Chapter 66: Falling Against All Odds

Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Falling Against All Odds Zayn’s POV I watched Evric leave just now, his sleek car pulling away from my house, the weight of his absence pressing down on me like a physical force. Earlier, I had packed his lunch box, kissed him goodbye, and tried to wave him off as if everything were normal. But inside, I was anything but normal. My mind was spinning, trying to understand the whirlwind of feelings I couldn’t admit even to myself. I reflected on my life, on the words I had sworn so many times: It can never be me. It can never happen to me. I can never fall for a man. I wasn’t homophobic, not at all, but I had built walls around myself, fortified by habit and certainty. I had always thought men weren’t for me. I’d always told myself I couldn’t be in love with a man, that the idea was foreign, impossible. And yet, here I was, breathing and thinking about Evric, replaying every touch, every word, every moment, trying to make sense of it all. In the past Dean had tried to warn me countless times. "Love has no barriers, Zayn. You never know what it’ll do to you until it happens," he had said. Back then, I brushed his words aside, convinced they were just the musings of someone who had seen too much of life. I clung to my certainty: Not with a man. I can never fall for a man. Nantam had been gentle, kind, patient for four years, yet I never felt anything beyond friendship. I assumed then, that no matter how a man treated me, no matter how considerate, how attentive, how loving he was, I could never feel anything deeper. That was my thought. My experiences with Nantam had created a simple equation in my mind: I do not love this man, therefore I cannot fall for men. But Evric... Evric shattered every assumption I had. From the first moment I walked into that room and saw him, my world tilted. His presence was captivating, undeniable. There was a strike in his beauty, not just in the angles of his face, but in the pull he had on my heart, a draw that left me breathless before I even realized it. I told myself it was only about sex, that the feelings were superficial, fleeting. But Evric didn’t just seduce my body, he began to inhabit my mind, to inhabit my heart. The first day I realized it, truly, that I was feeling something for him beyond lust, I cried alone in my room. How could I love a man? I whispered the words into the empty space around me, and they sounded foreign, impossible. Yet the ache in my chest told me otherwise. I took three baths in a row that day, scrubbing away every trace of him on my skin, trying to erase the memory of our intimacy, hoping it would reset my heart. And yet, when he returned, when we met again, I couldn’t resist him. We had sex again, and despite the pleasure, I told myself it was still only for desire. It’s just for sex, Zayn. Nothing more. Nothing to feel. But every time we touched, every time his hand brushed mine or his gaze lingered a moment too long, I felt my heart betray me. He was patient, careful. He noticed when I avoided his eyes, when I looked away during our moments of intimacy. He adjusted, accommodated, reading me, understanding me without needing me to speak. And in that patience, I began to see the truth. Evric didn’t just want my body; he wanted my heart, wanted me to see him, wanted me to feel with him. He had told me once, with that quiet certainty that always made my chest ache, "You crave touch, but you should crave my heart too." I had laughed at first, thinking him naive, a dreamer. But the words had stuck. They seeped into me, slowly unraveling the walls I had built, coaxing me to feel in ways I never had before. That was the day everything began to change. Now, having sex with him, I thought of how much he had given me, not just his body, not just his time, but the way he made me feel alive. How he made my heart race not just with lust, but with love. Each kiss, each word, each touch was a deliberate act to show me that I was wanted, that I mattered. And slowly, I had fallen, not just for the thrill of his presence, not just for the forbidden allure of a man’s touch, but for him. Every day, he gave me reasons to love him. Every time he called me "babe" or whispered "I love you, Zayn," my heart shifted, realigned, and broke all the promises I had made to myself. I had never, in my life, felt like this. I had never fallen so completely, so uncontrollably. Evric was not someone I could deny my feelings for. I loved him. I truly, deeply loved Evric Draeven. And the more I acknowledged it, the more terrified I became. ButI needed time to process it and accept it. Because this love wasn’t just mine to manage, it was a truth I had never faced openly. How could I explain it to anyone else? How could I tell Dean, or my friends, that I had crossed a line I had sworn never to approach? That I had fallen in love with a man? And not just anyone, a man who was famous, rich, and captivating in every way. I remembered the first time I laughed at Nicki, when he had admitted he was in love with a boy then. I had mocked him, lightly, thinking it a joke. He had winced, pained, and told me, "Zayn, whenever love finally comes for you, may it be a man" I had laughed then, dismissive, thinking it nothing more than a curse. Now, if Nicki knew how I felt, if he knew I loved a man, he would never stop laughing. He would shade me endlessly, teasing me for my hypocrisy. And yet, I didn’t care. None of it mattered. I could not deny the truth, not anymore. I had tried to resist, tried to rationalize, tried to tell myself that my walls were enough, that my certainty would protect me. But Evric had broken through them all. Even thinking about him now, the way his eyes softened when he looks at me, the way his voice carries both strength and tenderness, makes me ache. The thought of losing him, of seeing that distance creep back into our interactions, of him questioning our bond, it terrifies me more than anything. He is everything I never knew I could want, everything I never believed I could feel. The thought of facing Dean, of explaining to anyone that I am in love with a man, seems impossible. Dean’s reaction earlier had been shock, disappointment, disbelief, and I understood it. Even I had struggled to process it. But Evric... Evric had never made me feel ashamed for my feelings. He had only guided me, gently, toward accepting the truth I had spent so long denying. I sighed, letting the weight of my emotions settle for a moment. I had fought against this for so long, tried to convince myself that men weren’t for me, that I couldn’t fall for anyone, that it could never happen. And yet, here I was, head spinning, heart pounding, cheeks warm with the thought of him, and the memory of his lips against mine. Every argument, every tension, every moment of distance we had shared, it all came from my fear, my stubbornness, my inability to confront the truth. I had tried to protect myself by pretending, by hiding, by keeping my feelings locked away. But Evric had never hidden. He had never doubted, never wavered. He had only loved, only wanted, only waited. And now, I had no choice but to admit it: I loved him. I can’t help but smile softly, shaking my head at my own disbelief. I am in love with a man. I am in love with Evric Draeven. And it is terrifying, and exhilarating, and everything I never knew I could feel all at once. Dean asked if I was gay... I didn’t know how to answer. All I knew was this: I’m gay with one man, and it can only be Evric. I was still lost in my thoughts when a knock echoed at the door. Knock. Knock. Knock. When I opened it, Dean was standing there