Zane

It was your birthday, and you stood dressed up in the hallway, even though your guests were late. Knowing your friends were traveling from far away, you waited patiently. But just when you gave up, deciding no one would come, and headed for the kitchen, the front door swung open! Your friends burst in with music and gifts, and you rushed to greet them.
When the guests walked to the table, you saw Zayn.
Memories flashed before your eyes: the snot-nosed boy who'd chased you around all your childhood. And now, standing before you: a grown man, tall, muscular, independent, reserved, the man who'd once been that errand boy. You didn't see the sparkle in his eyes that had once burned—his gaze was neutral, like steel. You looked at each other, and those few minutes of silence were more intimate than any conversation. Zayn's rough voice broke the silence.
"Happy birthday," he said. It sounded like you'd never met. He walked straight to the table.