Zayn and Niall: Everybody Needs Somebody Sometimes

I'm Happy With Him

WOW WHAT'S THIS??? an UPDATE???? bet you guys didn't see that one coming :-) anyway i am deeply sorry for my long unexplained absence but i was feeling so guilty about not writing this the other day so i finally put together a lil new chapter for you! i hope you like it (and i hope you're actually all still reading because it has literally been 8 months) i love you x

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Inside the cramped hospital ward, a tornado was stirring.

Zayn could taste it in the back of his throat, damp with sawdust and about to explode. His eyes were dimmed, blankly taking in the two people at the door, like he was seeing them for the first time. The sight of Yaser and Trisha Malik looked unreal, almost as if he couldn’t believe they were actually here. 

He couldn’t recognize the emotion in his mother’s eyes.

When she finally spoke, she sounded almost neutral. “God, you’re such a big boy now.”

Zayn felt tears prick, hard, behind his eyes. Niall was sitting beside him, but his presence seemed faded, like he had become a part of the wall. Zayn’s mind could barely focus under the heavy smoke of medication.

“So, uh,” his father’s eyes flicked to the restraints and then silently moved away, “we spoke to Liam outside. He said you’d gotten into some accident?”

Zayn’s mouth felt hot with the weight of lies. He could feel them swimming around the back of his throat, waiting to be spat out.

“What happened, Zayn?” Trisha asked quietly. “No one will tell us anything.”

“Was it a car crash?” his father’s voice sounded orchestrated, except the words were falling out too fast. “I’d heard Niall had gotten into one too, earlier, those bastards driving so recklessly out here… Or was it a fight? Did you get into a fight, is that why you’re tied up?”

“No, Dad,” Zayn exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes.

“Was there a building collapse? Did you get caught under the rubble - ”

Zayn opened his eyes and lifted them like wildfire into Yaser’s gaze. “No, Dad.”

Niall tensed instantly beside him, and Zayn felt as though the blood in his veins was going cold, hardening into ice. His heart felt like there’d been an explosion inside, pieces scattering in the wrong order around his chest.

“Baby?” Trisha’s voice was soft starlight. She moved toward the bed, sweeping her palm across his forehead. Her touch was cool on his skin.

“You’ve been reading the papers, Mum,” Zayn accused, his voice quiet and calm as death. “You know.”

She faltered, her eyes growing slightly dull at his words. “Zayn, sweetheart…”

Niall was anchoring him to the bed. If he hadn’t been there, Zayn didn’t know how fast and how far he’d flee from this room, from these people, these faces. He’d keep going till his legs burned, till his lungs shriveled and wilted, till he found the edge of the world and jumped off of it. No hurricane could touch him there.

“We didn’t want it to be true,” Trisha whispered, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. They shimmered like ghosts, slipping down her cheeks. “I prayed, God, help my baby boy, keep him happy and safe… I prayed for nights and nights and I cried for you – “

“You didn’t call!” Zayn yelled suddenly, his voice catching fire and throwing flames at her. “You knew for months that I was ripping myself open and you didn’t call, or text, or give me any sign that you gave a single fuck about me!”