the song of persephone ♡ ziall/niam au [COMPLETE]

huit

"you seem more cheery," demeter said when niall got home. he didn't even respond; he didn't know what to say. spending with zayn had somehow made missing liam hurt a little less. now that he was alone, though, it came back full force.

he went up the stairs to his bedroom and laid down, feeling cold all over. the only place he'd felt warm was in liam's arms, and he missed that so much. he curled up tighter into a little ball, wanting unconsciousness to sweep him away from missing liam.

- - -

it had been a few days since niall saw zayn, which was...weird. it was weird to miss someone you didn't really know, but niall chalked it up to not wanting to spend time with his mother, and zayn was the only person who wasn't her.

he was walking through the garden on the side of the house, watering the roses, when he saw zayn sitting on the fence. he jumped, dropping the hose.

"i think i've said this before," zayn said dryly.

"i know," niall interrupted, rolling his eyes, though he was truly glad to see him. "i'm not very observant."

zayn just nodded, smile playing at the corners of his mouth. niall turned away so he couldn't see it. his cheeks felt oddly warm.

"i finished this," zayn continued, holding out niall's worn copy of the outsiders. "i hate you for this."

niall whipped around, water cascading over his bare feet. "why!?"

zayn was smiling at the real hurt on niall's face. "it made me cry. what the hell, niall?"

niall's face relaxed then. "oh." he giggled. "it made you cry?"

"don't you dare laugh at me," zayn said, trying to sound stern, but he was grinning, too. "it's sad, okay? i bet you freaking bawled, sobbed so hard your flower crown fell off."

niall's grin turned sheepish. "my mother had to ask me if i was okay."

zayn burst into laughter, the sound warm and full. niall was smiling as soon as he heard it; it had been a while since he'd heard genuine laughter. it made him miss liam. "do you have any others like this?"

zayn's question snapped niall out of his thoughts. "what? oh, yeah. come on." he took zayn by the hand and led him toward the house. his feet were dirty, and there was a spot of mud on his cheek, but zayn was still in awe of  how pretty he was. zayn followed niall into the house and up the steps to his bedroom.

niall's room was bare, but there were lots of vases of thriving flowers everywhere. his bookshelf was overflowing, and there were book stacks all over the floor, which niall maneuvered around easily, suggesting that they'd been there for a while. zayn was more intrigued by the trinkets niall had on his dresser: a musical jewelry box with a bunch of small stones in it, a stack of flower crowns, a book about hydrangeas, and lastly, oddly, a necklace with a locket. he was going to ask niall about it, but was distracted niall calling his name.

"here," niall smiled. he was handing zayn a book. "it's called the catcher in the rye, i was reading it last time i saw you. i haven't finished it, but it's okay, i've read it a thousand times." zayn took it, still smiling gently. "oh! here, if we're going to be friends, you've got to have one of these." he browsed through the flower crowns on his dresser, and then decided on one made of wood violets. he put it on zayn's head with a surprising gentleness. zayn found it absolutely adorable that niall had to go up on his tiptoes to do so. "now you're like me," niall giggled, and then he was bounding out of the room and down the stairs, calling behind him that he was making tea.

"now i'm like you," zayn repeated fondly. his hand went up to touch the flower crown, and then he had a beautiful thought: to be like niall was the highest compliment he could receive. to be so soft, warm, loving. to be made of sun, to be pink and pale and kind, to share with reckless abandon. to love everyone you meet -- zayn aspired to be like this. to be like niall. "now i'm like you."