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Zayn's so lost in his own head, so wrapped up in the idea that Liam might not ever wake up -- it's been three long days of deafening silence in a cold, clinical room where the beep of the heart monitor does nothing but make one want to tear their own hair out -- when a sound breaks through the noise in his head. When he looks up, it's to find Louis crying.
Louis shrugs at him, scrubbing his hand over his face. "It's just--" He has to clear his throat before going on. "It's just that I haven't seen him in nearly three years, and that last time was--" A muscle works in his jaw. "We argued. Over stupid shit, of course."
There's something in Louis's eyes that tells Zayn that's not quite the truth. The way Louis glances at Liam, who's much too still, lets Zayn know that it's definitely not the full story. Louis bites his lip and Zayn pulls back on the urge to reach over the bed to make him stop. "All I want to do now is tell him he was right."
He looks at Zayn for another moment, something shifting in his eyes before he turns his attention back to Liam. Watching but not touching; he's not been any closer than the seat on the other side of the hospital bed the entire time, hands in his lap like he's not allowed to reach out, to make sure that Liam's real and there. Zayn thinks he'd have gone mad by now if he wasn't able to curl his fingers through Liam's.
"Probably doesn't need to hear it now anyway," Louis adds, voice soft. The corner of his mouth curls in a tiny, sad smile.
It makes Zayn thinks about the look Liam would get in his eyes sometimes, when Zayn would ask about life at uni, life before he moved to London. He remembers the casual shrug of a shoulder, the smile that wasn't ever quite a smile. The way he'd say Just uni, yeah? Like yours, probably, and that was that. He'd distract Zayn well enough that Zayn would forget to push, to see the reason for all that nonchalance.
Seeing the same look, the same gestures from the young man across from him, Zayn thinks he finally knows.
"I dunno," he says. Louis glances over at him again. "I think he still needs to hear it." Zayn offers a tentative smile. "I think he'd like that actually. Like it a lot, in fact. Might even love to hear it."
Louis is staring at Zayn now, then drops his gaze to where Zayn's fingers are entangled with Liam's. When he looks back up, there's confusion in his eyes.
It's Zayn's turn to shrug now. Liam's taught him a lot about sharing in the last few year or so; Zayn thinks he's gotten fairly good at it. They'll be time to make Louis understand that. "You should hold his hand," Zayn tells him instead of answering the question on Louis's face. "It's one of his favorite things, holding hands."
There's a bit of disbelief, more of trepidation, but most of hope in the look that steals over Louis's face. After a moment he does as Zayn's told him. Louis's fingers are smaller than both Liam and Zayn's, a touch of gold against the harsh whiteness of the sheets.
Their hands look good together, Zayn decides. They look right.
The sound of the heartbeat monitor breaks the silence, a little less bleak this time. Zayn curls his own fingers tighter around Liam's and doesn't look away from Louis.