Be my Girlfriend

Zina burst into Hana's room like a bat outta heartbreak, slamming the door behind her.

Hana, lounging cross-legged on her bed, paused mid–nail stroke, bottle of emerald polish in hand. "Whoa. Did you just run from a war zone? Or worse… feelings?"

Zina stood frozen, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, like she'd just been chased by ghosts—and maybe she had.

"We… kissed," she breathed out.

Hana's jaw hit the floor. "SHUT. UP. Flick my bean and tickle my fancy—you did not."

Zina frowned. "What does that even mean?"

Hana waved it off, eyes gleaming. "Whatever. So?! You and mister assassin-daddy finally locked lips?!"

Zina threw her hands up, storming across the room. "We kissed… then he stopped! Just—stopped! Right when it was getting hot."

Hana blinked. "Wait… what?"

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Zina groaned, pacing like a broken record on caffeine. "I literally climbed onto his lap like an idiot and I just—I wanted him. So badly. Like my whole body was screaming for him. And I don't know why!"

She collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in a pillow. "I'm not even that kind of girl. I don't just throw myself at guys, Hana. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Hana stared at her, then set the polish aside gently. "There's nothing wrong with you, Zina. You're not crazy."

Zina peeked up, hair wild around her face. "Then why the hell do I feel like I am?"

Hana exhaled, voice softer now. "Because your love for him didn't just start tonight. It's been burning in you for years. It never stopped, even when he left. That fire? It was just waiting for a spark."

Zina's lips trembled. "But he just got back, Hana… what if this is just hormones? What if I'm confusing everything?"

Hana tilted her head. "Zee… this isn't some summer fling. He was your best friend. Your first love. You were never strangers. You were just… unfinished."

Silence. Thick, warm, uncomfortable.

Zina sat up slowly, voice raw. "He said… he couldn't. That not like this. That he wants to be my first, my last… but not in chaos. Not while we're running. And I get it—I do—but why does that make me feel like the broken one?"

Hana leaned over and smacked her lightly with a pillow. "Because you're a human being with a vagina and a heart, babe. Your hormones just got into a bar fight with your emotions and neither side knows what's going on."

Zina laughed through her tears, shaking her head. "God, I hate you."

Hana smirked. "And yet, here we are. Now lie down and overthink everything while I finish painting these claws."

††††††††††††††††††††††††††

Later that night, Malik sat alone in the dark kitchen, the dim laptop screen casting a ghostly glow over his tired features. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving, as steam curled from a forgotten coffee mug.

The news recorded both Zina and her roommate Hana missing. Possibly dead. Declared dead. Good.

Stay dead, he thought coldly, shutting the lid and leaning back with a sigh. He couldn't sleep. He thought he'd outgrown them....but he didn't. His body ached from the recurring nightmare—the same blood, the same screams, the same image of Neve dying in his arms.

And then… footsteps.

She padded in quietly, barefoot and sleepy-eyed, her pink hair still damp and smelling like cherry vanilla soap. She wore his oversized T-shirt, hanging off one shoulder, paired with boxer briefs that looked way too tempting for 3am.

He didn't look at her. "Don't turn on the light," he murmured.

She paused mid-step, hand on the switch, then let it fall. "You okay?"

"Hmm?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

She walked closer, hesitating by the counter. "Why are you awake?"

" I could say the same for you " he countered

"I asked first "

He sighed."I couldn't sleep. I have.... nightmares sometimes. Of um.....the last after the place crash."

She softened looking at him."Wanna talk about it?"

"God no, please. Leave it be im okay" he smiled shaking his head."Your turn"

"I wanted ice cream," she said, glancing away.

"At 3am?" he quirked a brow.

She shrugged, hugging herself. "Comfort food. Also… I couldn't stop thinking."

He finally looked up. His eyes flicked over her face. "About earlier."

"Yeah…" she whispered.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let's not do the awkward sorry dance."

"No," she said gently, moving toward him, "but I need to say it anyway. I was frustrated. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

He stared at her for a moment, then reached out, pulling her between his knees and hugging her tightly to his chest. Her hands instinctively slid around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry too," he murmured into her shirt.

She leaned her forehead against his. "Can I ask something?"

"Shoot."

Her voice trembled. "Why… don't you want me?"

He pulled back slightly, looking at her like she'd grown a second head. "Neve," he growled, voice low. "I want you so bad it's eating me alive. But I don't have standby pills here, and when I finally take you—I'm not pulling out. I want to fill you up. Every drop. But I can't get you pregnant, not like this."

Her cheeks flushed so hard she thought she might combust. "You… don't want me to carry your child huhn," she said with mock offense.

He huffed a dark chuckle. "Don't say dumb shit. I've imagined it a thousand times. You, round with my kid… you'd be so beautiful, pink hair messy, waddling around pissed off at me—"

"Okay stop," she squeaked.

"I'm serious," he said, deadpan. "I wasn't joking."

Her heart pounded. "You can't impregnate me when you haven't even asked me out."

He blinked. "Oh. Right." He took her hand, brought it to his lips, kissed it softly. "Been dying to ask you this since forever but… Neve, will you be my girlfriend?"

Her brain short-circuited.

"I—wait… what?" she blinked rapidly, heart leaping into her throat. She searched his face for a smirk, a joke. None. Just those serious, dark eyes.

"Simple yes or no," he whispered, brushing his nose against hers.

"Yes," she breathed, before her mind could interfere. Her chest fluttered like a goddamn hummingbird.

He kissed her softly, reverently, lingering like she was made of something sacred.

"You're mine now," he whispered. "Forever."

She leaned back a bit, brow furrowed, unsure. "Wait… Malik… do you even like me?"

He froze.

Then he leaned back, deadpan. "Are you fucking with me now? What did I just.....Do you really want to go over this again?"

"Answer the question."

He scoffed. "Yes. I've liked you since day one. Since the damn day I met you. Do you think I'd kiss you, touch you, nearly lose my mind over you… if I didn't?"

Her entire face turned cherry blossom red. She hid in his hoodie collar. "I like you too…"

"I know."

She peeked up. "How?"

He smirked. "Hana."

"…She died didn't she?"

"Swore on her ancestors she'd kiss you if you didn't tell me soon," he said dryly. "Girl was ready to square up with destiny."

Zina let out a shaky laugh, tears clinging to her lashes. "She's the worst."

"She's your worst. And I'm your Malik," he murmured.

Her heart shattered in the best way possible. "I don't want ice cream anymore."

"Good. I never had any."

She grabbed his hand. "Come to bed."

"We'll just sleep?" be hesitated

"Swear."

Later, they lay tangled together. Her fingers combed through his hair as he rested his head against her stomach. He breathed slow, deep, safe.

And for the first time in six years… he slept.