Zara pov:
Sleep felt like a stranger tonight. The darkness pressed against me, heavier than usual, as if it were alive.
The nightmare came back—hands restraining me, shapes moving too fast to see, whispers echoing just out of reach. My chest tightened, and my throat burned with a scream I couldn't release. The shapes weren't faces. Just shadows, circling, pressing, reminding me of the helplessness I'd once felt.
I jolted awake, gasping. The sheets were damp with sweat, tangled around my body. My hands shook as I clutched them, trying to anchor myself to the real world.
Then I saw it.
A shadow lingered in the corner of the room. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Still. Watching. My stomach dropped. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to throw something, to vanish.
I blinked. Once. Twice. And it didn't move.
I froze, heart hammering so violently it felt like it would burst. My mind scrambled for logic, but fear had stolen my words. Slowly, I edged toward the light switch—and in a blink, it was gone. Just like that. Vanished.
My chest was tight, my pulse racing. Sleep was impossible now.
I didn't even try. Instead, I yanked on leggings and a hoodie, shoved my braids into a messy bun, and slipped out into the night. The air hit me sharp and cold, and I inhaled, letting the chill push some of the fear back. My steps were aimless at first, then I remembered the boxing place from yesterday.
It was still quiet when I arrived. The door was slightly ajar, and a soft light spilled onto the pavement. A few late-night stragglers were packing up, and their eyes lingered on me briefly, curious but nonjudgmental. I felt relief in their indifference.
I headed for the bag I'd hit yesterday, wrapping my hands with trembling fingers. My breathing was jagged as I landed the first punches. Then the second. The sting in my knuckles tethered me to the moment, kept the nightmare from slipping back in.
"Careful."
The voice was calm but carried authority. I froze.
He was leaning casually on the ropes of a ring, arms crossed. Tall. Dark hair, golden-tinted skin catching the dim glow. Bruises along his jaw suggested he had been sparring. But his eyes…they were steady, sharp, and strangely familiar. Not a memory I could place, but a presence I couldn't ignore.
"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep swinging like that," he said.
"I'm fine," I muttered, trying to sound braver than I felt.
"You're not."
He didn't argue. Just a quiet, firm statement that I couldn't deny. My jaw tightened. My hands gripped the bag tighter.
There was a pause as he studied me. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded at the owner, who gave me a knowing glance. "Trouble sleeping?"
I hesitated, then nodded.
"Again?" he murmured, as if reading my thoughts.
Before I could respond, he stepped off the ropes with a smooth, fluid motion. "I'll walk you," he said simply.
"What? No—"
"I know," he interrupted. "But you shouldn't be wandering alone at this hour."
There was no argument in his tone, only certainty. My heart sped up—not just from fear, but something in his presence that kept me rooted to the spot.
I couldn't speak, so I just followed.
The walk was silent at first. My legs moved faster than my thoughts, trying to outrun the unease. He matched my pace effortlessly, long, confident strides, like someone who had trained in disciplined environments—London, maybe? It was in the way he moved: precise, measured, controlled.
"You dropped this," he said suddenly, bending to pick something from the pavement and brushing it off. He handed it back to me.
"Thanks," I murmured, voice barely audible.
We fell into silence again. I felt his gaze on me, but when I glanced up, he was scanning the street instead. Protective? Curious? I didn't know, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.
When we reached the dorm, he stopped a few steps away. "Don't wander alone at night. If nothing else, let me know next time." His eyes caught mine, gold-tinted and serious in the dim streetlight. "Your phone?"
I gave him a puzzled look.
"I just want to add myself on Insta," he explained casually, as if that clarified everything. "So you can reach out if you need."
I shook my head. "I don't use socials. But…you can have my number."
"Good," he said, smiling slightly. "I'm Elio."
"Zara," I whispered, feeling my cheeks heat.
"Good night," he said, turning back into the shadows.
"Night," I breathed.
Alone again, I stepped inside the dorm, chest tight, heart still racing. Sleep wouldn't find me tonight—but at least for now, the shadow of the nightmare didn't feel quite so close.