Soldier

A few days have passed, and once again, I am completely alone. My birthday was spent watching a marathon of 'Friends' on the T.V. to suppress my loneliness, and accompanied by a cup of warm chamomile tea. I found the worst I got, the worst it ran it's course.

Of course, I wasn't going to get help. Getting help would mean that I know and have to admit that I am sick; sicker than a drastically-open-wounded soul. I realize something whilst celebrating this lonely occasion: I know for a fact that I do need help, but with this statement, I certainly will not be the person to go and fetch for it.

It's now a Tuesday, a whole week after celebrating such a victorious thing, and I am still feeling like complete and utter shit. I mean, who am I to just lay around and pretend everything is alright? Oh, who am I kidding? I mean, yes, I could very well do that, pretend everything is okay with Liam and I. Pretend everything is alright with my disease. But, the thing is, I can't do that. I can't move on from something that has captured my whole life, already. Now, don't get me wrong. I hate lying to him about this whole affair and such. But, he doesn't need anymore stress right now, and that, right there, is the undeniable factorization that I need to realize: I caused all of his stress. I cause it all, anyway.

I just stand up from my bed, and wade into the kitchen, opening my laptop, and forgetting about my 'morning routine'. I forgot about a while ago, after the whole dispute with Liam. I just never got up early anymore, and lately, the lack of sleep and jetlag has been hitting me like a sudden semi coming down the highway, racing toward me with full power, which is what I wish what would happen to me right about now.

My email is stocked up with random emails from websites I forgot I had accounts on, and I just delete them all. I get the feeling, since there isn't an email from Liam, that he is totally cutting all ties with me. Why am I getting so obsessed over him? Why did it always have to be like this? I was broken out of my terrible thoughts when a knock comes from the door. I walk over there, the bags under my eyes evident as I open the door. I slouch a bit, and the ache on my legs and the ache in my body makes me seem sick. I look through the peek hole, and I see Liam standing on the porch, his army gear on.

I open the door and plaster on a fake smile. "Liam." I say softly.

"Hey, can I come in?" He pushes past me anyway, and I just whisper, "Sure."

He sits down on the couch. I sit on the chair.

It's silent for at least 10 minutes, the only silence I have loved in a while. It's not uncomfortable, it's nice. It makes me feel good with myself. It makes me feel like someone again.

"Zayn, I feel like you aren't telling me something." He breaks the silence.

"What.. are you.. talking about?" I silently ask.

"You are.. different. You haven't spoken to me for a while. You hung up on me the last time we talked. You aren't telling me something." He looks at me, his tone serious. I couldn't focus, and I felt like my head was going to explode. I felt like I, myself, was going to explode in all generality.

"What do you w-want to know?" I stutter, but then re-correcting myself. I sound like a child.

"Everything. Or anything you aren't telling me." His smile is small, but reassuring.

"Oh man. Well, I told you about my mom, right? My dad, too?" I sigh.

"Yeah. You have. I need to know, Zayn. What is going on that you can't seem to tell me. Quit playing these stupid games with me and just tell me, damnit!" He stands and is yelling at me. I stand up and try to calm him down.

"Liam, calm down. It's only-"

"It's only what, Zayn? Hmm? You have been hiding out now, for what, 2 months? I can't ponder why though! Why? Why, goddamnit! Because you afraid!" He screams.

"Oh, I'm afraid! Yes, Liam, you are so fucking right! I am fucking afraid! I am afraid because for the first time in my life, I actually love someone! And you know who that is? It's you! It's fucking you, goddamnit! And the reason why I have been hiding out all this time is because I am sick! I am completely and utterly sick! Liam, you have no idea! You have no damn hint! I have cancer, and yet you have the fucking audacity to come in my home, yell at me because-" By then, I'm crying. But he stands up, I back away. He grabs my hands, leans in, and kisses me. Not a sloppy, ugly kiss. A passionate filled, sweet-romanticized kiss. I kiss him back, and the movement of our lips on each other is like a fairy tale kiss, only a bit better.

He backs away and looks at me, cupping my cheeks.

"For what it's worth, Zayn, I love you. And I spend the rest of my days trying to take as best care of you as possible. You're safe now, with me and with me alone." He smiles and kisses my nose.

'You're safe now, with me and with me alone.' I repeat it.

I realize this much.

Liam Payne is mine, and mine alone.

Notes

I won't be updating for a while, so enjoy this! I hope this was a good chapter. Eh. Love you all. Enjoy your winter break! xx.