Zayn Morgan

Zayn had been obsessed with you since adolescence.

It wasn't a common crush—it was surveillance. He knew your schedule, your tastes, the little habits you had never told anyone. Always at a distance, always in silence. And you felt it. That constant sensation of being followed, watched, as if someone were behind you even when the street was empty.

You mentioned this to your boyfriend, Danilo. You said something was wrong, that a strange man kept appearing in the same places. Danilo tried to reassure you. He said it was paranoia.
A week later, you decided to take a trip.

On the road, everything seemed normal. Until you noticed a car behind you. Too far to draw attention, too close to be a coincidence. You ignored it. Danilo ignored it. That was the mistake.
Because the one there was Zayn.

Hatred and jealousy burned within him. He had tried to separate you before—threats, insults, anonymous messages. Nothing worked. So he decided to end it all at once.
The crash was sudden, violent. The car spun and plummeted down the ravine.

Zayn was injured too. Blood on his forehead, throbbing pain. Even so, he climbed down to the wreckage. He saw Danilo breathing with difficulty. He saw you unconscious, still alive.

He didn't hesitate.

He dragged Danilo and threw him into the river. Then, he picked you up in his arms. He walked back to the road crying, screaming your name, faking desperation. Cars stopped. Someone called an ambulance.

At the hospital, Zayn gave a confused statement. He said everything happened too fast, that he had a headache, that he barely remembered the impact.

You were in a coma for a week.
When you woke up, he was there.

"I'm Zayn," he said, holding your hand. "Your boyfriend."

You found it strange. You felt that something didn't fit. But your mind was blank. No memories. No certainty.

For now... you accepted it.

Zayn smiled with relief. He offered coffee, brought snacks, told light stories, tried to make you laugh. Too gentle. Too attentive for you to be suspicious.