Scars (Ziam)

Amend

Hello everyone! How was last chapter? 😘

This chapter continues the very next day after last chapter, and this one holds importance as well. There is a very important change in this one, and I hope you guys feel and understand it.

This is Liam's rise, but I want everything to be realistic, so it won't be easy, and it also won't be all good. In a mountain range, there are also valleys.

Enjoy! 💕

Chapter 32:

"Alright, Liam, think you can go refill the front case for me?" Laurence wondered as he put another batch of croissants in the bread oven. We were making a lot today, but I welcomed the work as a distraction.

"Yes," I simply said, walking over to the cart full of different pastries and bread for the front case. I pushed it towards the door, stopping as Laurence spoke once more.

"And tell Zayn to double check the heat for you. We want to keep those pastries warm for customers," He added, and I gave a nod before walking out from the kitchen with the cart. Zayn turned to see who was coming out of the room, and I saw him smile at me in greeting, my heart soaring as my cheeks heated.

He was true to his word. After our discussion in the warehouse, Zayn didn't try to push me for anything or make me feel guilty for not being ready. Instead, it was back to how it normally was between us. Our friendship dynamic never changed, but I also wasn't constantly worrying that his feelings for me would change. Whenever the thought crossed my mind, it was countered instead by the soft, admiring look on his face as he pressed a kiss to my cheek, then my fingertips.

"My uncle's making you do all the hard work today, hm?" He joked, moving to wipe down the front counter from all of the pastry crumbs there.

"It's not too bad. I like the distractions," I admitted. I opened up the front case and began placing pastries in the correct positions. We weren't busy right now or anything, so I wasn't too preoccupied with hiding my face away.

"Have you thought about the writing club meeting? Whether you're going to read something?" Zayn questioned.

It was a valid question, but the thought of reading in front of all of those people made me feel like panicking. How was I supposed to get the words out with all of their eyes staring at me?

"I... I don't know. It's quite terrifying. I don't think my writing's good enough to-"

"It is," Zayn insisted, breaking my sentence up.

I glanced at him to see him smiling encouragingly at me, and I felt those little butterfly flutters in my stomach once more.

"You never give yourself enough credit, Liam. Your writing is pretty life-changing," He commented with ease. He stepped closer and leaned one arm on the pastry case to continue speaking to me. "I think you have a great way with words in your poems, and I just know everyone who hears anything you write will be automatically awestruck."

I was blushing profusely now-- if my burning cheeks were anything to go by. I didn't dare look up at Zayn, focusing on my task at hand instead, but I could feel his eyes on me, just waiting for my thoughts. He always listened to them.

"I think I want to read something, but I don't know what to read."

Some poems were far too personal. The one I read Zayn was a reliving of the tragic event that changed my family's lives forever, but I didn't feel judged under his gaze. I've shown poems to Louis and my sister, but reading them aloud was a whole other beast in and of itself.

"I can help you figure something out, if you want. We can go to the park or my art studio or anywhere else and talk about it."

I knew that Zayn was being genuine. It wasn't him forcing me to go on a date or try to be alone with him. He would literally help me just decide what to read if I asked him to.