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Falling in love isn't a thing that happens all at once, it happens just as the term describes, a constant falling, further and further down, with no ground beneath to hit.
And a broken heart either isn't a thing that happens all at once, it's small moments, small happenings that builds up against the breaking point, where the person can't bare it anymore.
~
Zayn watches him where he moves across the stage, watches the way his face is lit up by an inner gleam. A gleam that has his whole face shining, and his eyes to glisten. The soft plump lips, that's parted in a huge warm smile, and shows off a perfect set of white teeth, and the soft brown eyes that are sparkling in the light of the spotlights. The way the skin in the corners of his eyes crinkles when the smile grows, as if he can't believe how anyone could ever be this lucky, can't believe how the person being in this position really is him.
The way his bushy eyebrows furrows in concentration to hit each note perfectly. The way the veins in his neck gets clearly visible when he sings his heart out in each little note that leaves his beautiful lips. The way he puts down his whole soul in each one of them, to hit them all off with brilliance. The way his strong hands grip firmly around the mic in his hands, causes his whole arm to flex, showing off the strong muscles of his arm, making them clearly visible. Muscles that Zayn imagines could carry his whole weight, muscles that easily could pin him down against a rough floor, or pin him by his wrists against a wall, without much effort at all, and Zayn would happily let him.
Zayn quietly wonders how it would feel to have those strong arms wrapped around him, not in a friendly way, but the possessive way of a lover. How they would feel tightly surrounding him, until his mind, all Zayn's thoughts, was consumed by the burning light that seem to shine from every core of him.
Zayn wonders if he with those arms, could pin him down, hovering above him, keeping him in place with his lips roughly pressed against Zayn's own, if they could securely hold him against a wall, with nowhere for him to escape, nowhere that Zayn ever would want to escape.
Zayn's longing after him.
Zayn watches him when he closes his eyes, closes them to really let the feeling sink in, the feeling of the thousands of screaming fans, singing their lyrics, the same lyrics they'd worked so hard with, back to them. The feeling when they see the tears in the fans eyes, watches them faint if they meet their eyes long enough.
Zayn watches how he puts down everything he has in making everything perfect, from the way his tones, mends beautifully with the music behind, to the way he dances across the stage, singing directly towards the fans, or in the way he interact with the rest of the boys on the stage. It's how he is, wants to do everything perfect, puts down his whole self to do everything with precision.
Zayn's longing after him, longing after Liam.
Zayn's learned this by now, learned how to hit each note with grace, and still watch Liam's every step across the stage. He's learned to no longer get distracted by Liam's presence when he's about to hit one of his more difficult notes, the way he always got in the beginning, when his voice always cracked when the only thing Liam did was watching him. When the only thing that required, was one of Liam's huge smiles, for him to lose his balance, to make his voice combust into nothing at all.
Sure, it still really is hard sometimes, like now, when Liam chooses to lay a sweaty arm around his smaller shoulders, pulling him in close against his chest, and Zayn can't help himself. Can't help the way he melts into Liam's warm touch, can't help the way suddenly all his balance is held up by Liam's strong body, can't help the way he so fully trusts the slightly younger boy. And he definitely can't help that silly, happy smile who appears, and is spreading over his lips when Liam touches him, or when he just mentions Zayn's name short to the audience.
Neither can Zayn help how his next solo, the one he shares with Liam, refuses to escape right from his throat. Instead, it comes out weakly and almost cracked, not like the way he's practiced in the studio too many times for him to remember, or usually sings on stage. Nor can he help the way he shots small glances at Liam. Who has closed his eyes again, hitting each note perfectly, makes up for Zayn's sudden loss of his voice, a voice that refuses to leave his lips right.
When the solo's over, Liam smiles a wide, eye crinkling smile at him, and carefully releases his grip around Zayn's shoulders. Zayn quickly tries to regain his balance again, to stand on his own legs instead of leaning against Liam's strong frame. Tries not to let that amused smile slip onto his lips, but fails pretty badly.
Liam takes a step back, with a lingering touch on Zayn's back, a touch that causes shivers to emerge through his whole body. A small touch, and then he's gone again. Runs across the stage and starts singing towards the crowd on the other side, the reverse from where Zayn's standing.
