Make My Heart Believe a Lie

Chapter 19

✨Shadows in the Streetlight✨

Flora's Pov

Flora wandered through the quiet town, letting the night swallow her small, deliberate steps. The streets were narrower than she had imagined, paved with uneven bricks that whispered beneath her shoes. Gas lamps flickered weakly, casting wavering shadows that seemed alive, like they were testing her courage. Every corner looked the same as the last, and yet she moved forward, as if the act of moving itself could keep the fear at bay.

She did not have a plan. She had nothing to do except observe, to prove to herself she could exist outside the walls of the boardinghouse, outside the cages that had defined her life for years. She looked at shop windows shuttered against the night, the faint smell of something fried lingering from a late diner, and the empty park benches that looked too comfortable for a stranger like her.

Her bag felt heavier than it should. She adjusted it on her shoulder again, her fingers brushing over the map Floyd had given her.

The paper had creased and bent from her anxious handling, and each fold reminded her of the meticulous instructions she’d followed just to get here. She could retrace any path he had outlined. She could escape.

But her courage wavered, thin as the lamplight above her.

Somewhere, behind the quiet, she felt it. A shift in the air, subtle but undeniable. She stopped mid-step, head tilting. The hair at the back of her neck lifted, gooseflesh spreading across her arms.

Someone was watching.

The shadows between the buildings thickened. Flora’s chest constricted. She remembered Trump’s men—the way they could appear from nowhere, silent as vultures circling prey. Her stomach dropped. She had escaped, but she could not outrun the habit of fear.

Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the straps of her bag tighter. She told herself it was her imagination, that she was alone, that she had fled the very people who would hunt her like this.

And yet… the feeling would not leave.

A figure stepped from behind the corner. Just a shape. Not fully seen, but present enough to make her knees wobble.

Her breath hitched.

She started walking faster, heart hammering.

Every step felt loud, echoing in the empty streets. Her mind raced. Could she run? Should she? Did she even know where to go?

A shadow moved in time with her.

Panic flared. Her body screamed with the memory of every time she had been caught before, every time her freedom had been threatened.

“No. Not again,” she whispered, clutching the map tighter, trying to remember every instruction, every safe path Floyd had drawn for her.

The figure quickened its pace.

And just as she felt her fear peak, Nasir was there.

He stepped from the darkness, placing himself between her and the shadow. The figure froze, uncertainty in its posture. Nasir’s eyes met hers—steady, unshakable.

“Flora,” he said softly, voice low but commanding. “Look at me.”

Her body froze. She could not breathe at first, anxiety wrapping her lungs in iron. She wanted to run, wanted to hide, wanted to believe she had imagined everything. But she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

He moved closer, his presence a physical wall against the threat she imagined.

The shadow shifted again, then dissolved. A man, tall and nondescript, melted back into the darkness as Nasir’s gaze pinned him where he stood.

Flora felt her knees weaken, but he caught her arm before she could fall.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, concern threading through the usual calm in his tone.

“I… I’m fine,” she stammered, though her voice was hollow, trembling. Her hands clutched at her chest. “I thought… I thought they found me.”

“They won’t,” he said, more firmly this time.

“Not while I’m here.”

Her fear didn’t immediately dissipate. It lingered, clawing its way through her ribcage.

Her chest heaved, her breaths shallow, as if the air itself had conspired against her.

He took a step closer, lowering his hand to gently rest on her cheek, tilting her face toward his. “Breathe with me,” he instructed quietly.

Her lips parted, and she tried, unsure if she could manage it. His calm guided her, like a steady tide pulling her from a storm. Slowly, the panic began to loosen.

And then—without thinking, without warning—he pressed his lips to her forehead. Just for a second, but long enough to send a shiver through her. The tension that had coiled in her body snapped slightly, unraveling in the warmth of his touch.

“You’re safe,” he murmured. “You’re here. That’s enough.”

Her knees finally gave way, and he caught her completely, his arms a solid wall around her trembling frame. She pressed against him, exhaling a shuddering breath. The streets, the shadows, the imagined hunters—they all fell away.

Her mind spun, torn between disbelief and relief. The familiar surge of fear had been tempered by something else—something that both startled and comforted her.

