Ranked // ziam (boyxboy) COMPLETED

sixteen

It's five hours until the fight. 

I haven't slept. Liam has been resting; and by resting I mean tossing and turning on the few blankets that he has been allowed. I just watch, staring at the clock that is noisily ticking down the minutes. The seconds. 

The Beast had somewhat of a heart to allow Liam to be unchained. He just never unchained me. I am still up against the post. He, the Beast, continues to show his hatred for me by denying Liam and I contact with each other. 

He placed an electrical wire down in front of me, fencing me in a small area. The wire had been placed on the ground, harmless, or so it seemed; Liam scoffed. He then proceeded to walk over to me. But he was thrown backwards, moaning in pain on the floor. 

I don't know the science behind the piece of wire but Liam couldn't get pass it. He settled sadly on the perimeter, almost like a protestant watchdog. His body tenses as he rises himself up when someone enters our room to give us a loaf of bread to split. 

When we get the 'food' Liam takes one bite, then hands the rest to me. But I have refused the food the two times we were given it. I know that me taking the food would be selfish and worthless. I would just throw it up. 

Liam would then mumble a sorry and thank you as he eats the bread. With half the bread gone, he would offer again. And he offered again with a quarter of the bread left. Every time I would shake my head. 

I would just watch is beautiful and beaten figure move. His black shirt is torn in a few places, revealing skin that is stained in dried blood. There are also visible cuts along his torso through the cuts in his shirt. 

But the funny thing is, ever after all of this beating, Liam is still his gentle self with me. He is cautious but in control, as he always is. He is sweet, but stern. His eyes are flashes of concern, fear, and sorrow. 

Four hours left. 

I change position on the floor. My wrists are aching from my failed efforts of trying to break them or get loose. My ankle has swelled so much and it has gone numb from my knee down. 

"Zayn," Liam murmurs. I look up to see Liam looking at me. He is on his side, his hands pressed together under his cheek. His brown eyes are almost as if they are admiring me. 

"Save your energy for the fight, Li," I respond. My voice comes out scratchy and raspy. I haven't had any water. 

"I'm scared Zayn," Liam says. His voice is the weakest I've ever heard it to be. "I don't want to lose you, Zayn." 

"You won't. Ever," I respond. 

Three hours left.

Liam has drifted back into sleep. He is facing me. His face looks at peace; his eyebrows neutral and his mouth open a bit. I could see that under his eyelids, his eyes were moving back and forth. His skin has lost some of its colour. He looks sick, but he is at peace. 

His injuries look painful. I want to be able to treat them, to help him. I want to be able to hold him and for him to be able to hold me. I want him to smile and for us to be together without having to worry about somebody hurting either one of us. 

I sigh and lean my head back against the post I'm against. The clock ticks. I can feel a hot tear begin to roll down my cheek. I don't try to stop it. 

And all the sudden, I find myself shedding tears, silently. I close my eyes but they keep coming. Tear after tear. 

"Liam," was the only word, name, that I could say as I sob. Liam is all that I am thinking about. Liam is all that I care about right now.