The War Inside Him

He didn't know how long he remained there—minutes, maybe an hour. But the echo of her words clung to him.

Later that night, Zara stood by the balcony of her room, the breeze tousling her hair.The night air was cool, with a gentle breeze ruffling the curtains on Zara's balcony. She stood leaning against the railing, arms folded, face turned toward the moonlit sky. The garden below was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets.The moonlight touched her skin gently, like even nature knew to be careful with her.

She felt a presence behind her before she heard it—a faint shift in the atmosphere, like a presence too familiar to ignore.

"You were right," Zarif said.

Zara didn't move, her gaze still fixed on the sky.

"About what?"

He stepped closer, stopping a foot behind her.

"About everything," he murmured. "That I'm unsure of my feelings. That I messed up. That I said one thing and started feeling another."

Now she turned, her eyes steady, sharp like twin blades. "Then why are you here?"

His breath hitched, and his eyes met hers. "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Zara blinked once, slowly,her expression unreadable,. "You think that fixes anything?"

"No," he admitted.

A few minutes passed by .... But no one said anything.....

Silence stretched on, heavy and unrelenting. The night seemed to pause around them—no whispers from the wind, no rustling of leaves. Just two hearts, unspoken words pressing against their lungs.

"I'm sorry."

Zarif's voice was raw, quiet, stripped bare.

She asked firmly, "For what?"

"For wanting to keep you close… without knowing how to."His vulnerability was etched into every word.

She finally looked at him.She studied him, her guard slipping just enough to show the faint glimmer of sadness in her gaze. 

There were no walls in his eyes tonight.

Just a man trying to figure out what he had lost before he ever learned to hold it.

"You think I'm some unshakable force," she whispered. "But the truth is… I just learned how to break silently."

Zarif took a slow step forward, deliberate and careful, closing the distance between them with an air of caution.

"I don't want you to break at all."

She gave a tired smile. "Then stop pulling me into a war where you don't even know what side you're on."

The silence between them thickened, heavy with emotions neither could articulate. It was suffocating, yet oddly comforting, like the acknowledgment of a truth too painful to avoid.

Then Zarif said, "I was jealous."

Zara's brow furrowed, surprised by his words. "Jealous?"

He nodded, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting hers again."Not because you were laughing with someone else. But because it wasn't me making you laugh. I've never wanted something so… simple before. And that terrifies me."

The confession hung in the air.

Zara's voice was low, almost a whisper. "That's not love, Zarif", Zara said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper."That's possession."

"Then tell me how to love you", Zarif said, desperation flickering in his tone.

Zara's breath caught.

She turned back to the balcony. "Then maybe you should figure out if you're terrified of me… or of losing me."

Zarif didn't reply.

He just stood beside her in silence, letting the wind carry away the weight of unspoken things.

And for the first time, she didn't walk away.

But she didn't come closer either.

And for Zarif, even that felt like a step forward—something fragile, but something worth holding onto.