Better To Die
Her body shivered silently as the hiccups persisted, soft sobs escaping her in uneven intervals. Mira sat in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed out the window, as though hoping to conceal the pain etched on her face. Zamian glanced over, unsure how to handle the tension building between them. She was trying so hard to hide her tears, but he saw through it all—he always did.
With a quiet sigh, he pressed a button on the car's dashboard. A hidden compartment opened, revealing several bottles of water and soft drinks nestled in the cooler. He grabbed a bottle of water and closed the compartment before turning back to her.
"Mira..." he began slowly, his voice cautious, careful not to alarm her. It was as if he feared his words might shatter her fragile state. "Are you okay?"