Zorvath stood up slowly, still holding my wrist.
His grip wasn't tight… but it was firm enough to tell me he wasn't letting go yet.
He looked around the room and said in a low, controlled voice,
"Everyone can leave now. Tomorrow morning, we'll start with the poster distribution."
That was all anyone needed to hear.
Chairs scraped back, bags were picked up, and within seconds the group began shuffling out of the café.
Everyone left—
except Sona.
She remained standing there, frozen, staring right at me.
Her eyes kept travelling from my face… to Zorvath's hand still wrapped around my wrist.
Zorvath turned to her sharply.
"What?" he asked.
Sona didn't speak.
She just looked at me, then at him again—
like she was silently asking what was going on.
Zorvath answered for me.
"I'll drop her home," he said.
"You can leave."
Sona hesitated.
Her eyes stayed on me, full of worry or confusion—I couldn't tell.
I gave her a small nod, telling her it was okay.
Only then did she sigh softly and walk toward the exit.
And even as she left, she kept turning back to look at me… until the glass door finally closed behind her.
Leaving the café completely silent.
Now it was only Zorvath and me.
Alone.
His hand still around my wrist, his eyes unreadable, the whole room feeling smaller… darker… and painfully quiet.
"What's going on?" I asked, trying to pull my hand free from his grip.
He didn't let go.
"That's what I'm asking," he said, his voice low and tight. "What's going on?"
I frowned. "What are you even talking about?"
He stepped closer—too close—and bent down until his face was level with mine, forcing me to look at him.
"Lolan," he whispered near my ear.
The name wasn't a question.
It was an accusation.
Only then did I understand.
He had misunderstood everything.
My friendship.
My behaviour.
All of it.
But why should I care?
Why should I explain anything to him?
I lowered my eyes and muttered, just loud enough for him to hear,
"He's better than you."
I only remembered snapping those words at him.
Then the pain hit me — sharp, sudden — as he crashed forward in blind anger. His grip was rough, and before I could react, he slammed me back against the wall. His face was too close, his breath harsh, his eyes burning with a fury that didn't feel human.
I struggled to push him away, but his strength overpowered mine. My lips stung; I tasted blood. For a moment, fear froze me — not because he was close, but because I couldn't understand why his anger had exploded like this.
Finally, he jerked back, exhaling hard. He wiped the corner of his mouth, almost like he was brushing away the last trace of the fight.
I raised my hand to hit him out of pure instinct, but he caught my wrist mid‑air. His other hand pinned my shoulder, forcing me still against the cold wall. My leg tried to kick, but he trapped that too.
He wasn't close in a romantic way —
he was close in a dangerous way.
His voice was low, shaking with anger.
"What did you just say?"
"I… I'm sorry," I whispered.
It was the only thing that came out of my mouth—
small, shaky, and completely swallowed by the silence between us.
Zorvath's expression shifted the second he heard it.
The hard lines of his jaw softened, and the corner of his lips pulled into a slow, knowing smile.
He lifted a hand and gently patted my head—
like I was something he owned, something fragile he refused to break.
"That's my girl," he murmured.
Before I could even breathe, my world tilted.
In the next moment, I was suddenly off the ground—
lifted into his arms in a perfect bridal carry.
My breath caught in my throat.
"Zorvath—"
I tried, but he didn't even look at me.
He just held me tighter and began walking.
His steps were steady, controlled, almost too calm after everything that happened.
I didn't know where he was taking me.
The café lights blurred behind us, the night air cold against my face.
And then, suddenly—
I felt him bend down a little as he placed me onto a seat.
A soft seat.
Only then did I realize it.
Mirzand's car.
But Mirzand wasn't here.
So how did the car—
My thoughts stopped when Zorvath closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side.
He slid in, adjusted the seat with one hand, and started the engine in one smooth movement.
His face was unreadable.
The car moved.
The whole drive was silent.
Not awkward…
not angry…
just heavy.
He didn't speak.
I didn't dare to.
I sat there, breathing carefully, watching the lines of his face glow and fade under the passing streetlights.
His grip on the steering wheel was firm.
Focused.
His jaw set, his eyes straight on the road.
I couldn't tell what he was thinking.
But I knew one thing for sure—
He wasn't the same Zorvath from a few minutes ago.
He was calmer. But that calm scared me more.
The car stopped in front of my house, and I didn't waste even a second.
I jumped out immediately, ran inside, and shut the door behind me.
I stayed there, pressed against the door, until I heard the sound of the car rolling away.
Only then did I let out a deep breath and turn around—
And there she was.
