The night was restless, the air thick with that uneasy stillness that always came before a storm. Ayra had just shut her curtains when a soft, deliberate knock tapped against her window frame.
She froze.
It was Cairo.
He stood there on the balcony, hands in his pockets, the faintest curl of a smile on his lips.
"Mind if I come in?" His voice carried that low, silken tone — the kind that could make danger sound like an invitation.
Ayra hesitated before stepping aside.
Cairo walked in like the room belonged to him, his eyes sweeping over her in that quiet way that made her feel both exposed and examined.
"You've been curious," he said, leaning against her desk. "About last night. About him."
Her breath caught. "You mean Zayn."
He chuckled softly.
"Zayn's not what you think, Ayra. He's good at making people forget where he came from… what he's done."
Her chest tightened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "There was a night. Years ago. A choice that cost someone their life. Zayn doesn't talk about it, but it follows him. Follows everyone who gets too close."
The smoothness in his tone cracked into something sharper, almost a warning.
"Stay aware. Or you might end up being his next regret."
Before she could press him for more, he pushed off the desk, his nearness brushing heat along her skin. His smile returned, softer this time, but his eyes… they didn't match.
"Goodnight, Ayra."
And just like that, he was gone — leaving behind a weight she couldn't name.
She didn't expect the next knock.
It was quieter. Almost hesitant.
Zayn.
He stood there in a black hoodie, his hair a little messy, his eyes darker than the night behind him.
"Can I come in?"
She nodded, but her pulse was still racing from Cairo's visit.
He didn't wander the room like Cairo had. He just stood there, staring at her like she was the only thing keeping him steady.
"I heard Cairo was here," he said finally.
She crossed her arms. "He told me something about your past."
Zayn's jaw tightened. "Don't listen to him."
"Then tell me the truth."
He looked at her for a long time before speaking.
"There was someone I cared about. I couldn't save them. And I've been living with it ever since." His voice was low, rough at the edges. "That's all you need to know right now."
She stepped closer. "And the rest?"
His gaze softened just enough for her to see the ache behind it.
"When you're ready to hear it… and I'm ready to say it."
Before she could stop him, he leaned forward and pressed a slow kiss to her forehead — warm, lingering — then pulled back and left without another word.
Ayra stood frozen in the quiet, Cairo's warning and Zayn's confession tangling inside her until she couldn't tell which was truth… and which was the lie