She froze mid-step, her mind racing. What was he going to say now?

Her fingers shook, and she felt a bit dazed for a moment. Grabbing the edge of the counter tightly, she turned to look at him, her heart pounding so loudly, thud, thud, thud, that she thought he might hear it. She managed a smile and tried to steady her voice to say, "Yes," but it came out a little shaky.

Zayden looked at her, taking in her expressions without saying anything. He kept his face neutral; he didn’t want to come off as harsh. Being rough with her wasn’t going to help right then. He wanted her to stay, maybe for her own safety, or perhaps his. His eyes softened as he took a sip from his coffee mug, then glanced over at her. It looked like he was searching for the right words. Finally, he said, "Ummm, I wanted to ask you something."

She stepped back a little, her stomach churning. She thought, "This is it. He’s going to bring up the night, the blood, the knife, the intruders. He wants to know who I am." But she kept her smile and swallowed hard, responding, "Hmmm, okay."

Zayden took a step closer, closing the distance between them until he was only an arm’s length away, not too close to make her uncomfortable but close enough that she couldn’t ignore his presence. He set his mug down on the counter with a soft thud.

His gaze locked onto hers, steady and gentle.

Then, he surprised her by asking, "Are you... hungry?"

"...What?" Zeynep blinked, surprised by the unexpected question as her mind raced with the serious stuff she thought he might bring up, but he didn’t

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly feeling a bit awkward. "I mean, for dessert. We still have some fresh berries, and I can make something with them if you want."

For a second, she didn’t know how to respond. She had braced herself for a serious talk, for accusations, for questions she wasn’t ready to answer. And instead, he was asking about dessert?

She let out a shaky breath, almost laughing at how unexpected it was. "Um... dessert?"

"Yeah." He shrugged like it was no big deal. "Or if you’re tired, you can just rest."

Her shoulders relaxed, and the tightness in her chest began to ease. He wasn’t going to grill her right now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"I’m fine," she said quietly. "And I... I’m not really hungry."

He nodded, taking the hint and not pushing it. "Alright."

As she tried to move past him, his hand lifted slightly, not touching her, just asking for a moment.

"I’ll grab the medicine, and your wound..." He paused, that look of concern on his face.

She froze for a second.

Then he clarified, "I mean, your wound needs a dressing. I totally forgot to check on it before the bath."

"Let’s go to the room," he said. "I’ll take care of the dressing."

"No, no, it’s cool. I’m fine, really," she said quickly, her nerves getting the best of her as she rushed out the words.

He paused, giving her a moment to breathe. "Your wound isn’t tiny; it needs dressing, and I know you can’t do it yourself," he said gently, looking right at her with understanding.

She thought to herself, "He’s right; I can’t dress it properly."

Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "Okay."

They both walked toward the room, the dim light creating soft shadows on the walls. As they reached the door, their hands brushed against each other, sending a rush of electricity between them. She took a deep breath, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, revealing a mix of confusion and uncertainty. Then she quickly looked away, her mind racing. "His eyes are so deep and captivating; I feel like I could dive into them," she thought.

Zayden stepped over to the cupboard, moving with a calm purpose. He grabbed the first aid box, the metal latch clicking softly as he opened it, then turned back to her with a serious look.

"Will you sit?" he asked, gesturing to the bed.

His tone was polite and soft, but there was a quiet weight to his words. Feeling the intensity of the moment, she made her way to the edge of the bed and sat down, her heart pounding. Zayden stayed standing, one arm crossed lightly over his body while he held the first aid box in the other. He paused, staring out the window for a moment as if he was gathering his thoughts, then turned back to her.

"You’re safe here," he began, his voice steady.

Hearing that hit her harder than she expected. The word "safe" felt weird and unfamiliar, like it belonged to a different world.

"I don’t know what happened to you, and I’m not going to pry," he said, softening his expression. "But you need to know you’re not alone here. You’re safe now."

She looked down at her hands, feeling that familiar tightness in her throat. Don’t cry. Not again. Don’t let him see you cry. But the warmth in his voice made it tough to keep it together.

"I get that you don’t trust me yet," he added, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. "But I really want you to. I’m here for you." He doesn’t know why he said that, but he said it.

Her heart sank at his honesty.

"I, " she started, but her voice faltered. She quickly turned away, pretending to adjust her sleeves like they were bothering her.

Zayden didn’t push her. Instead, he walked over to the bed and gently set the first aid box on the side table, his expression still kind as he looked down at her, offering comfort without needing to say more.

"I’m not trying to force anything out of you," he said. "Just letting you know that you don’t have to be scared of me."

"I’m not scared of you," she whispered, although her voice shook a bit.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Then what are you scared of?"