them sat cradling tumblers of dark amber whiskey and chatting in low, deep murmurs. They looked up and smiled at Liam when he strolled in, Harry's smile friendly, Zayn's smile careful and warm, his eyes heating in that familiar way that made Liam's heart skip a beat.

"Gentlemen," Liam said smoothly, and Harry chuckled.

"You been holed up in the library again, kiddo?" he asked, eyeing the tome that Liam heaved onto the table. Zayn looked from the enormous book to Liam, his expression amused.

"Well, seeing as I'm about to manifest any day now, it's only wise to read up as much as possible," Liam shrugged, walking around Harry's chair up to where Zayn sat, and gently prising the glass out of his huge hand. "Just preparing myself," he sipped on the whiskey, the alcohol burning his throat, though not as much as Zayn heated gaze burned him – Liam knew it probably drove him mad to see Liam drinking so casually out of his glass, as if it were the most normal, routine thing.

He stared back at Zayn over the rim of the glass as he drank some more; he didn't really like whiskey, but he rather enjoyed the intimacy of drinking out of Zayn's glass, placing his mouth where the man might have placed his own, ingesting that tiny bit of his saliva that might have entered the glass.

Liam was nearly mad with want for the man, and Zayn in turn staunchly refused to touch him again, claiming he was just way too fragile and that he could easily end up hurting him.

And Liam had too much pride to actually ask him again, not after he begged so shamelessly last time – and that had been a week ago. And he'd spent a lotof time with Zayn since then and it was unbearable to be around him and not touch, and be touched, by him. So Liam did everything he could to drive Zayn up the wall with want – because he knew Zayn wanted him just as bad, he could see it, he could feelit.

And judging by the way the man's hands trembled just from Liam's proximity, Liam knew he was so, so close to breaking him completely.

Harry cleared his throat loudly and Liam blinked, looking around slightly dazedly. Zayn licked his lips and turned away, looking out of the window at the purple and gold sky outside, the twilight falling through the glass, across his young, strong features, making his hazel eyes shine bright gold for a second or two.

"Well, I'll get back to it then," Harry drained his drink and heaved himself out of his seat. "Need to go set up that meeting with the minister." He picked up his phones and a sheaf of documents that he'd probably brought over for Zayn to sign.

"Do you work all day, everyday?" Liam asked lightly, leaning casually into the armrest of Zayn's chair, almost able to feel Zayn's peaking desperation.

"Well, somebody's got to," Harry rolled his eyes sighing. "When the man in charge can't be arsed to do anything-" Harry looked pointedly at Zayn who chuckled and lounged back in his seat. "-somebody capable has to step in, right?"

"See, now that's what Harry likes everyone to believe," Zayn said, the deep timbre of his voice sending a shiver up Liam's spine. "He wants everyone to think that I'm in charge, always ordering him about, when in reality," he grinned jovially. "He's the one who's actually in charge and he bloody well knows it."

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