Lana leaned casually against the hallway wall, arms crossed, pretending to scroll on her phone while her eyes tracked the scene unfolding just a few steps away.
Zayn stood near the window, Lena on the couch with one of the babies asleep against her chest. Their conversation was quiet—mundane even—but the tension between them was anything but. The way Zayn’s gaze lingered a second too long. The way Lena’s fingers tightened when he spoke softly to her. The pauses. The almost-smiles. The words left unsaid hanging thickly in the air.
Lana didn’t need to be a genius to see it.
God… they were so obvious.
Neither of them was brave—or stupid—enough to admit it openly, not yet. They danced around each other like they were afraid that naming it would somehow break it. But the feelings were there
