Not just his gaze but his whole body. A faint tremor ran through him. His fist clenched hard on the table, and he pressed his AirPods, whispering something, but his eyes never left mine.
The longer I held it, the walls I’d built inside myself gave in, leaving me lost within his depths. My heart refused to calm, and with effort and stiffness, I tore myself away, forcing focus on Aditya’s voice again.
Focus, Tshabina. Focus.
I tried, I really did, but his eyes cut through me, beneath my skin, exposing me.
“As we know, next week’s press conference between INDTV Group and PT Artamain will officially be held. However, yesterday’s issues with INDTV may affect—” I needed to focus. But Aditya’s words slipped past, fading away...
Forcing down the lump in my throat, I looked again. He was still watching me—his gaze deeper, warmer. I held it for a moment too long, searching for the real him.
Which one was the real Zioh? He was like a puzzle I couldn’t solve.
How many pieces had I gathered to understand him? And how, when he never gave them? Or worse. When he burned the pieces, he scattered them so I could never find them.
He was so gray.
But perhaps it didn’t matter now, because it was all over.
I held my breath.
My body tightened when my leg beneath the table met the hard touch of leather from across me. My eyes flew open, wider, locking onto Zioh’s gaze, one that didn’t seem to leave me even for a second. I jerked my leg back, but every retreat was answered by his leg moving closer, until ourshoes brushed against each other. That small contact sent electricity through my body, thickening and quickening my pulse.
“Tshabina?” Aditya’s call jolted me back. I blinked at him, then around. Every pair of eyes in the room settled on me. Even Andi’s face asked what was wrong. Crap, I’d missed his question. Flustered, I looked at him again, and he studied me, then spoke. “Would you share the idea you told me last night? It was good.”
His words made every eye turn to me. My harsh breath worsened, and my heart pounded faster under their judging stares. Aditya had indeed called me last night, and we’d discussed strategies. But—
Of course. No one else knew about my new position. Not even Andi—
Stay calm—I couldn’t. Their eyes burned into me, and my pulse raced with sickness and nausea. Sweat chilled my skin. What should I do—
“What you suggested last night was good, Miss Tshabina.” My mind stalled, stunned. I must have misheard, but the voice spoke again. “Your idea for social media games and giveaways was solid, distracting public focus. And your suggestion to showcase Artamain’s community events was strong too. Good work, Tshabina.” His voice was calm and soft. Steadying.
Zioh.
My heart nearly burst. A shiver of warmth spread through my veins, and my eyes blurred, weakened by what he did.
He was lying. He hadn’t spoken to me last night; even Aditya’s shocked face proved it.
But the others shifted, reassured, returning to normal. Because Zioh’s presence carried weight and pressure, no one dared cross. Their glances at him flicked away quickly.
This situation made me realize how weak I was and was always too guided by feeling. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop it.
Because when my eyes met his dark brown eyes again, warmth rushed through my heart. Calming the nausea, the chaos, and replacing it with sorrow and longing.
And memories. I remembered, back then, Zioh always defended me. He even fought a senior classmate on my behalf. I’d never told anyone how one of my upperclassmen had stolen my bag and hidden it in the storage room for weeks. One day, while walking with Zioh, I was startled to catch sight of him playing basketball. I didn’t flinch and only stared at him for a few seconds, and suddenly, a fight broke out because Zioh went straight for him, his fists flying.
So, if anyone asked, even if Andi raged, why couldn’t I let go so easily? It would take thirteen years to explain and thirteen years for them to walk in my shoes.
Our eyes melted together again until Aditya’s voice broke it. “You’re available, right, Tshabina?”
I frowned.Available?For what?
“You can accompany Mr. Zioh Danudara to finalise the content brief for next week’s speech, right? The points you told me last night, share them with him. I’ll be traveling again, so I’ll entrust it to you as deputy head of media communication for this project.”
I stared around, unable to move.
Eyes turned on me, skeptical and curious. Even Andi gaped, mouthing, “What the fuck?!”
