Little Angel [Zayn centric]

2.0

Sunday, 2:06am

-

"Zayn?"

He hummed that familiar tune.

"Zayn?"

"You should never cut your hair, cos I love the way..." He sang softly.

"Zayn?"

"What, Ed?" Zayn sighed, opening his eyes.

"You awake?" The ginger chuckled.

"Very."

"It's not my singing is it?" He asked quickly.

"No. Just can't sleep." Zayn said, staring at the ceiling.

"Good. They're really-"

"Maybe you were needed up there but we're still unaware, as why."

"Loud t-tonight." He finished his sentence after singing briefly.

"I can tell." Zayn said.

Ed was Zayn's slightly obsessive compulsive, forgetful, schizophrenic roommate.

The only way he could cope with the voices was singing, and writing songs.

He'd done it ever since they were in the children's ward together.

"In the walls this time." Ed said, scratching his head and sitting up.

"Bet if you slit their throats they'd shut up." Zayn said darkly.

"Mister doesn't have a throat. He's shaped like a box." Ed said.

"Ah. Mister's back." Zayn said, rolling his eyes.

That was one of Ed's many hallucinations.

Mister wasn't so bad, mainly annoying.

There was one he called Kenya that was dangerous.

Last time Ed saw Kenya he came close to popping his own eye out with a soup spoon.

There was still a mark in the corner of his eye.

"I hate these windows." Ed said, getting up and looking out of them.

"Why do they-"

"Pollution in the air matches that on the street."

"Have to have bars?" He complained.

"We've been here ten years and you've asked that question once a week." Zayn said, looking at him in what moonlight was let in through the window.

His skin was paler than the white walls around them.

"Sorry, I forget." He said, touching the glass.

"S'cold." He said softly, moving his hand.

"Oh God." He said shakily, quickly cleaning the smudge with his night shirt.

"Shut up!" He hissed, smacking his ear.

"Sing, Ed." Zayn reminded him, feeling relieved when he started singing again.

He'd really developed a nice voice over the years.

"Why can't you sleep?" Ed asked when he finished singing about fire.

"I'm angry." Zayn said, playing with the ring on the silver chain he wore around his neck.

He'd stolen the chain from one of the nurses back when he was ten.

The ring was the one his father gave him when he was little.

One of the beautiful rings he always wore on his soft hands.