I'm sure you've heard a lot about unrequited love, but what if I say there exists an unwilling love, hidden somewhere between the echoes of silence and the whispers of the heart's secrets? A love that fights to stay buried, yet yearns to be discover...
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๑ 🥀 ๑
The night was still, but Zayd's heart was anything but calm. He had searched every possible place-inside the house, the garden, the street outside. Yet, Shayan was nowhere to be found. He wasn't answering calls either. Something wasn't right.
It was only after almost an hour that Zayd found him.
Shayan was sitting on the steps of an old, deserted park near their house. His arms rested on his knees, his head tilted down as if the weight of his thoughts was too heavy to lift. His face was pale, his eyes unfocused-completely lost.
Zayd exhaled, stepping closer.
"Shayan."
There was no reaction.
"Shayan!" Zayd tried again, louder this time.
Shayan flinched slightly, blinking as if he had just been pulled out of deep water. He looked up slowly, eyes meeting Zayd's, but there was something vacant in them.
"What are you doing here?" Zayd asked, lowering himself onto the step beside him. "I was looking for you everywhere." He said, stepping closer.
Shayan didn't react at first. Then, after a long pause, he exhaled deeply.
"I didn't want to be found." His voice was quiet, but there was a bitterness to it.
Zayd sighed and sat down next to him, mirroring his posture. He could tell Shayan wasn't okay.
"It's a lot to take in," Zayd admitted.
Shayan scoffed. "That's one way to put it." He ran a hand through his hair, then shook his head. "You knew, didn't you?"
Zayd didn't look away. "I did."
Shayan let out a hollow laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Of course, you did. And of course, I was the only fool who didn't."
Zayd turned to him, his gaze unreadable. "Shayan-"
Shayan let out a bitter laugh. "You never told me."
"It wasn't my truth to tell."
Shayan clenched his jaw. "That's a pathetic excuse."
"Maybe," Zayd admitted, "but it doesn't change the fact that we are still a family."
Shayan turned to him, eyes sharp. "Family?" He let the word hang in the air, testing it. Then he scoffed again.
"It wasn't my place." Zayd repeated.
"Then whose was it? Huh? Whose place was it to tell me that the brother I've spent my whole life with-he's not even-he's not-" He stopped, voice breaking, hands gripping his hair.
Zayd softened. "Shayan, it doesn't change anything. He is your brother, by blood."
"Doesn't change?" His voice was bitter. "Then why do I feel like everything I've known was a lie?"
