chapter 19 -The tangled hearts

There was always something about Zayn. Every time his eyes locked with mine, a shiver would run down my spine, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. That devilish smirk of his, the way he stood too close, and the intense energy he exuded—it was impossible not to feel something. But feeling something didn't mean I was going to let myself get caught up in his web of chaos.

Even Eva, my best friend, was starting to get suspicious about the whole tutoring thing. She hadn't outright asked yet, but I could feel the questions bubbling beneath the surface. I knew I'd have to explain it all to her at some point, but for now, I was content keeping it a secret. It was easier that way, or so I thought.

——————

That evening, the weather matched my mood perfectly. A fine breeze drifted through the air, and the sun was hidden behind thick grey clouds, casting a calm, almost melancholic atmosphere over everything. I decided to take a walk to clear my head. I slipped my AirPods in and let the music fill my ears, drowning out the noise of the world for a while. The dorms had started to feel suffocating, and I needed space, fresh air, and most importantly, time to myself.

As I neared the entrance of the dorm, I saw a familiar figure standing just outside. My heart leapt in my chest, and I blinked in surprise.

"James?"

James was my friend from back home, practically family. We grew up together, and though he was now studying at a college in a different county, he still made time to visit whenever he could. He was the kind of person who would drop everything if I needed him, and seeing him here, holding a bag full of snacks and supplies from my parents, made my heart swell with gratitude. It had been a month since I last saw him, and seeing his face brought back a wave of warmth, like a piece of home had come to me.

"Surprise!" James grinned, holding up the bag. "Your parents sent these over, and I figured I'd deliver them in person. Missed you, Amira."

Without thinking, I rushed over and hugged him, laughing as I threw my arms around his neck. The bag he was holding slipped from his hands and fell to the ground, but neither of us cared. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was genuinely happy.

"I can't believe you're here!" I exclaimed, pulling back slightly but still holding onto him. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

"Same here," he said, ruffling my hair affectionately.

I laughed again, feeling a warmth spread through me that I hadn't felt in a while. For just a moment, it felt like everything was going to be okay. The stress of school, the complications with Zayn, all of it faded away in James' presence.

But the moment was brutally shattered in the blink of an eye.

A fist came out of nowhere, landing squarely on James' face with a sickening crack. I gasped as he staggered back, clutching his jaw in shock and pain. My heart stopped as I realized what had just happened.

Standing there, his fist still clenched and his eyes blazing with fury, was Zayn.

"What the hell?!" I screamed, rushing to James' side as he steadied himself, wincing.

"ZAYN !!!!!!!" I shouted 

James, still holding his jaw, looked dazed but managed to stay on his feet. His eyes flickered with confusion and pain as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"Amira," James muttered, his voice tight with pain, "who the hell is this?"

I barely heard him. My eyes were locked on Zayn, who stood there like a statue, his gaze fixed on James with an intensity that made my skin crawl. His chest rose and fell with deep, measured breaths, and his whole body radiated anger. 

Without thinking, I stepped in front of James, my heart racing. Rage boiled in my veins as I glared at Zayn.

"How dare you?!" I shouted, my voice trembling with fury. Before I could stop myself, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face with all the strength I could muster. The sound of the slap echoed in the air, sharp and jarring, but Zayn didn't flinch.

His head turned slightly with the force of the blow, but when he looked back at me, his expression hadn't changed. His eyes still burned with that same, terrifying intensity.

Zayn didn't say a word. He just stood there, staring at me, then at James, as if trying to process what had just happened. His fists slowly unclenched, but he didn't move. It was as if he had turned to stone, rooted to the spot.

James, still recovering from the punch, straightened up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes flashed with anger, and I could feel the tension rising between him and Zayn. He stepped forward, his fists clenched, ready to hit back, but I quickly moved in between them, pressing my hands against James' chest to stop him.

"No, James," I said firmly. "Let's just go."

James hesitated, glaring at Zayn with a look of pure hatred, but after a moment, he nodded.

I grabbed James' arm and pulled him away, my heart still racing. As we walked out of the school gates, the clouds overhead darkened, and the first drops of rain began to fall. The tension in the air was almost suffocating, and I could feel guilt gnawing at me for dragging James into this mess.

"I'm sorry," I muttered as we reached the street. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

James shook his head, still wiping at his mouth. "It's not your fault, Amira. But seriously, who is that guy? And why the hell did he punch me?"

I didn't have an answer for him. How could I explain Zayn's erratic behavior when I didn't even understand it myself? Instead of answering, I just shook my head and said, "It's complicated."

James sighed, his expression softening. "Just… be careful around him, okay? He's dangerous."

I nodded, but inside, I was seething. Dangerous was an understatement. Zayn was more than dangerous—he was a walking storm, unpredictable and reckless. And for some reason, he had decided to drag me into his chaos.

After making sure James was okay, I sent him on his way, though the guilt of what had happened weighed heavily on my chest. The rain had started to pour by now, soaking me through as I walked back to the dorm. I should've felt relief that the situation was over, but all I felt was anger. Anger at Zayn, anger at myself for letting things get this far.

As I reached the entrance of the dorm, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Zayn was still there.

He stood exactly where I had left him, drenched from head to toe, his clothes clinging to his muscular frame, rain running down his face. His eyes were shadowed, his expression unreadable as he stared off into the distance. My anger flared up again, and without thinking, I marched up to him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him toward me.

"How dare you!" I yelled, my voice breaking through the sound of the rain. "How dare you put your hands on my friend!"

Zayn's eyes finally met mine, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in them—something softer, more vulnerable. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same cold, unyielding intensity.

He didn't try to push me away, didn't fight back. He just stood there, letting me grip his collar, his eyes boring into mine.

"Answer me!" I demanded, shaking him slightly.

His lips parted, and for a moment, I thought he was going to apologize, or at least explain himself. But instead, his voice came out low and rough, barely audible over the rain.

"How dare you hug another man?" he said, his words laced with something dark and possessive.

I froze, my grip on his collar loosening slightly .