Nanny stood in the hallway, arms crossed, looking at me with a mix of confusion and concern.
"What do I explain now…" I whispered to myself.
Nanny walked closer.
"Where were you, sweetie?" she asked.
"You didn't tell me anything before leaving."
I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.
"Nanny, I was late for the meeting, so I rushed out of the house. I forgot to tell you, that's all."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Whose car was that?"
"Oh—" I hesitated.
"That was one of my friends."
Nanny's expression softened.
She smiled gently and patted my head.
"Go, get calm, good, and fresh now, sweetie."
Her touch was warm and loving.
But the moment her hand rested on my head…
Zorvath's touch flashed in my mind.
Both felt different.
Both felt special.
What are you thinking, Aria?
What is wrong with you?
Shaking my head, I rushed past Nanny and escaped into my room.
Two Zorvaths.
That's what it felt like.
One was sweet, calm, almost gentle these past two days…
And the other—
the one I saw tonight—
was a monster wrapped in skin.
Wild. Angry. Possessive.
A storm with legs.
Why?
What triggered that?
Me giggling with Lolan?
Was that enough to make him jealous?
Jealous.
The word hit me like a slap.
Why would he even be jealous?
My mind jumped back to the café.
The way he leaned close…
The way he said those words—
the so-called proposal.
Was that a joke?
A stupid prank?
Please let it be a joke.
I prayed it was.
Because I never reacted.
I never answered him.
And he never asked again.
But watching him tonight—
the dominance
the possessiveness
the anger that sparked only because of me
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
What is his character, really?
I don't know anything about him.
Not truly.
Except for one thing:
Zorvath is…
interesting.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," I muttered, hitting my forehead lightly with my palm.
"What are you thinking, Aria?"
I couldn't let my thoughts go wild like that.
I needed a distraction.
Something. Anything.
So I grabbed my phone, opened Instagram, and started scrolling.
And then—
I saw it.
My old chat with Sinas.
My finger paused over it for a second… then I tapped.
Oh. My. God.
Instant regret.
The moment the chat opened, I felt my soul leave my body.
It was cringe.
Cringe on a level that should be banned by law.
Cringe enough to melt the screen.
Why were we like this?
Why was I like this?
It wasn't even cute-cringe.
It was criminally embarrassing.
My old messages were so dramatic and sweet they could give diabetes to a demon.
And still…
some part of me smiled.
Because back then, those same cringe messages felt like winning a national award.
My whole heart used to explode for every "hi".
I scrolled a little more and whispered to myself:
"Thank God he never showed this to any of his friends.
Mr. Love… you're actually an understanding human being."
I shook my head, half laughing.
But the biggest surprise?
He messaged me first back then.
He started the conversation.
And I… somehow…
actually managed to reply like a normal person.
Calm.
Cool.
No panic attack.
"I really appreciate myself," I muttered proudly.
Hi.
A message popped up at the bottom of the screen.
My heart jumped.
I scrolled down quickly and—
Yes.
It was Sinas.
Messaging me again after weeks.
Maybe even months.
I don't think that old conversation ever truly died…
we just stopped touching it.
I swallowed and typed carefully,
Hello.
Barely a second passed before another message arrived.
How's your cafe things going?
I sent a small emoji and replied,
Good.
How about your school? Festival or something?
He responded almost instantly.
Festival?
"Yeah," I typed.
"I see some kind of lights all over your school. Even at midnight sometimes."
He replied with a laughing emoji.
It's not a festival.
Sports and Arts Day are coming, right?
So we're prepping for that.
That's why I didn't get time to check You too
I stared at his message for a moment.
What made you text now?
I typed that, hesitated for half a second, and hit send.
He replied with just a smiley.
I stared at it, wondering what that meant, when another message popped up.
I heard Ria met you.
What did she say?
If she said something to offend you, just forget it.
I froze.
That day replayed in my mind—the ice cream parlour, Sona beside me, and Ria with her whole gang… the way they cornered us, the way their words stung even after we walked away.
I looked at his message again.
And again.
And again.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard for almost a minute before I finally typed:
Nothing personal.
And then I locked my phone.
I didn't check if he replied again.
I didn't want to.
I just lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to swallow everything boiling inside my chest.
Ria.
Of all people, Ria.
There are so many beautiful girls around Sinas. Girls who actually fit his world. Girls who shine without trying.
And me?
I'm just… one more option.
One more distraction.
Maybe just a toy he picks up when he's bored.
Maybe Sona was right.
Maybe all of them were right.