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The evening air was calm, quiet… almost too quiet.

Zayn and Rhys had just finished dinner at a quiet restaurant, still laughing over something ridiculous Rhys had said about their professor’s toupee.

They were walking back toward the parking lot when

SCREECH.

A black van stopped just ahead, its tires screeching as the door flung open.

Before either of them could react, four men in masks jumped out.

“What the hell?”

“Rhys!” Zayn shouted, as two men grabbed Rhys by both arms.

“Let me go! Hey!” Rhys struggled, kicking, but one of them slammed a fist into Zayn’s gut, sending him to the ground with a choked cry.

“No ....let him go! Rhys!”

Another punch landed across Zayn’s jaw, blood filling his mouth as he shouted, crawling after the van.

“Rhyyyyys!!”

The door slammed shut.

The van peeled away into the night.

Zayn tried to stand, body trembling, blood running from his lip when suddenly.

“Zayn!”

He turned.

Elior. Running toward him, breathless.

“What happened? Zayn what happened?!”

“They they took Rhys!” Zayn gasped, grabbing onto Elior’s arm. “Some men......four....black van......please...We need to find him!”

Elior didn’t hesitate.

“Come on!”

They jumped into his car, Elior slamming the gas pedal so hard the tires screamed.

He dialed a number quickly, his voice cold and sharp. “Track that van. Now.”

Within minutes, they were racing through side streets and alleyways until the GPS beeped location found.

They reached an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city.

Zayn jumped out the second the car stopped. “Rhys! RHYS!”

Inside, dim lights flickered. Zayn’s heart was pounding as he spotted Rhys.tied to a chair, face bruised, blood on his lip, breathing heavily but alive.

He ran toward him, but a knife flashed held at Rhys’s throat.

“Back off!” the man snarled.

Zayn froze.

“Please,” he whispered. “Let him go. Please.”

Footsteps echoed behind him.

Elior. Calm. Cold.

“What do you want?” Elior asked, stepping forward.

“Money,” one man barked. “And if we don’t get it.”

“How much?” Zayn interrupted, his jaw clenched. “Name it. I’ll give you anything. Just leave him.”

But the leader smirked darkly. “You’ve got plenty of money, right? Why not sell yourself instead?”

Zayn flinched.

But before the words even fully landed

CRACK.

Elior’s fist met the man’s face with brutal force.

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that.”

Zayn’s eyes widened.

Then all hell broke loose.

Elior moved like lightning, rage in every motion one by one, he beat them down. Brutal. Efficient. Unapologetic.

Zayn had never seen anything like it.

When it was over, the men were groaning on the floor, and Elior calm again pulled out a phone.

“Clean this up,” he said to someone. “And make sure none of them come near any of us again.”

Then he turned to Zayn, who was already untying Rhys with shaking hands.

“Rhys,” Zayn whispered. “You’re okay.... you’re okay…”

“I’m fine,” Rhys coughed. “I’m okay, Zayn…”

They got Rhys into the car, and Elior drove them straight to Rhys’s apartment.

---

Later, Zayn was cleaning Rhys’s wounds, silently dabbing a bruise on his cheek.

His eyes welled with tears. He kept his head down.

“You should rest,” he said softly, voice breaking.

Rhys touched his wrist. “I’m okay, Zayn. I promise.”

Zayn nodded, standing slowly. His hands were still trembling.

He stepped out into the hallway.

Elior was waiting there.

“Thank you,” Zayn said quietly. “Thank you so much… I don’t even know what to say.”

Elior shook his head. “It’s not a big deal. Rhys is also my friend. And you…”

He looked directly at Zayn, voice lowering.

“…you’re more than that.”

Zayn blinked.

Elior stepped forward and gently pushed him onto the sofa nearby. He opened the first aid kit again and started dabbing the small cut near Zayn’s lips with ointment.

“You’re bleeding,” he said softly.

Zayn just stared at him, eyes wide.

“…What are you looking at?” Elior asked with a faint smirk.

Zayn’s voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing.

It was everything.

---

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