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Ziall - Midnight Show

It’s quiet and dark and Niall has no idea why he’s suddenly awake. He’s been battling with jetlag nearly the whole time he’s been here and it’s warmer tonight, sheets kicked down around his ankles but up until a moment ago he had been dead asleep.

He blinks groggily, rolling onto his back to listen properly and blink through the black.

There’s a faint knock beyond his door, a tapping that sounds more like fidgeting than the tick of the clock or the hum of the fridge.

It’s ridiculous but Niall’s heart is beating too fast and he curls his fingers around his duvet, the other groping for his phone under his pillow even though he doesn’t know who he’ll phone if it’s trouble, the only other person he knows in Australia is in the house with him, fast asleep somewhere upstairs.

It doesn’t make sense in his head but he rolls out of bed anyway, feet sticking to the wooden floor in the heat of the night and he edges his way around the bed and his suitcases that are still strewn across the floor as he makes his way to the floor. The guestroom of Deo’s house is on the ground floor and he needs to make his way all the way through the living room and kitchen to get to the stairs anyway so he slips into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking loudly in the silent and the fridge humming and churning away in the dark. There’s a scrape of metal somewhere else, like claws against brick and Niall panics, heart beating fast and a floor of adrenaline.

Niall’s knees lock together and he squints through the night, frozen in the doorway as he watches over the top of the sofa in the living room the dark shadow at the front door. It’s just a pane of glass and there’s a streetlight on in the distance which surrounds them in a yellowy orange halo that makes the silhouette all the more ominous.

The person pauses, looking up even though Niall can’t make out who it is or what they’re doing and Niall knows he’s been caught. He stands there, staring with him mouth half open, heart thumping in his throat as the person goes back to fiddling with the door handle. This is it, this is how he’s going to die. Murdered by a stranger in the night before he’s even made it to his twentieth year.

Panic claws up his throat as it finally clicks open, loud even all the way at the other end of the room and Niall’s toes curl into the wooden floor, taking root there and not allowing him to move.

“Move,“ he whispers to himself but his feet won’t follow orders and he stands, terrified as the door slides open.

“That door is a bit of a nightmare,“ the person comments and the voice is so casual and familiar that it jars in Niall‘s brain for a moment.

Niall finally unfreezes, unfurling an arm and batting at the switch on the wall until the light in the ceiling flickers on. It’s suddenly too bright and Niall squints, heart picking up as the person walks on into the room and drops his bag. Niall blinks, squinting until everything is a bright blur in front of him.

“Wha-” Niall cries out as the figure looms closer to him.

“Coulda helped me there,” he continues even though it’s tired from travelling and croaky from a day’s worth of air conditioning, Niall could tell the voice anywhere.

“Zayn?” he asks and his eyes finally adjust to the light and he can see him, hood up over his flop of a fringe and jacket pulled over on top of that. “What’re you doing here?”

Niall doesn’t really understand. He’s half asleep, half terrified and Zayn shouldn’t be here, he should be in London and not standing in Niall’s cousin’s apartment half way around the world.

“Thought you’d be asleep,” Zayn shrugs and stands up tall. He kicks out of his shoes in the doorway and slides the door shut again, messing with the handle and Niall realises that he’s had a key all along and is just forgetting to pull the handle up towards himself. His feet finally unstick from the floor and he’s across the ratty rug in the middle of the room, fingers skittering over Zayn’s cool ones so he can do it for him.