He kept his gaze on the floor, filled with questions he couldn't voice. Then he whispered, "...Who are you?"
He glanced around the kitchen once more. The plates were tidy, and the table was all set. The vase was there, but it felt like a tornado had just blown through.
Then it struck him: he had actually talked. Not just given orders or directions, he had really connected with her. More than he had with anyone in ages.
He used to avoid that kind of thing.
So why her? Why now? Why was he even interested in a girl he barely knew and didn't fully trust? He still had no answers, but that question kept nagging at him.
Meanwhile,
Zeynep didn't stop until she reached the darkest corner of the cabin, where the light barely reached, and the walls felt like they were closing in. Finally, her knees gave way, and she sank to the floor like her body remembered it was made of fragments, all shattered.
Tears streamed down her face silently.
No loud sobs or dramatic wails, just the kind of crying that happens when you've been holding everything in for too long. Salty tears slid down cheeks that had forgotten how to feel soft. Her shoulders barely shook because even pain had learned to stay quiet in her life.
She pressed her palm over her mouth, as if trying to keep all the broken pieces from spilling out. The room was eerily quiet, only the faint sound of the wind rustling through the wooden structure reminding her she was still alive, still breathing, still not safe.
Despite her attempts to wipe her face with her sleeve, the tears kept coming. It was something she absolutely hated. Hated it for being a sign of weakness. Hated the mess of it all.
But above all…
She hated that she couldn't figure out what had cracked her open more, his questions or the way he asked them.
Zayden.
She'd been lying to herself, thinking she wasn't interested in him. She didn't want to hear his story. She told herself she wouldn't let herself fall apart for a guy who had a war in his eyes and silence in his soul.
But the moment he said her name like it actually meant something, like it hadn't been buried beneath years of escaping, hiding, and forgetting, something shifted inside her.
Zeynep Koral.
She almost didn't recognize herself when she said it out loud. Almost forgot what it felt like to be noticed.
And that scared her more than the men chasing her ever could.
She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to shield herself from the outside world. Unwelcome memories surged forward, clawing at her mind.
The sound of gunfire echoed in the dark.
A door was violently kicked open.
Hands that meant harm grasped her tightly.
A scream faded away into quietness.
Her breath hitched again, but this time she pushed the fear deep down inside, determined not to let it take control. This wasn't the right time to fall apart. She couldn't break now, especially not when she was so close to finding a way to escape once more.
Zayden's voice kept playing in her head.
"Did they hurt you?"
Not asking what happened or what she did. Just... did they hurt her?
There was something in the way he said it, calm and careful, like he really got pain. It made her chest hurt.
He was trouble, she knew that. But sometimes danger doesn't come with weapons. Sometimes it's wrapped in unexpected kindness. And that was way harder to walk away from.
She curled up, resting her forehead on her knees, and tried to breathe slowly. In. Out. In again.
She had to think. She had to run. She had to stay.
She was totally lost.
All she knew was that this guy she barely knew had somehow seen right through the walls she'd built over the years. And that scared her more than the past she was trying to escape.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Zayden was still deep in thought. He stepped out of the cabin to check around like he did every day, making sure no one was following him, no one had come after him. After scanning the area, he headed back inside.
Back in the cabin, Zeynep wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her breathing was still a bit off, but getting there. She pushed herself up from the floor, feeling the tension in her muscles from the heavy silence. Her knees weren't happy. Neither was her heart. But she couldn't hide in the shadows anymore.
She slowly made her way to the door, feeling the old wooden floor creak under her bare feet. Grabbing the doorknob, she noticed how cold it felt against her warm skin. She hesitated for a moment, fingers lingering as she prepared for the chilly air outside and the questions she really wanted to avoid.
But as soon as she turned the knob—
Another hand landed on it from the other side.
Her breath caught.
So did his.
For a tense second, neither of them moved.
Neither said a word.
The door stayed closed between them, but their hands were just inches apart, separated only by the thickness of the door and all the unsaid things hanging in the air. Her heart raced. She knew it was him. She could feel the warmth from his palm through the metal and the way he held on. Just like him.
Zayden.
He hadn't chased after her when she ran, but now, he was right there, reaching for the same door at the same time.
She froze, caught between flinging it open or stepping back into the shadows. But then, slowly and cautiously, she opened the door a few inches, letting in light and mingling their breaths.
And then she saw him.
His eyes met hers, sharp, stormy, hard to read. But there was something else there. A flicker. Almost like he wasn't sure if he should say something or step back. Like he was just as unsure about moments like this.
Neither of them moved.
Zeynep straightened up, but her eyes gave her away. They were red and puffy.
He noticed, of course. His gaze dropped to her trembling fingers still wrapped around the doorknob, then back to her face.
"I was coming to check if you were—"
"I was just going out—"
They both spoke at the same time, their voices overlapping and cutting each other off. The silence that followed was packed with tension.