Unhidden Identity
833 Words
Zed’s POV
She stood, her eyes unreadable. Still caught between disbelief. I waved a hand in front of her face.
“Hello?”
She blinked. “I’m sorry.” I shouldn’t have judged you like that… about your job. I thought you were—” She paused, shook her head, and turned away to reposition the flower vase.
I took a breath, her silence felt heavier in my chest. “When I said I was a worker here, I meant this shop,” I explained.
“It’s my mother’s. My grandparents left it to her after my dad walked out and never came back. Those words were heavier than I thought, swallowed hard, refusing to let the emotion weigh me down.
She hasn’t been herself since. "This shop is the only thing that keeps her tied to him,” I continued. “She can’t work anywhere else… health problems.”
I paced around, wiped the dust on the counter. “So, yeah, I’ve been supporting myself all these years.” We have workers, but they don’t come on Saturdays. I stay here till evening, then head to my night shift.
Her eyes were fixed on mine, not saying anything. “I work as a security worker at a nightclub,” I continued.
“Whatever you’ve heard about me in school—it’s just ego to hide the truth about my identity.”
She sat onto the couch, her expression still unreadable.
Maybe disappointed or pitying. I hated both. I hated to be in that situation.
“That’s why my grades are low... no time for that,” I scoffed.
“My scholarship is now in line.” I poured coffee into a cup, gave it to her. She accepted it quietly, sipping slowly.
I’d never shared this with anyone. But with her, it felt… necessary. Not for the stupid agreement we had, but because I felt warm and comfortable around her.
“I’m sorry, Zed,” she apologized, her hand holding my leg. “I didn’t mean to push you to say things you’d rather keep inside.” But…” she shuddered.
“Tell me the truth—was this why you made me sign that agreement? To use me for your assignments?
I looked at her. “No. Not at first. "I didn’t plan any of this until… the locker room happened.” I responded and took a quick sip of coffee.
She rose, placed the cup on the counter. “Fine.” Like I promised, I’ll help you with the assignments and tests. But once the two months are over—we’re done.”
Then, she began rearranging the flowers on the display. I watched, confused. “What are you doing?”
“Just wait.”
Her movements close to the showroom were deliberate, she adjusted the vases, added little flourishes, and even waved at passersby. Slowly, people stopped. Then they came in. One couple bought two bouquets and another grabbed a vase. Within minutes, the shop was filled with customers.
I hurried to the cashier, barely keeping up with the track and time.
When the rush finally reduced, I stared at the stack of bills at the counter.
I opened the safe, placed everything inside.
I turned to her, grinning like an i***t. “Thank you, Miss Glasses.” I wrapped my arms around her from behind as she smiled but didn’t pull away immediately.
“Why didn’t you sell that one to the couple earlier?” she asked, the moment her eyes saw a sunflower still remaining.
“It’s not for sale,” I said, lifting the spray bottle to mist its petals.
She looked at me, wanting an explanation. “It was my dad’s first gift to my mum.” After she gave birth to me,” I said softly as I continued with the spray.
She only nodded, moving back to the couch.
“You should rest,” she said gently, walking toward the door. “You have night duty.”
I pulled her very close against my chest. Her palm was against it, warm, soft.
We looked at each other, not saying a word to each other, and then she moved back immediately, cleared her throat. “Let’s never… do that.... again,” she stammered, adjusting her glasses.
“I’m sorry,” I said sharply.
She nodded, and moved toward the doorway, "Wait." "Let me at least give you a proper treat,” I uttered.
She raised her brows.
“It's not necessary,” she said quickly. “Just… find BloodZAC27.” she continued, biting her lips.
"I want to know who the impersonator is."
I nodded slowly. “I’m still on it.” But right now…” I stepped closer, my love low.
“It’s about us.”
She blinked thrice. “Us?”
I nodded. “A date. Tonight. "And you’re not rejecting it this time,” I smiled, pointing to her forehead playfully. “It's part of my Rule; no.” Five.”
- Writer
