Locked Up Tight (Ziam/Larry/Nosh AU)

Chapter Eight

A/N at the end.

**

**Liam POV**

Thud.

"OW SHIT!" I yell when I come face to face with the linoleum in my cell room. When I try to sit up, it takes great effort. It's as if my face is stuck to the floor like a magnet to braces.

Apparently I rolled off of the top bunk in my sleep.

After I finally pry my face off of the cold floor, I feel a great rush of blood to my head. Like when you lay down for a long time and sit up too fast, then you get dizzy. Well that's what it felt like, exept for ten times worse, because it wasn't only my head, it was the entire right side of my face.

I whisper curses under my breath as I rub my face checking for any damages. Broken nose, bleeding, broken jaw. But thanks to some miracle, there was nothing wrong (I hope) with my face.

"What are you doing, you freak?" Zayn asks, startling me so much, I nearly have a heart attack. How delightful would that be, falling off of a top bunk, then dying of a heart attack? I think I'd love that.

I move my jaw up, down, left, and right before I answer him. "I fell off of the top bunk, I'm just -" I don't finish before he cuts me off.

"I didn't really care, thank you." He interrupts.

I crane my neck to look at him. He's still laying in bed, one arm hanging off of the side, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hair is a dissheveled mess, like he used a leaf blower instead of a blow dryer, and decided not to fix it, though I knew it was only a case of bed hair.

Subconciously, I run my fingers through my hair, forgetting momentarily that I have little more hair than a buzz cut.

"Wow someone's a cranky pants." I mutter loud enough for him to hear me.

"Shutup," He says, and tries to slap my head in what I hope is a playful action. "I'm not even awake yet."

Like a subway speeding down it's tracks, I'm hit with memories from yesterday. Yesterday was probably my favorite day here so far. No arguing with Zayn... well except maybe that morning. The rest of the day was fun. Beating him in Air Hockey and Table-tennis, playing Would You Rather with the other boys. Just talking and laughing.

When he's not being a total prick, Zayn is a pretty funny guy. I bet if he showed that side of him more ofen, we wouldn't be in this predicament.

Only thing I didn't understand yesterday was why everyone got all silent when Harry asked that question. I felt a bit uncomfortable when he did. It made me feel a bit awkward.

I wonder how long we would have sat there like that if I didn't say anything.

"Well too bad," A voice calls from the hidden doorway. We hear footsteps approach, until Simon is revealed, looking just as tired as we feel. "Time to get up, be downstairs in five, unless you want Caroline coming after you." He looks down at me on the ground and raises a bushy eyebrow.

"I fell," I say, "From the top."

"You'll live." He yells as he's walking out.

I look back at Zayn, who's fast asleep already, and contemplate whether I should wake him up, or leave him. It would be funny to see his reaction to Caroline waking him up, but then he'd be mad at me, and we'd be back to square one. Undoing all the progress we'd made yesterday.

Yeah... No.

"Zayn get up." I say and slap his arm. He just lays there. I repeat it and pat his face a few times. Nothing. This time I pinch his nose, but I realize that that was dumb. He breathes through his mouth when he sleeps. My next move is one that I will regret, I lick my finger and stick it in his ear. A wet willy. Not something you want to wake up to.