When Zayn was on his way to his room, he definitely didn’t expect to find nurses. Unannounced room inspection, they had said, and Zayn knew he was fucked. It didn’t take long before they walked out again, one empty and one half-filled bottle of painkillers in their hands. Without saying anything, they took Zayn with them, only telling him they were going to have to talk when they reached the room.
Now, Zayn was on his way to his room again. His eyes were red-rimmed after three fucking hours of talking and begging and crying, and he was hoping no one would decide that now was a good time to walk past him, as he didn’t want anyone seeing him like this.