Scars (Ziam)

Closer

Hello, loves! Ahhh, third day of 12 days of updates!

I really, really hope you enjoy this chapter because I see it as more of a turning point to the story. However, please remember that healing takes time and can never magically get rid of the darker parts of life, but it's important to cherish the good moments, no matter how fleeting they are.

Warning: This chapter deals with familial issues, which I know may be a sensitive subject especially around the holiday season (trust me, I know), so please read carefully. Also, there is a brief mention of depression and suicidal thoughts. Please read with caution and know that you are so loved!

I really hope you enjoy!

Chapter 41:

It took me a moment to register where I was as I woke up. Squinting at the low sunlight filling the room, I knew that I wasn't in my bedroom. No, I was at Zayn's house. I stayed the night, and he so easily allowed me to because I needed it.

I turned to the side, finding that the bed was empty beside me. All of the cover was on my side, wrapped around me and keeping me warm. Yawning, I climbed out of bed and stepped on the bare floor, the cold instantly running through me. I looked around the room and spotted some spare house slippers near the door, so I rushed over and slipped them on. Then, I left the room in search for Zayn.

As soon as I exited the room, I was met with the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air. It smelled as good as the bread from the bakery did. The scent was familiar and calming as I walked towards it, peeking into the kitchen to see Zayn standing in front of the stove, taking eggs off of the stovetop and serving it on two empty plates. I watched him take a knife to the bread, which was still in a pan and probably hot to the touch, cutting even pieces and placing them on the plates alongside the eggs. He was humming quietly to himself as the tea kettle went off, whistling loudly in the small kitchen area. He seemed at peace with himself and the world.

"Good morning," He suddenly spoke up, making me jump even though I was the one who basically stuck up on him. I was far too focused on just observing him that I didn't even realize he took notice of me standing a few feet away from him.

"'Morning," I replied in a mumble.

"I didn't wake you, did I? I was going to take you breakfast to let you rest for a while longer." He poured the boiling water into two cups that had tea bags hanging inside of them.

"You didn't," I said, still trying to overcome the weird feeling that was pooling in my stomach at waking up in Zayn's home and watching him prepare breakfast for two like he'd done it a thousand times before.

Maybe he had. Zayn had been in other relationships, and they all seemed to last for a decent amount of time, even if the falling outs were anything but decent. But I didn't feel inferior. Even if we weren't dating, I knew of Zayn's affections. That was all I needed to know.

"Do you like chamomile?" He wondered. I nodded before walking further into the kitchen instead of lingering by the corner. Zayn looked down at my feet at the sound of the slippers against the ground, and there was a small smile tugging on his lips before he turned away to grab utensils for both of the plates.

"Did I steal all of the blanket?" I questioned, remembering how it was tucked all around me, leaving Zayn's side completely bare over the bedsheets.

"No. I get up pretty early. It's really just a habit that I can't shake. My body clock is so accustomed to it. I... I did a bit of painting before making breakfast. I was quite inspired, I guess," He said, clearing his throat as a faint blush coated his cheeks. I didn't really understand what he would be embarrassed about, but I figured it may have to do with what his family revealed last night.