Zayn’s POV
“What happened to you?” Alina’s voice trembled, fear glinting in her wide eyes. Her gaze darted to my arm, and when she saw the mark, panic flickered across her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, her hand hovering uncertainly before she reached out to touch it.
I caught her hand before she could. “It’s nothing, Alina. Just a little injury,” I said with a faint smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes.
Her brows furrowed, the softness in her face twisting into frustration. “A little?” she repeated, her tone sharp. “How is this little, Zayn? We’ve been apart for weeks, and you couldn’t even tell me you were hurt?” Her voice cracked with anger and something deeper—hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You’re right. I should’ve said something
