Chapter Text
“Tell me again.”
Liam gives him a pointed look, but the corners of his lips quirk up. He turns some to lean over Zayn, just as resistant to the idea of getting out of bed as him, even though he pretends not to be. “I’ve told you a million times, and we have something to do today. We gotta get up, babe.”
Zayn tries to mimic the round of Liam’s eyes when he pouts, and he hopes it has the same effect on Liam that it does on Zayn. “Just one more time, please.”
Liam sighs. He reaches out to touch a finger against Zayn’s eyelashes, so gentle Zayn is pretty sure it’s only his heightened senses that allow him to feel it. “You have these eyes –“
He closes them, trying to picture what Liam sees as he describes his features. But he only sees Liam, stained on the back of his eyelids.
That is all he ever sees, really, when he closes his eyes.
“Your skin gets really red when you drink. Like your skin color darkens, but it also gets really red and flushed like you’re sunburnt or blushing.”
Zayn flutters his eyes open as Liam drags a nail across his bottom lip. Liam looks down at him with a slight pout.
“Not like now. You’re pale. Should probably eat,” he suggests, raising a brown in Zayn’s direction. “I could use some breakfast myself, actually.”
Zayn groans. He woke up three hours ago, and the need to drink has only gotten stronger but the need to stay wrapped around Liam while he snored softly against his chest, seemed more important. Or at least, harder to fight.
So he stayed curled around Liam, ignoring the ache around his teeth and dulling his senses. He needs to work better on a feeding schedule, since he always relied on Louis and he is still having a difficult time adjusting to being without him.
Liam presses a kiss to his forehead, lips warm and inviting but he is pulling away and climbing out of bed before Zayn can pull their lips together and keep him there.
Begrudgingly, Zayn pulls himself out of bed and moves. He gets to the bathroom before Liam, sitting on the edge of the bathtub with a mischievous grin before the man comes in. Liam jumps slightly when his eyes slide over him.
“That’s cool,” Liam says, grin pushing high into his cheeks. “I didn’t even feel you move past me in the hallway.”
Zayn shrugs with a grin. “It’s convenient.”
He stays where he is and watches as Liam leans over the sink and starts washing his face. He’s not sure why he is so mesmerized by it, but he is. He is mesmerized by everything Liam does, really, and he enjoys the red that creeps up Liam’s chest when Liam glances over and sees him watching him.
“What are you staring at? I thought I said you should –“
“Hard not to stare,” Zayn interrupts. “You’re kind of beautiful mate.”
Liam gives him a look but he blushes even harder and looks away. His fingers fumble with the shaving cream that he lathers his jaw with, watching his reflection in a way that makes Zayn envious.
Zayn gets up then, when he grabs the razor, easily plucking it from his fingers. He takes the hand towel and cleans off Liam’s jaw, and nuzzles his own against it before moving his lips to Liam’s shoulders.
“I like the beard,” Zayn murmurs against his skin. Liam is looking at the mirror in front of him, maybe looking to see the way Zayn’s hand looks as it curls carefully around his neck and cups him there, or wishing he could see the contrast of their skin though Liam had been right, his skin is sickly pale, almost paler than Liam’s.
It is only Liam in the mirror though, head tilted back some, and Zayn sees the bob of his Adam’s apple as he feels it move against the palm of his hand.
Zayn wants to see Liam’s expression when he tilts his head and says, ‘Now can you tell me something?” He can feel the way Liam’s pulse picks up under the thin skin and he groans, fingers digging into Liam’s neck softly to tilt his head more.
“What does it feel like? When you um, drink um –“
“Like I shouldn’t but like I shouldn’t do anything else but this,” Zayn murmurs, dragging his dull teeth against Liam’s skin, moving across his shoulder and to curve of his neck. He curls his other arm around Liam’s waist, palm flattening against his abdomen and Liam slides his hand over his almost instinctively to plaster their bodies together. “It’s different, you’re different. Human, animal – dulls the ache, satiates the thirst. Vampire blood makes me feel power. But you –“
He sinks his teeth in carefully, feeling Liam’s body tense in his arms for only a brief moment before he is relaxing, sinking into Zayn’s chest. He wonders what it feels like for the human. He had really never considered it before, never really cared.
The groan that rattles in Liam’s chest that makes Zayn’s eyes flicker up towards the mirror to watch him. Liam’s head tilts back against Zayn’s shoulder, teeth trapping his lower lip and skin so red, speckled and blotchy under the coating of hair across his chest.
