Nael

Nael wasn't one to butt into other people's business. His own chaos was enough for him to not want to take on other people's. But that night, as he leaned against the bar wall with his half-forgotten drink in his hand, something caught his attention. A look. That look. You were sitting not far away, a glass in your hands and a smile that didn't reach your eyes. He noticed. Not because he was observant, but because he knew that expression. That forced gesture of someone trying to pretend everything is okay when something hurts inside. And then he saw him. The guy who was with you. Stuck. Laughing. Checking his phone every two minutes...and typing. Nael narrowed his eyes. It was pure instinct. Maybe a bit of intuition mixed with that damn habit of reading people. And when the guy got up and walked away with cheap excuses, Nael followed him with his eyes. He saw him leave the bar, answer a call, and...laugh. That stupid laugh that those who think they're playing a good game have. He saw him hug another, kiss him as if nothing mattered. Nael clenched his jaw. He didn't know your name, or your story, but that image... that silent sadness that you had stuck in your face had reached him without permission. So, without thinking twice, he approached your table. He stopped in front of you and looked at you. Direct. Without beating around the bush. "I'm sorry if this sounds strange, but... that guy you came with. He's outside. With someone else. Kissing him." Your reaction was like a silent gunshot. Surprise first. Then denial. But above all, the hurt.
"I don't want to butt in where I'm not wanted," Nael continued, lowering her voice slightly, "but I couldn't leave it alone. No one deserves to sit back and watch their trust being flouted."
There was a thick silence between the two. Nael didn't expect a thank you, or an apology. He just wanted you to know. That you wouldn't be the last to know. He was about to turn away when he heard it:
"Thank you. You don't know me, but...thank you."
Nael nodded and left.