And Zayn's back to watching him again. He's back to watch the way Liam's eyes crinkles in a beautiful laugh when Harry leans in and whispers something apparently funny in his ear, and Zayn can't help the way a pang of jealousy spreads like a cold span of water in his chest. Can't help the wish that appears in his head, that it should have been him who made that smile, a smile that's more warming than the bright sun to Zayn, spread across Liam's lips. That it should have been his own eyes that Liam's glistening ones met.
His eyes follows the way Liam does some silly dance moves on the stage, follows the way he smiles a bright smile when the fans' screams gives him response for the effort.
A drop of sweat releases itself from Liam's forehead and Zayn watches the way it glimmers like a small piece of diamond, illuminated by the spotlights. Watches the small drop making its way down the glistening skin, watches it nearing the bushy brow above Liam's left eye, getting caught in the small straws of hair growing there. Watching how the drop almost releases itself from its hold, until Liam swats it away with an irritated motion.
And Zayn finds himself wishing that he hadn't, wishing that Liam would have let that one glistening drop continue its way down to his eye. Something that would've made Liam's eyelashes flutter by the irritation maybe would've made his hand making its way towards the eye, rubbing it in an attempt to get rid of the scathing substance.
Zayn watches Liam pick up a bottle of water from the edge of the stage, watches the way he thirstily pours it's containment into his dry mouth, and Zayn can't help the way a gasp escapes his lips. Can't help the thoughts that consume him, the fact that just minutes ago, it was his own lips that were wrapped around that one bottle. The bottle with its containment of water, that Zayn himself drank from, just as thirstily as Liam now is, and let the water pour down his dry throat with, a short amount of time earlier.
He can't help but wonder if the taste from his own mouth still somehow lingers around the opening of the bottle, if Liam still somehow can notice his fingerprints from when they were wrapped around it, if Liam somehow can sense Zayn's appearance, lingering like a cloud of invisible smoke around the bottle, if Liam still can feel the warmth his fingers left behind.
Neither can he help the way he wonders how those lips, that's still wrapped around the bottle, would feel wrapped around other things-... But no, he's not going there, not a good idea to get a boner on stage now, is it. But the thought won't quite leave him alone, follows him like a lovesick dog and he curses under his breath, rubs across his forehead with his hand, in a weakly attempt to get rid of the thoughts consuming him.
He can't help himself.
He's only forced to look away when Louis carefully nudges his shoulder, gives him a worried glance like an 'are you okay?' and Zayn nods encouraging verses him, smiles a bit.
All he wants is Louis to turn his attention away from him, so he can continue his watching of Liam from afar again. Zayn needs this, needs to watch Liam's every move, every step across the stage, just like he needs the air in his lungs or the blood pumping in his veins. He needs to watch him, to know that he's right there, that he exists and that he's not going anywhere. He needs it, because without that part of himself, the one that screams 'LiamLiamLiam' on the top of its lounges, he doesn't really know who he is.
Liam's the one who keeps him grounded, makes him catch up with their hectic lives, and keeps him from going insane with all the stress management and the media throws upon them. Liam is his anchor that keeps him from floating away, his lifeboat to hold on to, and his Polestar to guide him when he's lost. Liam's the one who shows him how to enjoy this life, even though the pressure, he's the one who shows him how to even love it.
Zayn needs Liam.
Louis leaves him with a warm lingering touch on his back and an understanding gleam in his eyes. And Zayn thankfully turns his gaze against Liam again, watches the way he listens to something Niall whispers in his ear, smiling widely and barking out an eye crinkling laugh in the end. Zayn can't help the way he wishes that it was him Liam smiled that brightly against, that it was his fortune that Liam's laugh crossed his beautiful plump lips, that it was him that Liam's glittering eyes was turned upon.
And when Liam whispers something back in Niall's ear, he can't help but wish that it was him that Liam leaned forward against like that, that it would have been his ear that Liam almost had his lips pressed against, and that it would have been his ear that the heated air from Liam's mouth reached.
But Zayn doesn't mention his wishes out loud, because they are just that, wishes, that sometimes comes true, and sometimes not.
Instead, he waits until Liam's brown warm eyes meets his own, and then puts down his whole soul and heart in hitting each notes in his next solo perfect. He sings his whole heart out in the mic, eyes not leaving Liam's for a second, drags the last notes out, stretches them, and changes the tune in his voice so he can vary them as he pleases. He holds the last one until his lounges aches, and until his voice is on the verge of breaking, before he carefully shuts his mouth around them, without breaking eye contact with Liam once, singing the line directly to him.