Something flickers in the mirror close to Liam and Zayn pulls off, eyes squinting as he stares at the space in front of him. He turns around, with his hands still latched to Liam’s body to look around the small bathroom, seeing nothing.
Liam is cupping his neck where his lips had been, red liquid seeping from his fingers when he turns to face him. There is a dazed look on Liam’s face, and his brows push together slightly in concern.
Zayn would have smelt a vampire before he came in, but nothing but a vampire could have moved fast enough to only catch his eye and then be gone again. He looks back in the mirror, seeing nothing but Liam and the wall behind them.
“What is it?” Liam whispers, turning around in Zayn’s arms. Zayn ducks his head back to Liam’s neck, tongue rolling over his flesh, so the teeth marks dented there will fade within the hour. His senses are clear, and he can tell there isn’t anything other than human around the entire building, except for himself.
“Nothing,” he murmurs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand to press them to Liam’s forehead. He taps a finger under Liam’s chin, tilting his head forward, eyes scanning his face to make sure he is alright. There is still a flush in his cheeks, his breathing isn’t any more labored than normal, and his heart beats steady. Zayn is starting to fall in love with the sound.
“Thought I saw something. I think I’m just tired.”
Liam grins. “Shouldn’t have stayed up so late then.”
“Your fault,” Zayn groans, pecking his lips. “And for your question, you make me feel more powerful, but different, like alive - I haven’t experienced it before, but –“
Zayn presses their lips together, unsure of how to explain it really. Liam doesn’t press for more when he pulls away, but his response isn’t any better, and makes him tense. It curls and tightens in his stomach in a way that would make him feel sick, he knows, if he were human.
“So, what if I was like a vampire? Would it be like then? Even more powerful?”
Zayn frowns at him, the slight thought of it making him panic, protective -“I thought we had someplace to go.”
Liam rolls his eyes. “Just sayin’.”
“Yeah, well, don’t,” Zayn mumbles, kissing him once more before he is pulling away and padding out of the bathroom to try and make Liam eggs again.
Liam links their fingers as they walk out of the apartment building, trying to keep the bounce in his step at bay because he is so excited. Zayn looks nervous, jaw tense and eyes flicking around as they walk like he is expecting something to pop out. It’s Liam’s fault, he knows, because he isn’t telling Zayn where they are going.
“Niall said he was going to have Louis tell you what he knows, about um – you. Did he?”
He squeezes their fingers in case this makes Zayn uncomfortable, but it doesn’t seem to. Zayn nods, the fingers of his other hand rubbing at his chin thoughtfully.
“My name is Zayn Malik, and I am nineteen technically. I had two sisters, and I had been sick and Louis changed to save me. I must have been really sick, because normally we can heal without having to make someone a vampire.”
Liam nods. He doesn’t want to admit that Niall told him this, it feels wrong. Like Zayn should be the one telling him who he is, but he wants to help. He doesn’t trust that Louis will tell him everything, and he should know it all. Including what Liam and Niall know, and then they can figure out the rest together.
They haven’t talked much about it since Zayn came back a few days ago. Liam wants to let him be the one to bring it up so he doesn’t feel like he is pushing him into it, and he really hasn’t been able to stop kissing and touching Zayn since he came back because he missed him those two weeks. So much, it feels kind of abnormal.
“Malik,” Liam repeats, swinging their hands. He feels like a little kid, and he has the urge to skip around. “Payne plus Malik. The carving on the tree?”
Zayn’s eyes widen some, mouth falling open a bit like he hadn’t realized this. His nose wrinkles after a moment, laughter in his voice when he asks, “Do you think I dated your great grandfather or summat?”
Liam nudges him in the shoulder, frowning. He kind of feels jealous, thinking about Zayn with someone else. Even his great grandfather.
And that thought is super weird –
“No, Niall said your sister did.”
Zayn considers this. “What else did Niall say?”
Liam feels disappointed, that Louis hadn’t filled him in more. “He gave me a clue onto who you can talk to so you can find out more.”
Zayn frowns at him, but waits for Liam to continue.
“Mrs. Ramir.”
