Irha
Zayyan's been acting weird—off, distant, like there's something gnawing at him that he's trying hard to hide. It's been a week of him avoiding me, brushing me off with the same excuse: "It’s just work." But I know better. I can sense it, the shift in his demeanor, the way his eyes dart away from mine when I try to catch them. Something is definitely wrong, and today, I’m determined to get him to talk.
After finishing up my latest assignment, I head to the kitchen to make pancakes for Arhan. He’s in the middle of his Russian lesson right now, but he’d mentioned wanting pancakes later, so I figured I’d make them myself. The cook had offered, but I insisted—I mean, I might not be a world-class chef, but my pancakes aren’t half bad.
Just as I’m putting the leftover batter in the fridge, Arhan bursts into the kitchen, his Russian teacher, Vlad, trailing behind him.
“Hey, I’m done! Let’s walk in the garden. Wait, what are you doing?” he asks, his eyes lighting up.
“Making pancakes,” I reply, smiling.
“You’re making them for me?”
“Of course.”
Without warning, he launches himself into my arms, his small hands gripping me tightly as he starts to cry.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I-I never had someone other than Daddy do something like this for me.”
My heart squeezes. “Aww, baby, it’s okay. You’ve got me now. I’ll make anything and everything for you.” I kiss the top of his head, and he looks up at me with such joy that I can’t help but smile wider. After grabbing some juice and a plate of pancakes, he dashes off to his room, a bounce in his step that wasn’t there before.
“So sweet of you, Miss,” Vlad says, stepping forward.
“Thank you, Mr.—”
“Please, just Vlad,” he interrupts.
“Well, thank you, Vlad.”
“Are you always this kind to people?”
“Kindness doesn’t cost a thing,” I reply.
“Then please be kind to me and go out with me,” he says, his voice lowering into what I guess he thinks is a charming tone.
Wait, what? Did he just ask me out—out of the blue? “Thank you for asking, but I’m sorry, I’ll have to decline.”
“A beautiful lady like you shouldn’t be single,” he persists.
I’m about to politely shut this down when suddenly Zayyan strides into the kitchen, his presence like a storm rolling in.
“What’s going on here?” His voice is cold, cutting through the room like a blade.
“Uh, nothing, Mr. Muniz,” Vlad stammers.
“Are you making my employee here uncomfortable?” Zayyan’s tone is sharp, leaving no room for excuses.
“No, no, I was just asking if she’s free,” Vlad mumbles, his confidence wilting under Zayyan’s glare.
“Well, good for you, she’s not. And besides, you wouldn’t be able to handle her. What do they say? Oh yes—out of your league.” His words are laced with venom, harsh enough to make me wince on Vlad’s behalf.
Vlad looks like he’s about to cry. Poor guy didn’t deserve that. I mean, Zayyan could’ve handled it better than going full angry bird on him.
“E-Excuse me, I think I should go,” Vlad mutters, edging toward the door.
“Yeah, there’s the door, Vlad,” Zayyan says, dismissing him without a second thought.
They walk to the door, and just when I think it’s over, Zayyan drops the bomb. “And Vlad—you’re fired.”
The door slams shut, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. I whirl around, facing Zayyan, fury bubbling up inside me.
“What the hell was all that about?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Yes, nothing.”
“Is this the only word you’ve got in your vocabulary lately?” I snap. “You’ve been acting like this for a week. What’s going on?”
“Might be,” he says, his voice maddeningly calm.
“Oh yeah? Maybe I should have Vlad tutor you instead of Arhan—expand your vocabulary a bit.”
“Don’t say his name,” Zayyan growls, stepping closer, “or—”
“Or what? Are you going to fire him again? Oh wait, you already did that. What’s next?” My voice rises, frustration and anger blending into a shout.
His silence is deafening, and before I can stop myself, the words slip out: “Are you jealous, Mr. Muniz?”
“Me? Jealous of that man? Funny,” he snorts, though his eyes tell a different story.
“Then why are you acting like this? What happened?”
“You happened,” he says, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.
I blink, confusion clouding my thoughts. “What?”
“FUCK! YOU HAPPENED”
he mutters under his breath.
“Excuse me? I can't hear you."
He shakes his head, the moment passing as quickly as it came. “Let’s just go. It’s late. You must need rest after a long day. You had a test, right?”
“Yeah, okay, whatever.” My tone is dismissive, but inside, I’m still reeling from his strange behavior.
“Irha.”
“Hmm?”
“It’s nothing, I promise. Don’t worry.”
“Okay, but don’t do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Avoid me. Or ghost me. I don’t know.” The vulnerability in my own voice surprises me, but it’s too late to take it back.
He looks at me, his gaze steady, unwavering. “I could never do that, even if I wanted to.”
We stare at each other, the silence stretching out until it’s almost unbearable. Finally, I break the spell, grabbing my things in a rush. I need to get out of here before my feelings for him overwhelm me. It’s too much, too fast. I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it’s terrifying.
As I walk away, my heart pounds in my chest, each beat a reminder that something is changing between us. And I don’t know if I’m ready for it.
YOU ARE READING
shattered souls By Afsheen k.
RomanceA small smut-free Romance journey. Irha ali Making an easy living after all I've been through was my only goal but he changed everything I thought I am always going to live alone until this caveman shattered my every wall one my one and I'm loving i...