“You… you don’t understand,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I… I’m supposed to be terrified.”

“You were terrified,” he said softly. “And that’s why I’m here. Now look at me.”

Her eyes met his again. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she believed the words.

“You’re calm,” she said, almost laughing despite herself. “How are you always calm?”

He smiled faintly. “Because someone has to be. Tonight, that someone is me.”

She tried to pull away, embarrassed by the way her anxiety had consumed her. But he only held her steadier.

“You’re allowed to feel,” he said. “You’re allowed to be afraid. But not alone. Not tonight.”

Flora nodded, unable to speak, letting herself be anchored. The panic slowly bled out of her, leaving only a trembling residue. She felt grounded, for the first time in days.

“Come on,” he said finally, guiding her toward the small, dimly lit street behind them. “Let’s get somewhere warm. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can remember what normal feels like.”

Her legs obeyed. Every step she took beside him felt strange and freeing, the city around her simultaneously unfamiliar and intimate.

The streets seemed softer now, the shadows less threatening.

“You saved me,” she said after a few minutes, voice almost inaudible.

“No,” he replied. “You saved yourself. I just… made sure you could breathe while you did it.”

Her chest swelled with a mixture of gratitude and something she did not yet have words for. Anxiety still lingered, of course—it would not simply vanish—but Nasir’s presence had carved a space where fear could loosen its grip.

They stopped at a small corner where the street lamps pooled in weak golden circles.

She watched the light reflect off the wet cobbles.

“You should… maybe go back to the boardinghouse,” he said carefully.

She nodded, but did not move. “I… I don’t want to be alone again,” she admitted quietly.

“You won’t be,” he said. His hand brushed hers. It was small, almost casual, but deliberate. “I won’t let you be.”

Her chest fluttered with something fragile and dangerous. Trust. Relief. Something like longing.

“You… you kissed me,” she said softly, almost laughing. “To calm me?”

He shrugged, the faintest grin tugging at his lips. “Did it work?”

Her laughter came out as a breathless exhale.

“Yes,” she admitted, the words startling her as much as him. “Yes, it did.”

“You’re allowed to admit that,” he said, brushing her hair from her face. “You’re allowed to feel it. All of it.”

She shook her head, still marveling at the way the world could shift in a single instant—how fear could collapse, how one person’s presence could reorder everything.

“And what if…” she hesitated. “What if it happens again?”

“It won’t,” he said. His voice was soft but resolute. “But if it does, I’ll be here. I promise.”

For the first time in a long while, Flora felt something like safety—not the brittle, fleeting safety she’d known in secret corners or locked rooms, but real safety. The kind that gave her courage to exist, even in the dark.

She took a deep breath. Exhaled. And allowed herself to hope that perhaps—just perhaps—tonight was the first night she could start to believe she didn’t need to be afraid anymore.

The streets were quieter now, though the shadows seemed to stretch longer than before, mocking her pace. Flora kept close to Nasir, almost instinctively, as if his nearness created a protective halo. Her bag swung lightly against her hip, but she hardly noticed it. Every nerve in her body still buzzed, the adrenaline from the encounter lingering like a pulse in her veins.

“Are you… always this calm?” she asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was small, tentative.

Nasir glanced at her, faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Do you mean with strangers, shadows, imagined threats?”

“All of it.”

He chuckled softly, a low, warm sound that made the tension in her shoulders loosen slightly. “Not always. But some things… some people, I just can’t let them fall through my fingers.”

Flora frowned, confused by the gravity in his tone. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head lightly. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just… keep walking.”

She complied, though her curiosity flickered like a candle in a draft. There was something about the way he moved—steady, unhurried, deliberate—that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could breathe without thinking she would collapse.

The streetlights cast elongated shadows, painting the cobblestones in streaks of gold and black. Flora’s eyes kept darting to every corner, every narrow alley, even as her body relaxed under Nasir’s subtle presence.

“Do you ever get tired?” she asked suddenly.

“Of… everything?”

“Occasionally,” he replied, voice quiet, almost thoughtful. “But exhaustion doesn’t change what needs to be done.”