He goes quiet after that, but he moves closer to Liam, curling an arm around his lower back instead of holding his hand. Liam is more aware of the way their footsteps sync together, the way Zayn seems to mold into his side and fit there perfectly like he was meant to –
And Liam can’t help but think that maybe he is meant to be there. He feels so much better around Zayn, so connected to Zayn and it must mean something that Zayn’s sister and his great grandfather had been connected to. Niall says it’s hard to explain, vampire soul mates –
Liam hopes he is Zayn’s. It makes the idea of being a vampire not so bad, actually. Being with Zayn forever. He tries not to think about it, because then he’ll mention it to Zayn and he had just made it seem like he hated vampires a few days ago.
Even though he has insisted over and over, even after Zayn told him not to, that he in no way hates vampires. Kind of afraid of them, kind of interested by them, but definitely not hate – because that means he would hate something that is a part of Zayn.
“Why would she know anything?” Zayn whispers. His voice wavers a bit like he is nervous.
“I’ll show you, okay?” Liam curls his arm around his back, sliding it up until he can cup his hand around Zayn’s shoulder. “Trust me?”
Zayn nods, teeth digging into the corner of his lip. “Always.”
His eyes are wide, worried and lips tight when they walk past the marketplace that has no closed for the winter. He sees the way Zayn eyes the street name, Crescent Lane before they turn onto it. It is close to where Zayn lived as a human, which is now on the other side of the woods behind the small neighborhood. Niall says it’s where Louis and Harry are now.
And it kind of makes him hate Louis more because Zayn’s been desperate to know who he is for decades, and Louis never told him he lived in his true family’s house.
He had told Mrs. Ramir a few weeks ago that he had wanted to come by and look at her collection of family history, because of the carving in the tree and the signature at the bottom of the drawing Zayn had chosen . Z Malik – at the time, he hadn’t connected the two, nor considered Zayn would be connected to that either, but now there is no doubt in his mind that Zayn drew it.
He just can’t tell Mrs. Ramir that, or he would have to explain how Zayn drew it in 1913.
“Liam,” she greets politely, stepping aside from the entrance way to let them in. “Zayn. It is very good to see you again.”
Zayn nods, holding out a hand. “You too, ma’m.”
She huffs at him, making a face before pulling him into a hug. His body is rigid, uncomfortable looking and Liam reaches out to press fingers against his spine to help him relax. It’s almost instant.
“My family has always collected and organized family records, photos, little pieces of life and memoires that they can,” Mrs. Ramir starts as she guides them through the house.
“Like the drawing?” Liam asks, and Zayn looks at him with a question in his eyes but he ignores it.
She nods. “I have boxes upon boxes of those drawings. There was a voice at the back of my head telling me to bring some to the marketplace, like they knew you would be able to drag this one from the café.”
Her eyes shine when she looks from Liam to Zayn and he gives her a weak smile in return. Liam reaches over, slotting their fingers together to give him a gentle squeeze.
They follow her through the house to a room that looks quite like a library, but the shelves are stacked with scrapbooks mostly, and only a few old looking books. They are filled mostly with boxes, small ones, big ones, all covered in scribbled writing that Liam assumes to be labels.
“My father’s side is here,” Mrs. Ramir explains, pointing to the left. She walks over, finger scanning over labels until she gets to the second shelf. “The last of the Malik name is his mother, my grandmother, who married in 1923.”
He hears Zayn’s sharp of intake of breath when she says his last name, but she doesn’t notice. She gives them a smile, leaving them to explore.
“Her grandmother was a Malik?” Zayn questions, fingers running over the space Mrs. Ramir’s fingers just left.
Liam nods, reaching to pull a box from the shelf. He sits on the floor, Zayn falling in suit beside him. “Your sister, according to Niall. The carving in the tree, it’s also the same last name scribbled on the bottom of that piece of art she gave you.”
Zayn chews on his lip and Liam can feel Zayn staring at him as he digs through the box. He is still, almost creepily so, and Liam thinks if he had a heartbeat he would be able to hear the loud thud of it.
Also, another weird thought. Liam is having a hard time getting used to this whole vampire thing. It made him angry at first, but it feels impossible to keep feeling that way when he so badly wants to kiss Zayn, and hold Zayn and just be near Zayn because it aches when he isn’t.
The box is full of letters and loose photos, documents folded neatly and stuck in manila folders that look new, like Mrs. Ramir keeps good care of them. He files through them until he finds an old photo, sepia colored, of a woman that looks familiar to Liam, even though he doesn’t know her. He turns it easily, not afraid of ruining it because someone had had it laminated.
Waliyha Malik, June 8, 1920.
