Even ran his fingers through Isak’s hair, fighting to keep
his expression neutral so as not to upset his boyfriend even further.
“I’m okay,” Isak mumbled, his own fingers fidgeting with the
hem of his t-shirt. He was beneath the blankets on their bed, eyes puffy and
still wet with tears. Even had crawled in beside him, but hadn’t said anything.
Isak wiped at his nose and then wiped his hand on his shirt.
“That’s gross,” Even observed quietly, and Isak snorted, his
lips quirking at the corners.
“Don’t make me laugh, I’m sad,” Isak told him, forcing his mouth into a frown.
You were sitting in your room, listening to some music while trying to study for your math exam next week. As the door slammed open and you twitched by the sudden movement and it nearly gave you an heart attack.
“Damn it, Erik!” You almost screamed at your one year older step-brother and he looked kind of shocked.
“I’m sorry… What are you up to?” He asked, still standing over by the door.
“Studying” you sighed and turned your focus back into the math book, low key wishing he would leave.
(I saw one of these and I wasn’t feeling it so having lived my whole life in NJ I’ll give it a shot)
The new shopping center is already covered in dead seagulls. You enter one of the three Targets because you need a new notebook. The last one became dust in your hands. The checkout clerk communicates with you in only grunts. At least it’s not Walmart.
You order pancakes at the diner. It is 6pm but the only thing on the menu is pancakes. The waitress is so nice but she never looks at you. When you look away you feel like you are being watched but when you glance over she is gone. Your pancakes taste like salt and ash. You pay at the front desk.
It’s the weekend and you need to get to New York City. You knock three times at the door to the train station to gain entrance but all of the trains are gone. The man at the ticket window opens his mouth and flies spill out. The flies don’t know when the train will come either.
At the beach the water is as black as the void. The surviving seagulls from the new shopping center build nests of human bones and french fries in the sand. The governor has promised to clean it up but they are too strong now.
Your boyfriend visits but he doesn’t speak the language. You translate the moans of the clerk at CVS but he cannot understand. “Everyone is so rude here!” he says when he leaves. He never finds his way home.
Yesterday you heard your neighbor practicing witchcraft. It is so loud and you can’t sleep. The next day, his house has grown three stories and is right against your fence. The siding is sticky like black tar. Your father hates these new McMansions.
Your music teacher wants you to call him Vinnie T. The notes of your sheet of music keep moving but you know how to play the same funeral march as the other band members. Vinnie T conducts you with a dead sparrow impaled on a stick. The sparrow is also named Vinnie T.
The Giants are playing at The Stadium. Its name is unspeakable and the surrounding swamps are buzzing. The only being watching the game is the New Jersey Devil. He chants with the music over the loudspeakers and the players drop dead on the field. But he’s really more of a Jets fan anyway.
Everyone works in New York City. They live here but they are never here. You ask your father about work and he stares through you. Your mother cooks seagull for dinner. They shriek in unison through the night until the City calls them back.
Your GPS leads you to the turnpike. You get off at your exit. Your GPS leads you to the turnpike. You get off at your exit. Your GPS leads you to the turnpike. You get off at your exit. You can still hear the screeching cars from your house.
You know where Jimmy Hoffa is but you cannot say. People keep asking but your mouth fills with sawdust when you answer. He visits you each night and whispers dark secrets into your ears. Blood is still leaking from his eyes and in the morning you cannot remember what he said.
No one ever leaves your town. The PTA has been the same people for the last 300 years. Your mother says you can never move away. There are tears in her eyes. No one ever leaves your town.
To cross the dividers on the main street you must learn to use the jughandles. Every jughandle is guarded by a different demon and you must learn their rules to enter. If you break the rules you will be taken. Crosses and flowers litter the side of the road. We lose one every day.
You go to Hoboken when you die. It’s not as bad as you thought.
I remember the first time you leant in to help me,
We were eighteen and I had asked for help in math,
You smelled like Christmas trees and after shave.
The first time you kissed me,
You tasted like peppermint.
I should have known the mints you had been eating all night,
Were just a part of your plan to whisk me away.
The first time we went on a weekend adventure,
You tasted like salt.
A welcome reminder of the ocean bigger than we would ever be,
But just as big as we wanted us to be.
The first time you told me you loved me,
You felt like a blanket wrapping me tight,
The first comfort of winter chill.
The first time I woke up next to you,
You tasted like honey.
