He assumed Zayn had the teddy for comfort but it was quite odd seeing a nineteen year old boy cuddle a teddy tight to his chest in the way that Zayn did. It was something that Liam had never seen before but he could just tell how much the teddy meant to Zayn due to how it physically looked, he pondered of how long Zayn must have had that teddy. He guessed for a long time.

Zayn looked so sweet cuddled up with the teddy and Liam would be completely lying if he said that he didn't find the opposite boy completely and utterly adorable right now because, well, he did and he also felt completely, fucking strange for both saying and thinking that; he's straight, a heterosexual, a man who loved women only. So why did the boy who he's usually pissed off by, for no good reason, look and feel so suddenly perfect to him right now? Why did he feel the urge to baby him? To cuddle him? To make him soup? Liam really didn't know and in a way it sort of terrified him because he was just so confused. He had never felt like this before. Not with anyone, and especially not with a boy and he hopes his confusion isn't visible.

The man sighed softly and rubbed his temple, hearing the sound of the soup bubbling in the metallic pan - he was pulled out of his thoughts. With a quiet groan, he made his way back over to the kitchen and turned down the heat before gently stirring the soup in circles. He wondered of all the things that Zayn had said to him, about him being a bad roommate and about him kicking Zayn out so he can have a cheeky fuck with some lass he'll never see again. Suddenly, he started to feel bad. He started to feel like shit. He started to realise and understand why Zayn seemed so scared of him, so ataken back and so distant. He understood why Zayn would do everything in his way to make sure he wasn't near him. And oh fuck, how come he didn't see this any sooner... If this is how he's treated Zayn, how has he treated everyone else?

By now the boy had his head in his hands and his eyes were shut tight. God, he's an arsehole and he owes Zayn, and possibly a lot of other people an apology. Words cannot even make up for how much of a dick he has been, he didn't even know what course Zayn was taking for God's sake. They've shared a room for three months and he cared more about football and his dick being in some random girl than getting to know the poor boy he shared a room with. How could he be such an arse?

His brain was a mess and it was pretty much his own fault. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know if there was anything he could do - but what he did know, was that the soup was ready for the sick boy and the best thing in this moment was to hand it to him and soothe boy's illness. Liam dished it up in a bowl with cut up pieces of bread, disguised as 'soldiers' that can be dipped into the soup. He hoped Zayn liked it as this soup was special to him - like he had previously mentioned to Zayn - his Mother made it for him and as he doesn't get to see his Mother much anymore, things like this felt extra sacred to Liam.

He took the soup on a patterned tray over to Zayn and placed it on the small wooden table beside his bed, making sure he didn't push off any of the trinkets in which Zayn had on there. It appeared the boy was a collector of crystals as those are what covered the majority of the table, along with random moistures and jewellery. With a gentle tap, Zayn woke up and looked at Liam. First, looking very sleepy, then confused and then in utter shock. He let go of the teddy and sat up quickly, looking towards Liam, "Oh, um."

The teddy now back on the floor, tangled up in the soft duvet which covered the floor beside Zayn's bed. "How are you feeling? The soup's ready, I left it for a bit as I cut up some bread... Made you, like, some pieces you can dip in you, know?" Liam said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head to which Zayn nodded at and held the bowl, looking at it. A small yet sweet smile, growing upon his face, he was quite shocked that Liam created the soup for him. "Thank you. I'm feeling a lot better, not as warm now and my head doesn't ache as much."

"You're welcome, let me know if you need anything else. Or something... Do you want me to put music on? Or the tv? We could watch a movie... I mean, not together.. Like I will sit on my bed, or.. I dunno..." Liam mumbled.

Zayn raised an eyebrow, confused at how the slightly younger boy was behaving. How did the man who was hurling abuse at him, turn into somebody so sweet and almost shy? "We can watch a movie, If you want. I'd like that. What's your favourite movie?"

"My favourite movie is probably - Wait. You can't laugh, or make fun of me."

Zayn nodded with a laugh, putting some of the soup onto the spoon. He put it to his mouth and tasted it, enjoying the flavour. He licked his lips and hummed, "The soup is nice... But why would I judge you for your taste in movies? Oh no, please don't tell me it's like, 50 shades or something...?"

Liam chuckled, shaking his head. "Thanks. I'll keep the fact you like it in mind for if I ever make it again. And no... It's Mamma Mia."

"Mamma Mia? You're joking." Zayn teased, eating some of the bread in which he had dipped into the warm soup.

"I'm not, you said you wouldn't judge. What's yours?" Liam asked, sitting on his own bed. It was only a couple of metres from Zayn so the two were very much still within talking distance. It saved Liam from standing awkwardly next to Zayn's bed. "Mine is probably... Um, don't make fun of me either... I like any Disney movie, really."

Disney? Liam thought, somehow that really made sense and he didn't understand or know why it made sense, but Zayn definitely seemed like the sort of person who would sit and enjoy a Disney movie. Liam, himself usually, shamefully, fell asleep during them but he won't admit that to Zayn. "Sounds good. We can watch one, what about Bambi?"

"Bambi." The boy smiled with a nod, eating more of the soup. "Yeah. I like that. Let's watch it."

Liam nodded and put Bambi on before then getting up and making some toast for him to eat himself. He was, in his own words, starving as hadn't eaten yet because he was busy creating the soup as well as being there for the sick boy. (Not that he didn't mind caring for the boy because he oddly really enjoyed it?)