chapter twenty-three

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A/N: This is a random author note, I don't usually do this but I just want anyone who reads this story to know how grateful I am that you're still reading my story. I apologise that it takes so long. I wait for an idea to strike before I write as I don't want to give half hearted chapters. Thank you for being patient and thank you for still reading about Zahra & Ian.

Zahra

Love is a confusing thing. The dictionary definition of if is "an intense feeling of deep affection." or "a great interest and pleasure in something.". I've been loved in my life. My mother loves me beyond limits. I know what love is, and I know it exists but I also know there are many variations to love.

I'm looking up at the man in front of me. His disheveled hair fits him just right, so does his outfit. He's wearing a plain white top with grey sweatpants. I've never seen him so dressed down.

Love "a great interest and pleasure in something".. I look at Ian and I see he's telling me about his day. The awkwardness left awhile ago, we're talking as we did before now. He's smiling. He's smiling so wide and he's so excited telling me about his day that I couldn't help but smile too.

Love: "An intense feeling of deep affection". Isn't the definition too broad? Isn't it too generic? I can't understand my feelings.

When I first stepped out of the bathroom all dressed down with my pyjamas, Ian beams. He beams so wife and he immediately turns away. I catch him doing that alot. He'll look at me, his lips would crack into a small crescent smile and he would stop talking for a few seconds. Not look at me. It's a new habit I've picked up on.

Affection: "readily feeling or showing fondness or tenderness."

As he gently carries both of our dishes to the sink and our arm briefly touch, I realised I at least knew one thing for sure. I was very fond of Ian Sanchez.

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