Just like the night before.
The first time you met my parents,
You smelled like cologne,
Like the shirts that I slept in,
Like the sheets where we’d lay.
It was a kind of secret I got to keep,
As my father shook your hand.
The first time we fought,
You smelled like alcohol.
I was never able to taste you,
Since the words hit me, before your lips could.
The first time we made up,
You tasted like salt,
But this time not because of the beach,
But the ocean of tears and regret in your eyes.
The first time we moved in together,
You felt like home.
Not the apartment that we collaged our furniture together in,
Laughing as we made a fort out of the boxes.
But you, simple you, with your arms around me.
The first time we talked about marriage,
Your smelled like roses.
It was our anniversary, and they were my gift.
Your eyes lit up, and so did mine.
The last time I saw you,
You tasted like her.
What a shame, that now, all I can taste,
And the memories that haunt every thing that I do.
“We’re buzzing like that no vacancy sign out front Your skin is begging to be kissed by a little more than the sun You take my hand in yours, you lean in And your lips taste like sangria, your lips taste like sangria”
You know how people describe “good” seafood as not tasting “fishy”? Or “good” hunted animal as not tasting “gamey”? Or like last weekend when my family went to an Indian restaurant for my birthday and my mom ordered lamb something or another and she and my stepdad thought it tasted delicious because it didn’t taste like lamb, but really subtle meat (whatever that means). Why the hell would you eat a dead animal carcass if you didn’t want it to taste like dead animal carcass? If you describe a “good” dead animal as not tasting like said dead animal, then why are you eating the fucking animal??
The sun is still hot, traces of glowing beams crawling over Liam’s arms and warming his skin beneath the subtle chill of a breeze.
He can hear Louis and Harry bickering as they attempt to put the tent up, their voices muffled by the whistle of wind filtering through the array of trees behind. Liam squints as he looks over the view; beyond the hill they decided to pitch their tent at. He watches trickles of light seeping between clusters of clouds, pouring over the tiny houses of a town placed between the hills.
His best memories are confined within the bricked walls of those houses, others in the cobbled streets where the five of them would play when they were younger.
So much has changed since then; five lads tangled together in this wired bond but separated — scattered in various cities with different lives.
Liam utters a sigh under his breath, tipping his bottle of cider to his lips. The sweet taste reminds him of summer — of times like this; of now. Chilled weekends spent on a hillside, music blaring and laughter filling the content silence away from the business of the chaotic town.
He misses it; misses his boys and the memories they’ve made together, even though they’re always tucked away at the back of his mind; stored in a box that Liam often opens with the need to escape to the past.
“Y’ okay, babe?”
Zayn’s concerned voice breaks him from his distant thoughts, a shoulder knocking against his.
Zayn settles beside him, his bottom lip taken between his teeth as he looks questioningly at Liam.
No. Liam wants to tell him; to let every thought racing through his mind spill from his lips and vent to his best mate, to tell him he broke up with Sophia only two days ago. That he kind of wants to cry, because he just ended a two and a half year relationship, and because seeing the warmth of Zayn’s eyes triggered a million feelings all at once. He wants to tell Zayn that he isn’t okay — and that the only way he would be is if he felt familiar lips on his, if he could tangle his fingers in Zayn’s hair and feel soft fingertips tracing every vertebrae of his spine like he used to.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, instead — nodding as he diverts his eyes away from Zayn’s. “Fine, just a bit knackered from the journey.”
He smiles weakly, gripping the bottle until he notices his knuckles paling.
“You’re not fine,” Zayn says softly, shifting slightly closer to Liam as he kneels in the thick grass beneath them.
Liam frowns, lips parted to speak before Zayn interrupts him.
“I know something is going on,” he whispers, a cautious smile tracing his lips. “I also know that you don’t want to tell me, but. If you want to talk about it, I’m here — okay?”
Liam exhales a shaky breath, wrinkles sliced over his forehead as he furrows his brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking —”
Zayn sighs, shaking his head as he leans his head onto Liam’s shoulder with a knowing smile.
“You never were good at lying, Leeyum.”
“You can’t lie for shit,” Zayn grins, cornering Liam against the wall.
He bites over his lip, snaking arms around Liam’s neck as he brushes a soft kiss over parted lips.
“What’s going on?”
Liam shrugs, shaking his head.
“Nothing, Zayn. Nothing is going –”
Zayn kisses him again, smirking when he pulls away.
