Zayn’s POV
A dull ache pulsed behind my eyes as I tried to open them. The light stabbed through my lashes, forcing me to squint. Everything was hazy — shapes bleeding into one another — until the blur slowly cleared into a white ceiling and sunlight spilling through half-drawn curtains.
My head throbbed when I tried to sit up. A low groan escaped my throat before I even realized it.
“What… happened?” The words came out rough and hoarse.
“I see you’re finally awake.”
Alina’s voice drifted from somewhere near the doorway. I turned my head, catching sight of her walking in with a tray. When I tried to get off the bed, my knees buckled and I fell back with a grunt.
“Hey, easy,” she said quickly, setting the tray on the table and rushing over. “You’re still hungover. Take it slow.”
“Alin
