Princess (Ziam)

Figure

I said this might be up yesterday, so I'm a day late. Sorry, but it's here now!

C-O-F is now the new initialism. Have fun with it. :)

Please enjoy ❤

Chapter 54:

I wrote as if my life depended on it. The words seemed to flow so effortlessly from my brain onto the page. I was thinking faster than my hand could move, jotting down abbreviations for words that took much too long to write, chasing my train of thought.

We both try to forget the past, but it lasts, stealing every single breath from between us. It's just a matter of time before the hearts collapse, but neither one of us plans to lay victim.

It was everything about the struggles both Zayn and I have been through. It was one of the easiest songs I've ever written because I truly felt every word, yet it was hard to force my hand to write them down because they were permanent thoughts upon a paper now. They were readable, analyzable, understandable.

I was in the middle of writing another verse when there was a knock on my bedroom door. "Come in," I called. I was glad that my mum and I could live normally. I never had to worry about who could possibly be banging on my door anymore. I had privacy, but I still let my mum in on everything that was important.

"Liam, Colette just called me," She said, her voice sounding sorrowful and somber. I sat up straight, setting my pen down and paying attention to what she had to inform me of.

Today was Zayn's first therapy session. We spoke until three a.m. last night about it. Zayn was clearly frightened, but he was desperate for help. He didn't want to back out of it, and I was proud of him for that. He truly was learning to open up.

"Zayn just finished his first session. It was pretty hard on him. She just thought you'd want to go over and speak with Zayn. Louis' suppose to go later on tonight. Do you want to wait until them?" She asked, and I shook my head.

Going with Louis would make the whole thing easier because I would have someone else who truly knew Zayn by my side to assist him in feeling better. I, however, wanted to have some time alone with Zayn and help him through whatever after thoughts he was probably having.

"No, I can go alone. Um, may I go now, if that's okay?" I questioned. I was desperately trying to finish this song, but it could wait a while. Besides, perhaps Zayn and/or Louis could help me with it.

"Of course. I can give you a ride if you want," She offered, leaning against the doorframe, but I politely declines the offer. I wanted to be able to clear my head from the constant worry along the way, and the only way to fully do that would be to walk with my thoughts as the only company I had. I wanted to at least try to think happy thoughts and prepare myself for any situation Zayn could possibly be in.

"Alright. Just text me on whether or not you'll be home for dinner," She requested, walking into my room and kissing me on the forehead. "Be careful on the way there, sweetheart."

It was one of my mum's fears, allowing me out of her sight. I suppose it came with the revelation of my father's abuse. She wanted to be able to constantly protect me and make sure I wasn't being wounded. We've already sat and talked about it all, and she knew that wasn't possible. I needed to be able to take my own risks at times, and I also needed to realize that I couldn't always be protected. I had to stand up for myself as well.

My mum left my room, and I made sure to grab my backpack and slip my journal and two different colored pens into the pack. One was black and the other was red. Any corrections would be made in red ink. I knew pencils would be easier, but I couldn't find a single one in my dresser. Plus, I didn't fancy the smudges the marks sometimes left on the page.