Zayn's pov:
At first, her eyelids blinked, teetering between not truly lost like a candle trying to fight the wind as if it weren't ready to give in. I held my breath. I didn't blink.
And then-she opened her eyes.
Relief flooded my chest like a jolt, made me dizzy. My legs felt weak, but I stood up nevertheless, leaning forward from the chair I hadn't left once throughout the entire night. Her gaze seemed distant and unfocused, but she was here. She was awake. She was breathing.
"Water."
That single word made my whole body move as if guided by instinct. I nearly tripped over myself rushing to the glass. I didn't think I could speak-I didn't even want to. My hands trembled a little bit as I helped her sip, observing her lips recourse, her throat move and how she swallowed in torment.
God, I had never hated water more than at this moment. But it felt torturous in that even the most basic of necessities felt escape that pain to her.
And then she uttered those words.
"How could he do this to me."
Her voice... crackled, splitting like dry ground unchecked. It penetrated me. Because I didn't have an answer. I didn't know how Sylus could have done this to her. I only knew how it looked when a person fell apart completely in front of you-and you couldn't do a thing to stop it.
She didn't look at me. She didn't seem to even know I was there. Everything she said was for him. Only him.
Her voice trembled, her strength returning, because she was hurt.
"She was next to him, Zayn... Liya. Her name is Liya. She was so beautiful. She almost looked peaceful. Almost like she was meant to be by his side."
I fixed my eyes on the floor. I couldn't look at her. I wished more by the moment that I could erase his face from her mind. But, I couldn't do that. I couldn't unlove him, on her behalf.
"And he... he held her in a bear hug. Just like how he would hold me when he thought I would get lost in the crowd."
I wanted to scream. I wanted roar and rip that terrible memory out of her head and her heart and fill it with times I held her gently, held her up, and listened to her breathe in the dark.
But it all didn't matter. Because she couldn't see me. She couldn't see anything but him.
"He didn't even look at me once. Just.... just said it. Just threw it in my face, like it was just a joke."
Tears rolled down her face and honestly, I almost cried too. But I held it in. For her. I needed to.
"I gave him everything Zayn. My teenage years, my first, my poetry, my laugh, my love. I was there for him when he had no one at all. I stood by him when he had me feeling like I didn't matter."
She turned to me. Her eyes were red, swollen, and tired. "And know he is going get to be so proud... so proud while I sit here with my body giving up on me and my heart breaking all over again. Do you even know what that is like?!"
I did know, all too well. I just didn't want to make this moment about me. I wanted to let her know that I understood, and that her pain was not something she had to carry alone.
"Y/N... I am here, okay? I have always..."
But she snapped.
"Have you ever even loved someone that way?! Have you ever sat beside someone while the one person you wanted was choosing someone else?"
Her scream was deafening. It rattled me. I blinked, completely dumbfounded.
"No! You haven't! Because if you did you wouldn't be sitting there looking at me like I am some one who is going to just get over it!"
She was wrong.
But I couldn't even speak. I didn't know what to say. Because every single one of her syllables was the same heartbreak I was sharing for her. She could just not see it.
So I said what felt natural.
"You're right."
Because if she needs someone to blame, then I'll take it. Better me than herself. Better me than silence. Because I do know.
She hugged herself, shivering. Her voice broke again, telling me: "I don't even know who I am without him. I waited. I waited for him to come back. I waited for him to choose me. And he never did. He never did. Trust me, I never wanted to be this kind of woman, the spineless broke woman."
I moved very slowly, afraid she would just push me away and herself too. But she didn't. I moved to her side and sat down. Quietly. I placed my hand on her back, not to hold her, not to stop her, just to say, I am here.
She cried like it was the only thing keeping her alive. Loud, guttural, painful cries. I stared at the ceiling, blinking back my own sobs.
I watched her cry for a love that ruined her.
Watched her mourn the girl who believed in forever.
And I hated feeling so helpless.
But I stayed.
When she leaned on me, I didn't breathe. I just let her rest. She felt too light. Her breathing felt too ragged. My hand was resting lightly on her hair as if she were glass.
"I'm tired," she murmured. "Just so tired of loving someone who does not love me back."
God, I knew that sentence.
I felt it reverberate through my bones.
So I didn't say she'd be fine. I didn't lie to her.
I just laid her back down. Tucked her in slowly. Moved the strands of hair from her face.
And when her lashes started to lower, and her breathing settled, I whispered only one thing:
"I'm here."
Because if I said anything more, I would have broken too.
To be continued...