Zed winced but didn’t pull away. His fingers still curled loosely around my wrist, tightened just a little.

“Izabella…” he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost pleading.

I froze.

“Just admit it…” Zed said, a cracked kind of desperation in his voice. “I won’t be mad. I won’t say anything. I’m sure you had your reasons… just–”

He swallowed hard.

“Just tell me, Izabella.”

The room went deathly silent.

The only sounds were Zed’s ragged breathing and the way my heart slammed painfully against my ribs.

I could lie again. Pretend again.

But sitting here, with blood on my hands and Zed looking at me like I hung the stars.

Tears blurred my vision as I pressed the gauze harder against Zed’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry…” I choked out, voice cracking, “I’m sorry–”

I shook my head helplessly, the tears falling faster now, dripping onto Zed’s skin.

“I hate love,” I whispered, almost spitting the words out. “So… I looked at your journal, and you liked me…” I paused. “I didn’t want you to like me… I was planning to confess first and thought you’d reject me… but when I saw you liked me, I wanted to hurt you so you’d hate me…”

My hands were steady, trained, methodical–but my heart was collapsing in slow motion.

Zed didn’t say anything at first.

He just let me cry, taking in everything I’d just said.

And then, with whatever strength he had left, Zed lifted his good hand and wiped away a tear off my face.

“You can hate it all you want,” Zed murmured, so softly I barely heard it, “but you can’t stop me from loving you.”

“Why,” I whispered brokenly, hands never stopping as I cleaned the wound, “Why do you love me?”

I pressed the gauze down a little too harshly, but Zed didn’t even flinch.

“I’m a horrible person,” I said, voice cracking again. “I lied to you. I left you. I made you think I was dead. I-I made you suffer.”

The gauze in my hands shook.

“I don’t deserve it. I don't deserve you.”

“You're saying it completely wrong,” Zed said, his voice hoarse but firm, his hands catching my trembling wrist again. “I don’t deserve you, Izabella.”

My eyes widened, breath hitching.

“You’re really a kind person.”

“How? I'm not kind at all…” I mumbled.

“...Well, when I stalked you, I saw all the good things that you did… though you pretend to have this cruel persona, you're not evil at all. I’ve seen the way you make sure kids don’t suffer in the cold; they don’t go hungry… you're just too afraid to show your good side.”

He brushed his thumb lightly against my skin. “And if you were truly horrible… you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Okay, stop your getting corny.” I smiled, wiping my tears. 

“I’ve missed you…” Tears spilled down my face. “Every damn day–I’ve missed you so much it hurt–”

“I know… I’ve missed you too.” his voice cracked.

I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and smacked Zed’s hand from my face.

“I still have to stop the bleeding,” I muttered, my voice rough and uneven.

Zed didn’t argue. He just watched me quietly, memorizing my movements.

“Hold still,” I instructed, pressing a fresh gauze pad firmly against the wound and patting it down with practised efficiency. “Bullet went through clean. You're lucky it didn’t hit anything vital.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time luck’s saved me,” Zed said, trying to smile.

I scowled at him. “Don’t joke.”

I picked up the tweezers. “I’m going to pull it out, okay? I know how to do this. I’ve done this before.”

“Okay… I trust you,” said Zed.