“Stop lying to me,” he whines, tugging at several strands of hair at the back of Liam’s head. “I’ve known you since we were four, Li. That’s long enough to figure out when you’re lying.”
Liam sighs, eyeing the questioning look filtered through soft eyes staring at his. His fingers trace Zayn’s hips through his t-shirt, lips sweeping a sulky breath over Zayn’s.
“I, um. I got accepted into Southampton,” he says quietly, stroking gentle touches over Zayn’s waist. “An unconditional offer, babe. They don’t care what grades I get.”
Zayn’s grin widens, a firm kiss pressed over Liam’s mouth as he looks up with fond eyes.
“That’s insane, Liam. Amazing, babe,” he babbles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why aren’t you happy about this?”
Liam nudges his nose against Zayn’s, smiling slightly.
“I am happy,” he says softly, arms wrapping around Zayn’s waist so that he can hold his smaller frame more firmly against his. “Southampton was my first choice, Zaynie. I want to go there so badly — but. Well. You’re going to Newcastle, babe. That means we’re going to universities at opposite ends of the country.”
Liam takes another swig of cider, humming under his breath.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay,” Zayn says with a shrug, fiddling with a cluster of daisies planted in the grass. “Just want you to know that I’m here if you decide you do want to.”
“I know,” Liam whispers.
You’re always here he wants to say.
He sucks in a sharp breath as Zayn threads his fingers through Liam’s, a gentle hand squeezing against his palm comfortingly. He swallows, eyes blinking shut at the familiar way Zayn traces Liam’s knuckles with the pad of his thumb – how he silently notices the bloody marks scarring Liam’s skin from where he threw several punches at his kitchen cabinet two nights ago.
A frown slices through Zayn’s expression, but he doesn’t comment.
Liam has always been grateful that Zayn doesn’t push.
“I’ve missed you,” Zayn whispers moments later, breathing a sigh into Liam’s neck. “All of you, f’ course – but. You in particular, Leeyum.”
Liam leans his head against Zayn’s temple, biting painfully hard onto the soft flesh of his bottom lip as he looks out over the view. He wonders if it’s normal for exes to be this close; for it to be okay that they hold hands and leave delicate kisses to each other’s foreheads and cheeks.
He tastes blood on his tongue as he realises that one affectionate gesture from Zayn holds more meaning than any of those did from Sophia.
“Me too,” he whispers, exhaling shakily. “Missed you, babe.”
It’s suddenly silent – and for a moment Liam wonders if Zayn can hear the fluttery increase of his heartbeat. He feels his pulse quicken by merely looking into caramel eyes, by watching the way Zayn cards long fingers through his dark hair.
He feels a little sick – something dangerous pooling in his stomach at the emotion scolding his mind.
Less than half an hour with this boy and he’s already feeling everything he did four years ago.
“C’mon,” Zayn tells him abruptly, standing to his feet and pulling Liam up with him. “I know you can stop Lou and Harry’s arguing by putting that tent up in five minutes.”
He feels safe here; with the five of them cosied around a fire pit and laughing with one another like they’ve never been apart.
Thick flames engulf the tepee of wood they put together; flickering whispers of flames hissing to one another as they paint a warm glow. Liam watches billows of smoke swallow the air and rise against the veil of darkness hanging over them, wispy clouds creating brief shadows over the millions of stars shimmering against a silky sky.
Liam should probably be focusing on the glittering constellation of stars hanging above them, but he can’t seem to peel his eyes from Zayn’s face. The pinch of his brow as he frowns, the smile fading over his lips when Liam brushes fingers through his hair.
“I don’t want things to change between us,” Zayn whispers as they lie beside one another, Zayn’s head lying over Liam’s chest.
It’s almost silent – the moment perfect as they lie beneath an oxford sky.
“What do you mean?” Liam asks, voice soft as he listens to Zayn sigh into his t-shirt.
He mumbles a kiss over Zayn’s temple, shivering into the cold.
“When we go to uni,” Zayn says quietly, voice almost inaudible as he strains his neck to look up at Liam.
Their lips are barely touching, Zayn’s eyes glittering amongst the flames flickering a warm fire beside the two of them.
“I’ve been around our sisters long enough to realise that it doesn’t work out,” he mutters, chewing over the soft flesh of his bottom lip. “Being apart puts strain on relationships, and — I don’t want things to change between us, Leeyum. I don’t want us to grow apart, or end up breaking up and then hating each other — y’ know?”
