Her Love, His Scars
Chapter Two – First Chat
Ziora woke up the next morning with a stiff neck, her sketchbook open beside her and her phone resting on her lap. She hadn't planned to sleep in her studio, but that's what hustle life looked like sometimes. At least the new corset design was halfway done.
She stretched, yawned, and reached for her phone. Three missed messages.
Damian
10:03 p.m. – Hope you got home safe, Zee.
10:12 p.m. – Still not saved my number?
12:41 a.m. – Okay. You're one of those "mystery girls." I see you.
She smiled a little. Not too much. Just a corner of her lips.
She didn't reply.
Yet.
After brushing her teeth and tying her scarf, she checked his WhatsApp profile — nothing. Just his number and a blank profile picture. No status. No updates. That annoyed her. What kind of person had zero digital footprint in 2025?
She sent a message anyway.
Ziora:
Mystery girl, yeah? You're not even on WhatsApp. What are you hiding?
He replied in two minutes.
Damian:
My face is too fine to be wasting time online.
She laughed, actually laughed this time.
Ziora:
Wow. Confidence or delusion?
Damian:
You tell me. But you gave me your number, remember?
She paused. True. She did. She could've walked away last night, but something about his voice… his presence… had hooked her for half a second longer than it should have.
Ziora:
So what do you do, Mr. Mysterious?
Damian:
Football.
I play for Rising Eagles. You probably haven't heard of us. Not yet.
That explained the body.
Ziora:
Nice. I sew. I design clothes. Bridal, ankara, red carpet — the whole vibe.
So if you ever make it to Premier League, I'll be the one making your suit. 😉
Damian:
That sounds like a deal.
Do you always walk like that — like you own the road?
Ziora:
Do you always drive around looking for women to disturb?
Damian:
Only the ones who make me look twice.
She bit her lower lip.
She didn't know why it felt so easy to talk to him. He hadn't asked for her full name. He hadn't tried to call. He was just… texting. Casually. Smoothly. Making her laugh.
Damian:
You're not like other girls.
She frowned a little. "Here we go."
Ziora:
What's that supposed to mean?
Damian:
Don't worry. It's a compliment. You'll figure it out later.
Something about that reply made her pause.
Before she could type again, he sent another message.
Damian:
Let's talk tomorrow. Don't sleep too late. Goodnight, Zee.
She stared at her screen for a few seconds.
No love emoji. No begging. No pressure.
Just a simple "goodnight" from a man she knew nothing about.
Except that he felt… dangerous