Chapter 199
In the middle of the night, Zinnia woke up parched. She had left her room earlier to get some water, but never got around to drinking it.
She opened the door and walked toward the kitchen island. Just as she finished pouring a glass of water and turned around, she suddenly spotted a figure by the floor–to–ceiling window. Her drowsiness vanished instantly.
Setting down her cup, she hurried over, calling softly, “Yannis?”
Sure enough, the figure by the window was Yannis. Huddled in the corner, he stared blankly out the window, his usually sharp eyes now so dark that not a glimmer of light remained. He neither spoke nor moved.
Zinnia crouched beside him, calling softly, “Yannis?”
Yannis showed no reaction whatsoever, his gaze unfocused as he stared blankly out the window.
Zinnia followed his gaze out the window but didn’t see anything unusual, just ordinary lights. She called again, “Yannis?”
Zinnia grew worried about his condition. Afraid the alcohol might be making him unwell, she gently reached out to feel his forehead, then his cheek. The sobering soup worked. His skin felt cooler now, and the feverish heat had faded.
Perhaps Zinnia’s touch had roused him slightly, as broken, barely audible murmurs escaped his lips: “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”
Yannis’s forehead rested against the cold glass window, with city lights outside casting shifting patterns across his face. A corner of the sheer curtain fluttered, scattering mottled shadows.
His hair hung limply over his brow, adding an unguarded vulnerability to him. If one looked closely, his whole body was trembling slightly.
Zinnia’s heart clenched at the sight. She had never seen Yannis look so broken, as if abandoned by the whole world. “Yannis,” she murmured, alarmed by his condition. She reached out and held his hand, his knuckles white from gripping too hard.
As soon as Zinnia touched his hand, a sudden force pulled her into a tight embrace. A faint whiff of alcohol lingered around her. Zinnia froze, too stunned
to react.
Yannis rested his head on Zinnia’s shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, like a wounded lion cub seeking comfort and protection.
Zinnia froze for a moment, then slowly wrapped her arms around his waist, gently patting his back.
Yannis’s broken, pain–choked whispers reached her ears: “Lot.
unbearable anguish.
t her go, take me instead. I’m begging you. Don’t leave me.” Each word was laced with
Seeing Yannis so dependent and vulnerable pained Zinnia. An inexplicable tightness settled in her chest. She thought, ‘He shouldn’t be like this.
As the golden boy he is, the word “beg” would never have crossed his lips. Yet now, out of his mind, he pleaded.‘ Zinnia could sense the profound anguish laced in his low whispers.
Zinnia knew Yannis was at his most vulnerable now; she mustn’t trigger him, or his psychological trauma would only deepen. Maybe that was the root. cause of his chronic insomnia.
Gently patting his back, she coaxed him softly, “I’m not leaving. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”
Yannis’s arms tightened around Zinnia. His eyes unconsciously reddened. A single an aura of anguish and desolation radiated from his entire being.
car fell from the corner of his eye, landing hot against her neck, while
Zinnia felt a searing sensation on her neck, igniting an odd, indescribable feeling she couldn’t quite place. She lowered head to look at Yannis. She found his eyes were rimmed red, his usually dark, impenetrable gaze shimmering with unshed tears.
Zinnia thought, ‘He’s in so much pain. It turns out that behind his ever–present smile, he is hiding a profound suffering no one else could see. Suddenly,
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Chapter 199
she recalled what Sofia had told her that afternoon: Yannis had a hard life.
Realizing this, even Zinnia’s usually slow–to–react heart ached with belated sympathy for him. “I won’t leave you,” she murmured, gently preking his ha