Liam stays quiet, swallowing the twisted nerves cradling his throat. He feels sick; the thought of being far from Zayn crawling anxiety over every bone in his body, and the thought of the two of them splitting up far worse.
“So, when we go to university…we just —?”
“Yeah,” Zayn breathes, and Liam just about chokes on the oxygen trapped in his throat. “I mean, it’s for the best — right? We just, we stay as friends?”
Liam finally drags his trail of vision to the starry night settled above them. His chest is tight, all energy drained from his body.
“I guess,” Liam whispers, clamping his lips together before he can whimper.
Zayn presses up onto an elbow, cupping Liam’s cheek with cold fingers.
“It’s not that I want to do this,” he says, voice scratchy.
Liam knows the sound and doesn’t dare look back at Zayn; unable to deal with the tears most likely brimming over his waterline and clinging to his lashes.
“I just. It’s — I love you so fucking much, Li. And, it would break me if something happened and we ended up not speaking. Or, never seeing each other again.”
Liam nods, exhaling a shaky sigh at the thickness of Zayn’s voice.
“Yeah,” he whispers, suddenly cold as they lie in the forest clearing.
Zayn leans in, spilling a needy kiss over Liam’s lips.
He feels broken; the thought of spending any time away from Zayn slicing pain through his insides. Liam can taste Zayn’s tears upon his tongue, salty whispers that leave Liam feeling so alone.
Zayn hums, his thumb sweeping over Liam’s cheekbone as he tangles their legs together beneath the blanket draped over their bodies.
“I love you,” Liam says softly, refusing a sob to catch at his tongue as he kisses over Zayn’s lips.
He’s never been one to show emotion; the thought of somebody watching him unravel every feeling trapped inside the chaotic canvas of his mind a scary thought that he isn’t willing to encounter.
“I love you, too,” Zayn whispers into a kiss that he brushes over Liam’s jaw, nudging his tear-stained face into the crook of Liam’s neck.
Liam’s eyes flutter shut, every part of him aching with the realisation that Zayn just ended things between the two of them.
Liam stares into the bottom of his empty bottle as he realises how much has changed since then, since they shared secret kisses beneath the duvet late at night — and since Zayn was in love with him.
He can hardly look at Zayn across the fire pit, unable to stop the stutter of his heart whenever Zayn sputters a giggle into his palm at something Louis says.
He engulfs his mind in watching the glowing embers of ashes twisting into the air; the way the breeze carries them and scatters them in the distance.
The drunken thoughts poured through Liam’s mind symbolises the ashes as the five of them; strong when a fierce amber but fading as they trickle apart and escape to new places.
(Or perhaps that’s just him and Zayn — once together and now separated).
“D’ you realise you’re the only one tied down as of now, Payno?” Louis says across the pit, the flames highlighting the grin outlining his lips. “We’re all single apart from you, mate.”
Liam forces a smile over his expression, placing the bottle at his feet as he feels a dizzy blur of emotions tangle with his thoughts.
He can feel Zayn’s eyes on him, a gentle brown burning into his skin as he concentrates on the soft cackle of a laugh from Niall.
“That’s, um. I —” he whispers, clearing his throat. “That’s not, we’re not — I broke it off with Soph.”
He feels the relief sweep through him as the words hurriedly leave his lips, a weight lifted from his chest as he finally tells somebody.
It returns as soon as he snatches a glance at the concerned frown creasing Zayn’s flawless skin.
Everything goes a little blurry, Liam’s ears ringing through the cautious ‘Liam’ that Harry murmurs from beside him.
He stands, ignoring the heaviness behind his eyes as he tugs at the blanket around his shoulders.
“I want to — I urm, I need to be alone for a little bit.”
A branch snaps and Liam’s eyes flicker to the shadowy figure approaching in the darkness.
He knows it’s Zayn from the silence. The caution radiating from Zayn’s body is deafening as he sits on beside Liam on the broken log Liam is slumped on.
Zayn edges closer, his fingers pressing into Liam’s thigh as he leans his head onto Liam’s shaking shoulders.
“Do you really want to be alone?”
Liam shrugs, shoulders slouching as he traces over the lines marked into the palms of his hands.
Zayn slides his fingers over Liam’s, entwining them with a tight grip.
