Take Me Home

Chapter Three

Four full years passed, and things seemed to change so gradually that nobody really noticed.

Harry grew into a tall and strapping thirteen year old, with the same emerald eyes, the same dimples when he smiled (which was unfortunately not very often, because he was one of those moody teenagers who would rarely be in a good mood), and the same scars on his arms and ribs. He hadn't even been fostered once in his entire six years of living in the group home, which meant that he was quite close with Liam and Zayn, who still visited. He was also rather close with Louis, the boy with whom he still shared a room.

Louis was now seven years old, a shy and yet sassy child who was particularly talented in sports. He could usually be found outside in the garden, kicking a football against a wall or with one of the other kids in the home - sometimes Harry if the boy cared enough to leave their room that day. Louis had been fostered once, by a younger couple when he was five years old. But things hadn't worked out and he had ended up back in his and Harry's room with Liam as his carer and Zayn as his weekly visitor after just a few weeks.

Liam and Zayn barely spoke anymore.
That was the only thing that wasn't such a gradual change. One moment they had been best friends, sharing secrets like high schoolers and hanging out together in their spare time like a couple of teenagers, and the next Liam had gotten himself a boyfriend, Michael.

And Zayn had no problem with that. He and Liam were only friends, but it Michael who held the grunge. He was controlling of Liam, and forced him to cut all ties with the doctor, which meant that they were back to awkward nods and waves in the hallways of their apartment block, as if all of the years in between had never happened.

But of course, Zayn had made promises to two certain boys years ago and he intended to keep them, and so he still visited the group home whenever he could because Louis and Harry always managed to make his day.

So that early September day, not long after the summer holidays had ended, Zayn thought nothing would be different as he walked in through the door of the group home without so much as a knock.

After all, after six whole years of visits, he didn't really have to knock. It sometimes felt like he spent more time there than he did at the hospital, and today he didn't start his shift until noon, so he had a few hours to spare.

Liam walked directly into him as he stepped into the hallway, and the lighter haired man flushed, barely looking up.

"Sorry about that, uh, the boys are up in their room," he stated stiffly, brushing a piece of dust off of his light blue t-shirt and disappearing down the hall.

Zayn watched him disappear with a sigh, wondering how on earth things could have ever gotten so awkward between the two of them when they used to be so close. It just didn't seem right.

But he didn't call his name or go after him, because he had almost grown used to how awkward things had become between them. He simply made his way up the stairs, past two young children playing with their toy cars and past a teenage boy who had just come out of the bathroom, towards the second door on the left.

He had barely tapped his knuckles against the door before it swung open, revealing an average built boy with light brown tousled hair and dark blue eyes, wearing a red football kit. He grinned happily when he saw Zayn, throwing his arms around the man.

"Zaynie!" he yelled happily, a nickname that he had been using for the past four years.

Zayn smiled and wrapped his arms back around the boy, ruffling his hair gently. Louis was very clingy to the doctor who had kept his word and visited him almost everyday since his grandparents had terminated their rights. He was a clingy boy in general, but particularly to Zayn, Liam and Harry, since they were the only three people who had stuck around and not tried to abandon him in his life.