Liam's face lit up in an eye crinkling smile, as he laughs happily against him, sees it just as the friendly gesture it usually is, something they all do every now and then to bring a smile on the others lips. Zayn blushes a bit when Liam brings his mic to his lips and shouts a "Bring it up for Zayn!" and the crowd loudly cheers.
Liam never has to know how dearly Zayn meant that serenade he dedicated Liam, never has to know how he wishes that Liam would see the love, the affection shining through each note, like sunlight through raindrops, and not the friendly gesture he took it for.
Zayn wishes, but his wishes have a tendency of never coming true.
As if to answer the gesture, Liam sings his next line directly towards Zayn, with a cheeky smile on his lips, and eyes glimmering. And Zayn feels it as his heart stops in his chest, shrinks in convulsions, but at the same time flutters like the wings of a butterfly, hammering too fast in his chest for him to cope. His breath gets caught in his throat and he desperately tries to breathe enough oxygen down his lungs to keep himself standing, to keep himself from swooning by loss of air on the stage.
He tries to remember all of those breathing techniques they'd all been taught for moments like this, when the oxygen in the air doesn't seem to be enough.
Small whimpers escapes his mouth and he starts to feel lightheaded, his vision becomes blurred in the edges and he desperately grips Louis' upper arm tightly, uses the other boy's balance to keep himself from sinking to the ground.
He searches his mind for the technique he learned for what seems ages ago, concentrates on his breaths until he starts to feel a little bit better. A bit less like he's about to fall, before he slowly allows his eyes to flutter open. His wide eyes carefully meets Liam's, who smiles brightly verses him, a smile that reaches his eyes and lits his whole face with an inner gleam. And as always, Liam puts down his whole self in the notes, sings his heart out, hits every note perfectly. Singing each one of them directly to Zayn.
But he doesn't succeed to drag the last ones out the way Zayn did, doesn't succeed to hold them quite as long, or variate them the way Zayn did. An art Zayn himself had mastered and refined, and according to himself, the only thing that makes him worthy of being in the band, makes him worthy to perform on stage, to thousands of screaming fans, with four such talented guys.
Liam doesn't release him with his gaze, even when his solo's over. Instead, he keeps Zayn caught with his eyes, a prison Zayn gladly would’ve been caught in any day, a prison where he would've stayed in forever, if only Liam would let him. Liam's eyes that lit his heart with fire with one small, searching glance, Liam's eyes that glimmers like stars, Zayn's own guiding stars, and shows Zayn the way when everything else is darkened.
And Zayn doesn't mind at all, he doesn't mind the way Liam's eyes catches his and turns him into a prisoner, doesn't mind the way he never can turn his eyes away, once they're caught by Liam's. Because that's all he ever wants, to be caught by Liam, to be held closely to the other boy, and stay with Liam forever.
The magic is broken when Liam turns his eyes away again, leaves Zayn with an awfully empty feeling clawing on the inside of his chest. Leaves him with that hollow feeling erupting in his stomach, and an empty space in his heart longing to be filled.
His eyes is still blown wide, and his breath escapes his mouth in small whimpers, and a thought in the back of his head tells him that he probably looks as pathetic like a fish out of the water, totally out of his element.
Because it was only a fun joke for Liam, a fun thing that didn't matter. It didn't mean anything for the other boy, because he saw it as a joke, a fun joke between two mates. No, not mates, that's too simple, what they have is so much deeper, best mates maybe, but even that sound weak in Zayn's ears.
Zayn would gladly accept hundreds, no thousands of these moments together with Liam, even though his heart breaks a bit more with each time, even though that for each time, he loses a bit more of himself. He would gladly accept them, because as long he get to be together with Liam, to meet his warm, smiling eyes with his own, he is happy.
His eyes searches Liam's figure once again by habit, takes in the broad shoulders, the body who has jet to quite grow into its features, the not maybe jet mature face where a bit baby fat still lingers, even though he's nearly to be called a man by now, and the brown hair that lightly curls around his face. Watches the soft cheeks who doesn't seem to be able to produce any stubble, how hard he ever tries, the soft plump lips spread into a wide grin, and the brown glistening eyes, crinkled by the force of the glowing happiness that his face shows.
Zayn watches Liam, and he's never seen anything more beautiful.