“Are you okay, babe?”
Liam bites harshly onto his bottom lip, drawing blood as Zayn squeezes his hand.
He’s tongue tied over three words; cursed as he feels Zayn’s hair brush over his neck, soothing fingertips tracing the dried blood coating his knuckles.
“Not really,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut.
Not since you left to go university four years ago and my whole world shattered.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know,” Liam admits, sighing.
“You really loved her, huh?” Zayn asks softly,
No Liam wants to shout, or maybe scream; to portray every emotion blaring at the loudest volume in his mind.
But he wants to cry, to sob into Zayn’s neck and be held by strong arms that used to make him feel so safe.
The guilt is too much — writhed into every tiny corner of his thoughts. It’s almost overwhelming, to know that he spent over two years with a girl he never really loved. Two and a half years of Sophia’s life that he wasted; because eventually Zayn stumbled back into his head and he realised that it was him that captured his heart all this time.
“It’s complicated,” Liam whispers. “I don't… I can’t —”
His voice cracks; every word thick and crumpled as several tears fall over his flushed cheeks. He reaches to brush them away, flustered as he turns his head from Zayn.
“Hey,” Zayn says under his breath, his tone so soft and gentle that it makes Liam cry harder.
He hushes him with delicate whispers, both arms wrapped around Liam’s broad frame.
It’s somehow so familiar, as if the past four years haven’t existed. He feels eighteen again; young and vulnerable and in love with this shy boy with a bright smile and warm, trusting eyes.
“I don’t know if I ever really loved her,” Liam whimpers, choking on a wrecked breath.
Zayn carefully pulls him into his chest, stroking over Liam’s hair as he guides his head into his lap. Liam sobs into Zayn’s thigh, sniffling as he feels comforting fingers over his scalp.
“I think I loved the idea of being with someone, you know? Soph was there, and. She was the best person I’d met in a long time.”
Zayn keeps quiet like he does when he’s listening. Liam smiles slightly — he’s always loved the way Zayn is so willing to listen, and how he never interrupts.
“And I, um. I’m in love with someone else.”
Zayn’s movements stop for a brief moment in surprise, before he’s tickling soft fingertips behind Liam’s ears and through his thick hair once again.
“Have you ever told anyone any of this?” He asks quietly.
Liam shakes his head in Zayn’s lap, swallowing.
“Li,” Zayn whispers, his voice disapproving. “You should’ve told me, babe. You know I’m always here.”
Zayn uses the palms of his hands to tilt Liam’s face so that he’s looking up at him.
“You can tell me anything and everything,” he says softly as he sweeps a thumb along the blush scattered beneath Liam’s cheekbones. “I’ve known you since we were four, Liam.”
“I just, I can’t tell you, babe. Because I love…well, it’s you, Zayn —”
Liam blames the alcohol for the words spilling from his lips.
His eyes widen as he realises what he’s said, and he’s suddenly very grateful for the darkness of the forest so that Zayn can’t see the blush streaking his skin. He pushes up from Zayn’s lap, ready to run — but Zayn’s fingers wrap around his wrist before he can go anywhere.
“What?” He asks, breathless as he looks at Liam.
Liam can just about make out the glisten of Zayn’s eyes from the moonlight filtering through the branches and flickering over Zayn’s skin in glittering shadows.
He wants to blurt a lie, to say that he’s joking — but it’s Zayn. He’d see right through him.
(There’s also this tiny flicker of hope in the corner of his mind, a part of him hoping that Zayn will feel the same way back; even after all these years).
“I just, it didn’t stop when we went our separate ways to university,” Liam whispers.
He’s grateful that Zayn doesn’t pull away, that his fingers don’t leave Liam’s skin.
“The first six months were the worst,” he continues to explain, eyes downcast despite the darkness faded over the two of them. “I saw you in everyone I met, and I hoped that you’d call and tell me to forget everything you said — that when we saw each other between terms I could kiss you and hold your hand. But you never did.”
He pauses, waiting for some kind of response — but Zayn just sits there, gripping Liam’s wrist as he listens.
“I don’t blame you,” Liam whispers. “I love that we’re friends now, instead of fighting because of some silly break up, but. I never really stopped loving you.”
Zayn is still silent, head cocked to one side — and Liam hates that he can’t make out the expression painted to his face.