She frowned, trying to parse the meaning, but he didn’t elaborate. She liked that about him.

He didn’t fill the silences with unnecessary explanations; he let the moment exist.

“You make it sound so easy,” she said, almost in awe.

He gave her a sideways glance. “It’s not. I just… choose to appear calm.”

Flora laughed softly, a fragile sound, the first genuine note she’d produced since leaving the boardinghouse that evening. “You’re very convincing.”

“That’s my job,” he said lightly, though his eyes lingered on her with something sharper, more attentive than the playful words suggested.

They walked another block in near silence.

The distant hum of a few late-night vehicles and the occasional barking dog punctuated the night. Flora’s pulse slowly steadied, but the memory of the shadow lingered.

“I still feel like… like they could be following me,” she admitted quietly.

Nasir’s gaze sharpened, protective. “Then you’ll walk slower. Or faster. Or I’ll carry you if necessary.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Carry me?”

He shrugged. “I don’t rule out options.”

Flora rolled her eyes, but a small laugh escaped her. The absurdity of the suggestion made her chest feel lighter. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, though it was said fondly.

“I prefer ‘strategically vigilant,’” he corrected.

Her laugh came again, fuller this time. “Strategically vigilant,” she repeated, shaking her head. “I like it.”

They came to a small corner where the night wind caught her hair and brushed her cheeks.

She shivered, but this time not only from fear.

Nasir noticed immediately and offered his coat without asking.

“You don’t have to,” she murmured, though she draped it over her shoulders. The warmth of the fabric, combined with his proximity, was grounding in a way she had never anticipated.

“You should accept small kindnesses,” he said. “They help with the big ones.”

She tilted her head, unsure if he meant something literal or something else entirely.

“And the big ones?”

“They come when you least expect them,” he said softly, letting the words hang between them.

For a moment, Flora almost forgot the night’s earlier terror. Almost. But the memory of shadows, of imagined threats, was still alive in her chest. She exhaled, letting the coat and his calm anchor her.

“You make it all feel… less scary,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Nasir’s eyes met hers, steady and unflinching.

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Flora looked down, trying to tamp down the sudden rush of emotions that clawed at her chest. She had never felt this—this combination of fear, relief, and something dangerously tender. Her pulse was still high, but now it wasn’t just panic. It was anticipation.

They continued walking in silence, allowing the night to stretch and fold around them.

Every step felt deliberate, yet oddly comforting. The town, with its half-finished buildings and uneven streets, had a new texture now. It was no longer just a backdrop for her anxiety. It was a space where something unpredictable—and, she realized, thrilling—could happen.

“You’ll have to tell me your safe route again,” she said finally, breaking the silence. “I need to know where to go if… if I have to.”

Nasir didn’t reply immediately. He simply reached over and took her hand, light but firm. Flora’s breath caught in her throat.

“Not if,” he said. “When. You will. And I’ll be here.”

Her chest constricted with a mixture of awe and embarrassment. No one had ever spoken to her like that before—not with such certainty, not with such quiet power.

“You’re… very confident,” she said.

“I don’t have to be,” he said. “I just choose to appear so when it matters.”

Flora laughed, lightly this time, the sound almost musical in the still night. The tension in her shoulders melted slightly, though her heart continued to beat fast from earlier fear.

They reached the boardinghouse at last. She didn’t want to let go of his hand, but she had to. Standing at the doorway, she felt a pang of vulnerability.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For… everything tonight.”

He stepped closer, lowering his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. “You did fine,” he said softly. “Better than fine. You kept going, even when it felt impossible.”

She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of both her relief and the unexpected intensity of her emotions. “I… I think I’m starting to understand what normal might feel like,” she admitted.

“You’re allowed to,” he said. “And if you ever need someone to remind you, I’ll be here.”

Her pulse fluttered. She nodded, speechless for once. The boardinghouse door loomed before her, but she didn’t feel trapped. Not tonight.

As she stepped inside, the warmth of the building embraced her, and she knew that for the first time in a long while, she was not alone.

And somewhere in the streets outside, under the flickering lamplight, Nasir Darven stayed just long enough to watch her enter, then melted back into the shadows, vigilant and calm, as if he had always belonged there.