vii. FALLING OUT

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CHAPTER SEVEN: FALLING OUT

❛i wish we met before they convinced you life was war.❜

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The sea was crashing peacefully against the sandy shore that night. The breeze was gentle and warm, caressing Zoya and Julian's cheeks in a pleasant manner. The sky was a curtain of darkness, lit by thousands of speckles of milky colored sparks.

Washed in a pale waves of moonlight, the boy and the girl had their feet firmly tucked in the sand, gazing at the dark horizon. The two were seated next to each other, embraced in a veil of nerve-wrecking silence.

Few hours had passed from the moment Julian Blackthorn had shown up at Zoya's door, dressed in a pair of old blue jeans and a burgundy shirt that fit him perfectly, demanding that the girl accompany him in watching the sun rise.

It was far too early when Julian asked that of her, merely minutes after midnight. An aroma of uncomfortableness lingered in the air around them, but Zoya didn't think about it much. Whenever she needed Julian, the boy was there - not wasting a moment in helping the girl out. Zoya thought it was only fitting for her to return the favor, despite her mind warning her to stay within the four walls of her room.

Zoya knew she had wanted to be there for Julian, especially when it was so obvious to her that something was wrong with the Blackthorn boy. It could be seen in the way he carried himself; with a smile on his face, but sagged shoulders. He was a good pretender, offering everyone a confident demeanor, but when they turned their heads - his true feelings would pour out. A wide smile would shrink to a frown and his lively blue-green orbs would dull, as if all the colors were wiped away with an invisible brush.

But Zoya was smart enough to let her eyes linger on the boy just a moment longer. A tiny moment when she would witness the great walls of his fortress breaking and his worried soul escaping the cells that kept it a prisoner.

It was a sorrowful sight, indeed. Watching the strong boy fall apart when he thought no one was looking.

Zoya thought that was the reason she didn't dare interrupt the silence that was wrapped around them like a thick cloak. She thought that if she were to speak, Julian would somehow become cold to her. Maybe he would even try to push her away.

Zoya didn't want that. She had wanted to be allowed in; she had wanted to know what were the terrible secrets that kept Julian's heart awake at night. What were the unspoken words that managed to change his behavior after his return from London? Was there something he was not telling her?

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