Zhaira slowly opened her eyes and the first face she saw was Azrael's.
"Where… am I?" she asked, her voice weak, still foggy from the events of the day.
"You're at the hospital," Azrael replied gently. "I brought you here because you fainted in the rain."
The memories came rushing back, and tears welled in her eyes. Pain and heartbreak threatened to overwhelm her.
"What happened?" Azrael asked, concern etching his face.
"He… he betrayed me. I saw him… kissing Cali," she sobbed, her voice trembling.
Azrael immediately pulled her into a comforting embrace. "Why don't you choose someone else? Someone who would never hurt you."
Zhaira closed her eyes, understanding exactly what he meant.
Azrael gently held her hand. "I'm right here, Zhai. I would never hurt you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
But Zhaira gently pulled her hand away. "You know I can only see you as a friend, Azrael," she said softly, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
Azrael sighed, knowing he couldn't force her feelings. "I understand," he said quietly, his voice heavy with sadness. "But I'll always stay by your side… especially when you're hurting."
"Thank you," Zhaira whispered, grateful for his presence.
.....
That evening, Azrael found himself at a dimly lit bar, seeking refuge in the noise and the anonymity. His chest ached from being friend-zoned by someone he cared for deeply. He sat at the counter and ordered a drink, only to notice the woman next to him drowning her sorrows in alcohol. It was Cali.
"Haha… so you're here too?" she slurred, raising her glass.
"I'm just here to relax. And you? You seem like you've been through a lot," Azrael replied, calm but watchful.
"Yeah… I failed. I failed to win his heart back. I'm such a fool… a loser," Cali muttered, downing another sip.
Azrael watched her, his heart unexpectedly pounding. Impossible… why was he feeling this way about her?
Cali glanced at him, teasing lightly, "You're pretty handsome, you know?"
Azrael chuckled, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotion.
"Seems we're both heartbroken… maybe we're meant for each other?" Cali joked lightly.
But Azrael's eyes kept lingering on her.
"Why don't we give it a try?" he asked, his tone shifting from playful to serious.
Their eyes locked, holding each other's gaze, hearts pounding in unison. Slowly, they leaned closer, faces mere inches apart. She swallowed hard, her eyes drifting to his lips. His gaze mirrored hers, fixated, tense with anticipation. And then, finally, their lips met in a tentative, electrifying kiss.
.
.
.
Zhaira was packing her things. She was leaving for the province, determined to escape the painful memories. Her phone rang suddenly.
"Hello… Azrael?" she answered cautiously.
"Zhaira… is it true? You're leaving?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied simply.
"But you haven't talked to Enoh yet?" he pressed.
"There's nothing left to say… I've seen everything. He still loves her," she admitted.
"Are you sure? Why not just talk to him one last time?"
"Azrael, I'm busy. We'll talk later when I'm on the bus," she said, ending the call and returning to her packing.
Enoh, meanwhile, drowned his heartache in alcohol. Each sip was a temporary escape from the pain he felt. His phone suddenly buzzed incessantly. He noticed countless missed calls and messages. Azrael's text caught his attention immediately: Zhaira was leaving.
Panicked, he sprang into action, rushing to her apartment. He pressed the doorbell repeatedly, but no one answered. The door was locked. He tried to peek through the window and saw that the place was empty. His heart pounded—she was gone. She had left without saying goodbye.
He bolted from the apartment, determined to search everywhere. He would find her. But he didn't know where to start. Tears streamed down his face. He couldn't live without her; his life would be miserable if he didn't find her.
Amid his panic, the roar of a motorbike caught his attention. It was Azrael.
"Come on! To the bus station!" Azrael shouted.
Enoh quickly jumped onto the bike, and together they sped toward the bus station, hearts racing.
When they reached the station, Enoh's heart pounded as he scanned the crowd. Then he saw her—Zhaira, boarding the bus.
"ZHAIRA!" he shouted, but she didn't hear him. Desperate, he sprinted after the bus, his heart in his throat.
The bus gained speed. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the pavement, fists pounding the concrete in frustration and despair. What he didn't realize was that Zhaira had seen him running and had immediately stopped the bus, stepping off.
"E-Enoh?" she called in disbelief.
As he saw her standing outside the bus, he ran toward her, shouting, "Zhaira! I'm sorry! I need to explain… You've got it all wrong! I didn't kiss Cali!"
Zhaira looked at him, tears streaming down her face. "I… I know. Cali called me while I was on the bus. I'm sorry for getting angry right away," she admitted.
Enoh pulled her into his arms, kissing her lips tenderly. Relief and love washed over both of them.
.
.
.
A few days later, Enoh and Zhaira sat hand in hand on the grassy school field, gazing at the sky above. They had learned that Azrael was now courting Cali, and both felt genuinely happy for them. Finally, they had found their own person. Zhaira rested her head on Enoh's shoulder as they watched the sky, chatting and laughing softly. The field was filled with their sweet laughter, and a sense of peace and contentment enveloped them.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop, Eros watched, scattering red rose petals into the wind, a quiet smile on his face as he observed them.
Enoh held Zhaira close.
"I love you so much," he whispered.
"I love you even more," she replied, her voice full of warmth.
Enoh smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. In that moment, Zhaira felt no fear—she knew with certainty that Enoh would never leave her side.
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The End