One night, as Kim and Zain sat in the dim light of the cabin, a knock at the door shattered the fragile peace they had built. Kim’s heart raced as Zain motioned for him to stay quiet, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Zain stood, moving toward the door with a calculated grace. Kim followed, his breath shallow, knowing that whatever happened next would change everything.
The door creaked open, revealing a man in a suit, his expression cold and unyielding.
“You’re running out of time, Kim,” the man said, his voice low, threatening. “You can’t hide forever.”
Kim’s hand tightened around the gun at his side. “I’m not hiding,” he said, his voice sharp, unsteady. “And you won’t get me.”
The man smiled, but it was a smile full of malice. “We’ll see about that.”
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The night was filled with gunfire, the clash of metal and the pounding of hearts in a race against time. Kim and Zain fought together—two forces against the world, bound by something unspoken, something that was more than just survival. It was something deeper, something stronger.
In the end, the safe house was no longer safe. The men came in waves, relentless and vicious. Zain took a bullet for Kim. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
As Zain collapsed, his blood staining the floor, Kim’s world shattered. The men were gone, but the man he had come to care for, the one who had promised never to leave him, was slipping away.
“No,” Kim whispered, his voice broken. “Zain, stay with me.”
Zain smiled weakly, his hand reaching out to grip Kim’s. “I’ll always be here,” he murmured, his voice fading.
Kim’s heart stopped. “No! You can’t leave me!”
But it was too late. Zain was gone.
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The world had always been cruel, always been cold. But in Zain’s final moments, he had shown Kim that there was more than just survival. There was love, even in the most unlikely places.
