The words hung between them like a fracture in glass.
No… it is not ok.
Lena felt her heartbeat stutter.
She had seen Zayn controlled, cold, sharp, amused, even vulnerable in fleeting moments — but this… this tension coiled in his posture, this raw strain in his voice… she had never seen before.
She stepped closer, instinctively, carefully, as if approaching something wounded.
“What happened?” she asked softly. “Is it work? Did something—”
“It is not work.”
The interruption came quickly. Too quickly.
His jaw tightened, and he turned away for a brief moment, dragging a hand through his hair before facing her again.
The distance between them felt charged, alive, fragile.
Lena swallowed.
“Then tell me what is wrong,” she whispered, concern threading through every syllable. “You are
