Chapter 18

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Just like he did at the beginning of the year, Zayn avoids his room as much as possible. He spends all his free time in Louis and Harry's room or in the common room, and he puts in so much time at the library that he might as well live in there. But that's only because Liam is constantly in the room. Every time Zayn opens the door, Liam sits up in bed, mouth open, words about to come out. So Zayn backs out and shuts the door and hurries away.

He can't deal with it, is the thing. He doesn't want to know what Liam has to say. He doesn't want to listen to Niall trying to defend him (which he does constantly, now that he's apparently become great friends with Louis and Harry, always there to put in his two cents about the relationship that isn't really a relationship). Zayn wants to spend the next few months focusing on school work and nothing else. Liam does not fit into that schedule.

Nor does the box of chocolates he finds on his bed one afternoon. Liam, for once, isn't around. The room is blissfully empty, and Zayn was planning on taking advantage of that by going on his laptop to catch up on a few episodes of TV shows before he went to bed. But his eyes fall to the bed, and he frowns.

He slowly moves towards it, kicking Liam's messy shit out of the way. It's a small box, completely black except the red bow. He frowns, picks it up, and tugs the bow until it comes undone. There's no letter, no card. Just a few pieces of chocolate inside. Before he can stop himself, he takes one out and places it on his tongue.

Expensive, he thinks. It's not hard to tell the difference between cheap chocolate and the stuff that costs a little more, and this stuff is good. Rich and creamy, melting and coating his tongue.

Carefully, Zayn puts the lid back on, stashes the box in the top drawer of the desk, and then he falls onto his bed, pulling out his laptop. An hour, and an episode of Shameless later, the door opens. Zayn pauses the show, eyes lifting to Liam.

"Hey," Liam says pleasantly.

"Did you leave those chocolates on my bed?" Zayn demands.

Liam blinks, a frown tugging at his lips. "Maybe."

"Why?"

Liam shrugs and pulls open his dresser drawer. He riffles through it, pulling out clothes, and then he gathers up his stuff for the shower. Distantly, Zayn notices the sweat covering his skin, and he figures Liam was at the gym. If Zayn runs away to the library, Liam's escape is in the gym. He rarely even works out on their floor anymore.

Just before he's out the door, Liam hangs back and asks, "Did you like them?"

Zayn presses play on his show and ignores the question.

~|~

"You could have just told him you didn't," Niall points out. "You didn't have to ignore him."

Something Zayn's learning quickly about Niall, in the short time that he's pushed his way into the threesome of Zayn, Louis and Harry, is that he isn't as naive as Zayn thought. In fact, Niall seems possibly more aware of anything than any of them, sees straight through all the bullshit. And he hasn't been afraid to call Zayn out on it, unfortunately. Not that Zayn doesn't like the guy, because he does. A lot. But he likes living in his happy little world of denial a lot more.

"What was I supposed to say, though?" he demands. He's on the floor of Harry and Louis' room, Harry and Louis on Harry's bed playing a word puzzle, Niall sprawled out on Louis' bed with a bag of chips. Zayn wonders, distantly, why Niall isn't with Liam. Liam's probably missing his best friend, right about now, and it almost makes Zayn want to snap at Niall for abandoning him. But he has a feeling there's a reason Niall's with them and not Liam, and he isn't about to ask what it is, so he lets it go.

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