Zala stood behind the door for a minute that felt like forever. The confidence she had when she followed him seeped out of her like sweat. She nibbled on her lips for so long that they felt raw and almost swollen.
You’d think she was stalling because she was scared to approach the man behind the door.
But it was because she truly didn’t know why she followed him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to talk to him, ask him. Confusion made her hands tremble; an emotion she wasn't used to feeling, being the decisive female she was. But at that moment, she was the definition of a blank page. She knew she wanted to speak to him, but she didn’t know what to tell him. She desired to tell him something… anything.. but she couldn’t form a question to ask him nor a proper sentence to say.
“How
