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4.

The campfire flickered in front of me, its warmth a stark contrast to the icy tension building in my chest. The other figures around the fire seemed distant, their voices low, as if they were a world apart. The crackling of the flames, the rustle of the trees, the distant sound of a river flowing — everything faded into the background.

My breath hitched in my throat when I saw him through my mask.

He stood there, tall and confident, his presence unmistakable. His figure cut through the darkness, as if the night itself bent around him. The firelight danced across his face, illuminating his sharp jawline and the intensity in his eyes.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced, reeling, trying to catch up with the wave of memories crashing down on me. The past, all the pain, the hurt, the betrayal — it flooded me in an instant. Every moment we had shared, every word, every glance, rushed back in a heartbeat.

His gaze locked onto mine, and the world around me vanished. I was the only one at this party wearing a mask, so that must be very odd.

I wanted to look away, to break the connection, but I couldn’t. Those eyes — that intensity. They were the same. They had always been the same. And in that moment, I was paralyzed, trapped in the past.

Everything I had tried to bury, every lie I had told myself, every part of me that had been buried under the weight of years of running and hiding — it all came rushing back.

I knew I had to speak, to tell him that I had found him, that I had finally tracked him down. It was the reason I was here, wasn’t it? I had to let them know that I had found him. But somehow, in that moment, my voice failed me. I stood frozen, watching him with a mixture of fear, anger, and confusion.

Why can't I speak?

The silence between us stretched, unbearable, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. And then, as if he could sense my turmoil, his gaze softened for a fraction of a second. It was fleeting, but it was enough. Enough for me to feel the weight of his presence all over again.

I clenched my fists, willing myself to speak. Just say it, Zephyr. Tell him you found him.

But the words were trapped, lodged deep in my throat.

Suddenly, I saw him tilt his head, his gaze still locked on mine, studying me in a way that sent chills crawling up my spine.

He broke the silence first, his voice like a low murmur, a dangerous calmness that made my heart beat faster.

“Who is she?” I heard he ask a guy beside him, the words carrying a weight I hadn’t expected. My heart was numbed with bitterness. He didn't recognize me or see a trace of familiarity from me. I don't know whether I should be happy or sad.

“I never saw her before.” The guy beside him replied.

I wanted to respond, but the words caught in my throat. I couldn’t even breathe properly. There he was, standing in front of me, and yet I couldn’t find the strength to speak. It was as if the air had thickened around me, making it impossible to move.

And then, without another word, he began to move. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped away from the fire and started walking toward me.

Panic surged through me, my pulse quickening. I instinctively stepped back, my body betraying my thoughts. I was supposed to confront him. I had to. But fear gripped me, suffocating me with its icy fingers.

No. No, don’t back away.

I reminded myself, forcing my feet to stay rooted to the ground. You have to face him. You’ve come this far.

But even as I told myself that, the fear was still there, crawling under my skin. I had to hide it. I had to pretend it wasn’t there. I had to wear the mask I had perfected over the years, the one that shielded me from everything — from everyone.

I straightened up, forcing my shoulders back. My mask was in place, my expression blank. I forced myself to look at him, to stand tall. But no matter how many times I told myself to be brave, no matter how many times I reminded myself why I was here, the fear was still there, lurking beneath the surface.

He was so close now.

The tension between us was palpable. I could feel his presence radiating like a heatwave, surrounding me. And yet, in all that intensity, all that power, there was something else — something familiar.

He stopped just a few feet away from me. His eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, it felt like he could see right through me. Like he could strip away all the layers, all the walls I had built.

“Hey,” he said, his voice so low it almost made the air shiver. “Can you show me your invitation, please?"

I swallowed hard, the sound of his voice digging into me like a wound that would never heal. “I forgot it back home." I said before I could stop myself, the words tumbling out before I could think them through.

"Well, then it's a problem." He muttered.

He smiled, the slightest quirk of his lips, but there was no humor in it. “No one is welcome here without an invitation." His words were a sharp reminder of the history between us, the things we had shared, the things I had tried so hard to forget.

“I—” I began, but the words faltered again, trapped in the whirlwind of memories and emotions.

He didn’t move, his gaze never leaving mine. I could feel the weight of his stare, the heat of it, and it made me want to run, to turn and flee. But I couldn’t. I had already come this far. There was no turning back now.

For the longest time, we just stood there, looking at each other in silence. The fire crackled behind me, but I couldn’t focus on it. I couldn’t focus on anything except him.

Why am I still here?

The thought echoed in my mind, a sharp, painful reminder of everything I had tried to bury. The reasons I had left. The reasons I had come back.

“I am sorry, but you had to leave” he said suddenly, his voice almost soft.

My breath hitched on his words.

“Please,” I said, my voice trembling despite the mask I wore. “I want to be here.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “but rules are rules.”

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. How the hell did I let the idiocity get the best of me?

The fire crackled between us, the smoke rising into the night air, carrying with it the weight of everything unsaid.

I took a deep breath, and turned around. Fear getting the best of me as I chickened out from here.

Suddenly, pain burst into my skull and I realised I was hit on my head.

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