Zayn holds the photo in the palm of his hands after Liam hands it to him, staring down at it with a blank expression on his face. Liam scooches closer to him, knocking their knees together before he continues to look through the box for more, letting Zayn have his moment to take it all in.
“My sister?” Zayn mutters, flipping the photo over and reading it like Liam had. He breathes the words out, eyes wide. “She’s beautiful.”
“She looks just like you.”
Zayn doesn’t say anything and Liam wishes he could read more from his expression, because he isn’t sure if he is overstepping, or if this is too much for Zayn to handle. He feels like Zayn is okay, like whatever connection they have with each other would tell him if he wasn’t.
Liam finds a few more photos of her and hands them to him. His heart races when he finally finds what he had been hoping to find. A photograph of Zayn. 1914-
Zayn looks up from the photos in his hand, brows furrowing. “What’s wrong?”
Liam forgets that he can feel his heart beat without being near him. He’ll have to work on controlling that. “Nothing, just –“
He gives Zayn a soft smile before placing the photo in his hands. His brows furrow for a moment, lips parting slightly.
He doesn’t look too much younger than he does now in the photo. His cheeks are a bit rounder and his hair is long, pulled into a pony tail at the back of his head. He is smiling, big and bright. One of his hands plays with the button at the top of his collar, against his throat, a tiny bird stained on the back of his hand. The tattoo that remains, a hundred or so years later.
“That’s what I look like?” Zayn whispers, thumb running over the photo. Liam hums, collecting a few more photos from the box with Zayn in them.
“See, you’re beautiful,” Liam tells him. Zayn looks away then, grinning before he presses their lips together eagerly. He pecks Liam’s lips over and over, a brightness in his eyes that make both of them giggle.
“That’s me,” Zayn hums, showing Liam the picture. The smile on his face is starting to hurt because Zayn looks so excited, so soft and just happy –
“Yeah, babe. Told you you looked nothing like me.”
Zayn wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, I’m not as cute.”
Liam shoves him playfully before digging back into the box.
They spend hours going through the boxes and the scrapbooks, shuffling through the photos of Zayn’s immediate family, and then Zayn’s sister’s family, and Mrs. Ramir’s family. There is a scrapbook of drawings folded neatly between the pages, of tigers and wolves curled around each other, sketches of what look to be Waliyha and Zayn’s mother, and Liam puts that to the side for later because Zayn can’t stop looking at the photos he lays out in front of himself.
“I remember her,” Zayn whispers, lining up the photos in order of generation. He brushes a finger over an older Waliyah, holding a small baby in her arms. “When we moved back here, not from when I was human. She had been a lot older, wrinkled and needed a cane when she came to visit the man that worked the stand Mrs. Ramir now owns. I could hear the weak beat of her heart and it always made me so sick and I didn’t know why.”
“She didn’t recognize you?” Liam frowns.
“Didn’t go up to her,” Zayn admits, shrugging the left side of his body. “Scared me. I thought I would hurt her and I didn’t understand the feeling of protectiveness I felt for her. I don’t like hurting anyone, but it had been different with her. I never considered she could be my family, I didn’t think I had one other than Lou and Stan.”
Zayn closes his eyes for a moment, features crumpling together like he is thinking hard. Liam waits, remembering how nervous Zayn had looked that first time he had seen him in the café. He had thought Zayn had been looking at him nervously, not Mrs. Ramir. “I can kind of remember her.”
“Yeah?” Liam breathes excitedly, watching Zayn’s eyes squeeze tightly. Something passes over his face, something calm that makes the corners of his lips quirk upwards.
“I taught her how to ride a horse. She was afraid.”
Liam smiles big, linking their fingers together. “You remember?”
Zayn shakes his head, but he is still smiling, big and bright like in the photograph of him. “Not really. Just, like a flash of it? It is kind of hard to hold onto.”
“But that’s a good sign,” Liam says excitedly.
Zayn’s eyes open, finding him. “It is, thank you, Liam.”
He cups a hand around the back of Liam’s neck, dragging him forward so their lips can brush together. Liam hums, nudging forward so their lips can slot together for a brief moment.
“Memories are forever,” Zayn mumbles against his lips, eyes fluttering open but he is close enough that Liam can almost feel them graze against his own. “I’ve never had anything close to forever.”
Liam grins before he pulls away to look back in the box, not wanting to tell Zayn that he wants to be something he can have forever, too.