Chapter Twelve

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He wakes up to the sound of someone singing. At first, he thinks it's a dream. Then he chalks it up to Louis breaking into his apartment to watch X Factor reruns again. It isn't until he rubs at his eyes and blinks them open that he realizes he's wrong. Because he's not in his flat. He's in a tiny bed that smells like not him and there's a small, curtain covered window that is so definitely not the floor to ceiling window in his own room.

The singing gets louder for a moment, and he realizes that he recognizes both the voice and the song. "I'll be there in the morning if you just stay with me tonight," he hears Liam sing, and he hesitantly sits up, trying not to make any noise.

The smell of coffee is heavy in the air, bitter richness mingling with Liam's pleasant, surprisingly talented voice. He's a little off-key, but Zayn can't hear any music so he figures Liam's got headphones in, and that happens to the best of singers when they can't hear themselves. It still sounds nice. Really nice.

With a soft smile on his face, Zayn crawls out of the bed and steps towards the door. He opens it as quietly as he can, trying not to alert Liam to the fact that he's up, just yet.

Liam's in the kitchen (though all he'd have to do is move back another step or two to bed in the living room), pushing things around in a frying pan with a wooden spoon. Just as suspected, he's got headphones in, and he doesn't notice at all that Zayn's leaning against the doorway between the hallway and the living room, just watching him (which is probably creepy, he realizes, but he can't stop himself). There's coffee brewing in the pot, whatever he's cooking smells great, and Zayn feels - perfect, in this moment. One of the greatest mornings he's had in years, weirdly enough, and he's having it in a shitty little apartment in one of the more rundown areas of town with Liam Payne.

He's not sure what he does that gets Liam's attention, but one minute he's singing the chorus of Zayn's second single, a slight sway in his hips as he cooks, and the next he's turning, eyes widening, and then he's pulling his headphones out and flushing a deep, kind of adorable red from the tips of his hears down to his neck. "You're awake," he says, a high-pitched quality to his voice.

Zayn fakes a yawn, covering his mouth to hide his smile. "Barely, but yeah," he says while pushing away from the wall. "Nice taste in music, by the way."

Liam, if possible, looks even more embarrassed. "It came on shuffle," he explains. "I didn't think you'd be up for a while. I'm an early riser."

Zayn wants to tease him a bit, almost can't resist, but he has a feeling that it'll come out sounding more flirty than he means it to, so he doesn't. "You're burning breakfast, by the way."

"Shit." Liam turns back to the pan, waving a hand to get rid of the smoke. "Fuck. How do you burn eggs? I didn't even realize that was possible."

Zayn makes his way back through Liam's apartment, feeling weirdly comfortable, even if this is his first time being here. He grabs his phone from the room and holds it to his ear on the way back into the living room, already waiting while it rings. He may have, like, four take-away places on speed dial. Possibly.

Liam moves the pan to one of the burners that aren't on and leans against the small counter while Zayn put in an order. He covers the receiver, asks Liam for the address, and Liam demands, "What are you doing?"

"Ordering breakfast, obviously," he answers. "Least I can do, after you let me crash here last night and slept on the sofa. Now address, Liam." Liam looks a bit annoyed as he lists it off, but Zayn ignores him as he repeats it to the woman on the phone. "Alright, thank you."

"You didn't have to do that," Liam says when Zayn hangs up. "I could have made us something else."

"I don't mind."

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