Ayra didn't go back to class.
Her feet wandered without direction, but her heart was loud — too loud.
Cairo's words kept replaying like echoes in a hallway she couldn't escape from.
"He doesn't know how to be gentle with something he thinks he'll eventually lose."
Why didn't Zayn ever tell her?
He didn't have to say everything. Just enough to help her understand why he kept pulling her close only to push her away.
Her chest ached. She wanted to hold him. But at the same time… she didn't know if he'd let her.
She stood outside her gate, staring at the sky, when a message blinked across her screen.
Zayn: Come out. I'm outside.
Her stomach flipped. She looked down the street — and there he was.
Black hoodie. Hands in pockets. Head bowed. Like he was hiding from the world. Or maybe himself.
Ayra walked toward him slowly, and when their eyes met, she realized—
He looked tired.
Not physically. But emotionally. Like he'd been holding his breath for too long.
Neither of them spoke.
Then softly, she said, "You could've told me, you know."
His brows pulled. "Told you what?"
"Everything. The part of you you've been hiding."
Zayn looked away. "Cairo told you?"
Ayra didn't answer directly. "Why do you keep trying to protect me from who you are?"
"Because," he said, voice cracking a little, "I don't want you to see that side of me and change your mind."
Her throat tightened.
He added quietly, "I know you're soft. And sweet. And you deserve someone who won't make you second-guess how loved you are. But me? I'm still learning. I'm scared that if you fall too fast… I won't catch you in time."
Her eyes glistened. "Then don't let me fall first."
Zayn stared at her, like that sentence just cracked something wide open inside him.
He took a step forward. And another.
Then he reached out — hesitantly — brushing his fingers down her cheek, like she was something fragile and fleeting.
"I'll try," he whispered. "I swear I'll try."
And for the first time, she believed him.
Not because his words were perfect…
But because he meant them