“I met Sophia and she was so lovely, and she was what I needed. We started dating and it was easy to forget when I was with her. The feelings almost went away, for years, Zayn – but then you called me on New Years and I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you instead of her at midnight. And then I realised that I don’t love her, Zayn. Whether we’re together or apart…even after two years of being with Sophia, and four years since we split; it’s still you.”
He licks over his lips, heart rapid in his chest as he blinks into the darkness.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, biting onto the inside of his lip. “I’ve probably just ruined this friendship that you purposefully created, and I. If you want me to grab my bags and go I totally understand —”
Liam cuts himself off when Zayn shoves at his shoulders, almost pushing him off of the log they’re still sitting on.
“You hate me, right? I’ve totally just ruined —”
“Yes, I hate you,” Zayn tells him blankly.
Liam almost chokes on his breath, everything cold as he hiccups a sob.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Zayn demands, exhaling sharply. “You…Why are you only telling me this now?”
“What?” Liam asks, confusion swept over his expression as he frowns. “You know why I —”
“I thought you were happy with Sophia,” Zayn says quietly, his voice questioning.
Liam can’t decide whether he’s angry anymore; the sudden deflation of his tone complicating his thoughts.
“I thought, Liam. I thought you were happy with Sophia,” Zayn repeats, his voice louder than before.
“No, I —”
Liam is cut off by Zayn’s lips on his, a hand cradling his cheek as Zayn closes the distance between them.
His mouth is so soft, his breath warm as he spills soft kisses over Liam’s bottom lip.
It takes everything in Liam to pull away, brows furrowed as he blinks at Zayn in the darkness hanging over them.
“What are you —”
“I was going to call you,” Zayn abruptly says, his other hand crawling to Liam’s cheek so that he’s holding Liam’s face in both palms. “Beginning of the second year, after we’d spent our summer together. I was going to call you a couple of months into that first term, to tell you that I was stupid; that all I wanted was to kiss you, and all I could think about was making you smile so I could see those cute crinkles appear around your eyes. It made me regret it; from the start I wanted to tell you that we should try — to take back everything I said and try to make things work, because I missed you so fucking much.”
Liam feels as if his heart stops, his words caught in his throat as he nudges closer to Zayn.
“What happened?” He whispers, breathing stuttered as he feels Zayn’s lips brush over his as he talks. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I saw Louis after he came and visited you around Christmas time,” Zayn explains softly, sighing. “He told me you were seeing a girl — Sophia, and that you seemed happy. Said he hadn’t seen you so happy in a long time.”
Liam winces, covering Zayn’s hands with his.
“So you… you feel the same way?” He asks, a smile turning up the corners of his lips as Zayn bows his head to kiss Liam.
Zayn nods as he breathes a sigh over Liam’s lips.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice soft. “I still love you, Liam. Always have, babe.”
A whine spills as he kisses Zayn, arms tangling around Zayn’s neck as he holds him close.
“I never thought I’d hear you say that again,” he says quietly, a grin spreading over his lips. “I love you so much, Zayn. Ever since you asked me if I could kiss you because you were scared you’d be rubbish.”
Zayn moans through a giggle, his fingers dragging through Liam’s hair as he pulls him impossibly closer.
“You just had to bring that up,” he whispers with a smile, nudging his nose against Liam’s.
“Best kiss I ever had,” Liam admits softly, grinning uncontrollably as Zayn moves closer — practically in Liam’s lap.
He takes a moment to appreciate the way Zayn’s skin feels against his; how incredible it feels to hold Zayn in his arms, and how soft Zayn’s lips are over his.
He guiltily realises that Sophia never fit like this; that she never sparked electricity over Liam’s skin, or caressed Liam’s skin like he’s breakable.
“What does this mean for us?” He wonders aloud, gripping Zayn’s hips with gentle hands. “Does this mean…what do we —?”
“Liam,” Zayn cuts him off softly, thumbs stroking over Liam’s cheeks as he rests their foreheads together.
“Just kiss me, babe. So we can start it all over again.”
Ok but what if William wanted to dress up as a ghost for Halloween and went and grabbed a white sheet and Mulder walks into his room and William is like “Look dad! I’m spooky!” And Mulder thinks about how it’s the first time he’s heard that word and it’s made him feel happy.
And then they all go trick-or-treating and Scully lectures them about not eating too much sugar but later they catch her eating lots of M&Ms and William laughs and Mulder loves it and kisses her and tells her she tastes like chocolate.