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the hidden seen

Title ;

THE HIDDEN SEEN WHEN ZAYDNE BOUGHT NALA BACK AND SHOOT KHAI .

"The Fire Beneath the Ashes"

The rain hit the windows like bullets, a storm outside mirroring the one inside.

Zayden slammed the door behind him, dragging Nala into the penthouse like a ghost tethered to his soul. Her wrist was still in his grip, damp and cold, but he wasn't squeezing it anymore. Not like before.

He let go of her suddenly, as if her skin burned him, and shoved her toward the bed.

She stumbled back, landing on the edge of the mattress, breathless and shaking. Her soaked clothes clung to her like regret, and her hair stuck to her cheeks. But her eyes—her eyes didn't flinch. Not from him.

Zayden paced the room like a storm on legs.

"You cried for him," he growled. "For Khai."

Nala stood slowly, her voice low but unwavering.

"You shot him, Zayden. What was I supposed to do? Smile?"

He turned sharply. "You shot me, Nala."

She froze.

He jabbed a finger into his side. "Right here. A clean shot. You didn't hesitate."

Her throat closed. She remembered that moment. The panic. The trigger. The blood. And the face of the man she now couldn't stop thinking about in the quietest corners of the night.

"I didn't know you then," she whispered.

"And now?" he shot back. "Do you know me now? Or am I still the enemy? The son of the people your family murdered?"

The air crackled between them, heavy with history and unspoken truths.

Tears rimmed her eyes, but she held them back. "I don't know who the real monster is anymore. You… me… or the people who turned us into weapons."

Zayden stopped moving. His chest rose and fell like he'd been running from something only she could name.

"You were the bullet in my chest long before you pulled that trigger," he said softly.

Nala stared. Her heart twisted.

"Then why haven't you walked away?" she asked.

He looked at her like she was a question he'd been asking the stars every night.

"Because I don't know how to stop choosing you… even when it kills me."

He turned away, but before he could slip into the shadows of his silence again, she moved.

Her arms wrapped around him from behind. Slowly. Gently. Carefully.

"Then let's hurt… together," she whispered.

---

Days passed. Words didn't heal them. But time softened the edges.

Zayden began leaving coffee on her nightstand.

Nala began sewing the tear in his favorite shirt.

They didn't say sorry.

But they sat closer on the couch at night. They watched the same storm outside the window. They laughed once—awkward, accidental. But it echoed through the hall like something sacred.

She started to see the man beneath the rage.

He started to see the woman beneath the wound.

---

One night — warmth instead of silence.

The fire flickered low. Music played in the background—soft jazz he pretended not to like.

She was curled in his hoodie on the couch, pretending to read a book. But her eyes kept flicking up to him.

He was already watching her.

"Why are you still here?" he asked.

She blinked.

He sounded like he didn't believe he deserved the answer.

She set the book down.

"Because I love the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching. Like you're still holding on."

Zayden stood. Walked toward her slowly.

He sat down beside her, took the book, and tossed it aside.

"I am holding on," he admitted. "To you. Even when I shouldn't."

Nala's voice cracked as she leaned closer. "Then stop fighting me. I'm not your enemy anymore."

His fingers brushed her jaw, tracing the bruise he hadn't meant to cause.

"I've done terrible things," he said.

"So have I," she whispered.

"I wanted to hate you."

"Me too."

They stared at each other, inches apart, breathing the same air.

And then, they kissed.

Not with fury.

Not with pain.

But with the soft ache of two broken people choosing to bleed together.

He laid her down gently this time. No anger. No control. Just trembling hands and slow kisses that tasted like forgiveness.

His forehead pressed to hers.

"If you ever walk away," he whispered, "I'll follow. Always."

Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled with tears in her lashes.

"Then I won't walk away. Not anymore."

---