Earn Me (Niam)

Twelve Years Earlier

For the past seventeen minutes, the only feeling that runs through Liam is nothing. Nothing at all. No happiness over the tenth gold medal he received from yet another martial arts tournament. No relief from the large and very cold water bottle he drank after he stepped off the red and blue mat. No sense of pride when he saw the motions of his father and other fathers he knew clapping his back in recognition. No sense of pride either when he saw the doting looks of adoration from his sisters, his mother and every other person in the studio. No giddiness when he entered the slightly warm car to be on his way to his favorite restaurant that the Payne family always goes to after every single one of the eleven year-old's tournaments. And that is honestly a shocker because Liam always gets exponentially excited about going to his favorite restaurant after a tournament because Niall and his family started to have a later lunch with them. And Liam and Niall always talk about whatever they want to talk about (Niall mostly about whatever book he's reading or how Liam is still gross because he's still sweaty and Liam just listening and smiling). The fact that the Mexican restaurant is the brunette's favorite - that's just an added bonus. 

Nothing at all.

And Geoff, Karen, Nicola and Ruth notice. They notice that their little boy is pouting and sulking in the backseat. And normal parents and siblings would be slightly (or even extremely) concerned that their youngest member of the family isn't acting normally, which in the case of Liam James Payne: happy, energetic, sporadic. Normal parents and siblings (well, maybe not siblings) would try to get to the bottom of situation. Normal parents (siblings would definitely not do this) would sit their child down and ask questions to try and bring a satisfactory answer so that they can help deal with whatever seems to be boring their child. Normal parents and siblings don't sit in their own seats of the car, driving down a slightly busy road smirking and giving each other side glances while being amused over the sight of a pouting prepubescent boy with a glistening forehead from sweat and his arms crossed over his huffed out chest.

"Alright, sport," Geoff calls out while looking into the mirror, immediately catching his son's chocolate brown eyes fully of fury. "Want to tell us why you haven't spoken a word?" he asks while sending the most subtle of winks to his wife. Karen, upon seeing the wink, lets out a minutely less subtle giggle. Nicola and Ruth, on the other hand, witness the transaction between their parents and in return, let out even more less than subtle giggles. But none of that seems to bother Liam. As a matter of fact, Liam doesn't even notice the wink and the giggles because of how deep he is in his own thoughts.

Who was that guy? Why was he there? Why was he with Niall? Why does Niall seem to like him more than me? Does Niall want to be my friend anymore? What if he is friends with only that guy and he doesn't want to hang out with me? What i-

"LIAM!"

The brunette is immediately pulled out of his fear-induced thoughts and questions. His brown eyes flit back and forth until he catches a glimpse of his father's eyes sparkling with some sort of mischievous emotion. Of course he doesn't notice that sparkle; Liam James Payne doesn't even know the concept of feelings and emotions showing through someone's eyes unless the eye color is crystalline blue. However, he should've known that something light and aloof is in the atmosphere of the car because his sisters are both silently giggling next to him and his mother has the fondest of looks softening her already beautiful features. But Liam is out of the heightened senses thanks to the adrenaline rush from his sparring tournament. Which means that his hearing has dulled and his peripheral vision has lost its width. So he doesn't notice the schoolgirl-like antics from his sisters and the gracious expression from his mother. Instead, he looks directly into the mirror to silently answer his father. Without noticing the mischievous glint, of course.