Capítulo 19: CHAPTER 19: PANDA EYES AND PAPER STORMS: THE UNSEEN BATTLE OF A FASHION DESIGNER

Zarina's home is in Jersey City, New Jersey, United States.

Draymond glanced around the comfy and neat living room. A tearful sound and a woman's irritated voice caught his attention.

He shifted his eyes to the windowpane, where he saw Zarina sitting on the wooden chair, glaring at the piece of paper, and ripped it from her sketchpad.

Draymond could see that Zarina was upset, her brows furrowing and teeth clenching while she took out her frustration on paper.

"Argh!" she exclaimed in frustration, tearing a page from her sketchpad, crumpling it up fiercely, and tossing it into the trash bin.

'She's torn her sketchpad four times already. What a waste of paper,' Draymond thought, his quirky habit of counting things taking over.

Draymond possesses a sharp mind with the unusual ability to calculate and count everything using his senses, whether through hearing or seeing. While some might consider it a gift, for Draymond, it feels more like a curse.

His counting ability and precise measurements turn into a repetitive pattern he can't control.

She dropped her pencil, gripping her hair in frustration, elbow resting on the table. She bowed her head, softly muttering something to herself.

"Hmm... I didn't realize you were having a solo conversation," Draymond remarked in a monotone when he went outside.

Zarina paused, closing her eyes to contain her frustration. Without even looking up, she could tell it was Draymond from the profound sound of his voice.

He's the only man in their house, and Zarina can feel his icy presence, sending shivers down her spine due to her growing annoyance.

"Oh, good Lord, it's too early to encounter a devil," she murmured.

It was Sunday, her day off, but it felt like a workday due to the mysterious client she'd been handling.

Zarina had been sketching on the porch early in the morning, even before the clock struck five. She couldn't sleep last night, haunted by the unfinished sketch she had grappled with for months.

She raised her head and glared at him, "Why are you here? You can't stay; the sun will soon rise, and a cold person like you will melt," she roared, clearly irritated as her brows knitted.

Draymond stared at her with no expression. 'She's not good at joking,' he thought to himself.

He didn't respond to her; instead, he sat on the empty chair before her, crossing his arms on his chest and looking at her with weary eyes.

Draymond's brown eyes met Zarina's sharp gaze, carefully watching her every move and reading her expression.

In Draymond's view, Zarina looked like a panda. She had dark circles around her eyes, her long brown hair was tangled like a bird's nest, and her face seemed pale. It was clear she hadn't slept in ages.

She clamped her lip, trying to contain her growing frustration. She narrowed her eyes at him, silently wishing he'd stop breathing so she could enjoy some peace.

Zarina is generally calm and kind, but she feels an odd sense of annoyance whenever Draymond is around. It's like his presence triggers a hidden button that unleashes her anger.

Her chest rose with frustration when he didn't respond.

After a moment, she spoke up. "What do you want? If you're here to annoy me, save your energy. I'm already annoyed," she said in a low voice, trying to contain her anger.

'Even if I do nothing, my presence can annoy you to the core,' Draymond thought, staring at Zarina blankly.

His eyes wandered to the sketchpad with an unfinished drawing, then shifted to the half-full trash bin filled with crumpled paper—clear signs of numerous failed sketches.

Zarina furrowed her brows, observing Draymond with confusion as his eyes wandered around the porch.

She couldn't help but wonder, 'Lord? Why did our paths have to cross with this weirdo, huh?'

Then, Draymond sighed softly. "Are you struggling?" he asked in a flat tone.

Zarina raised her brows, finding it odd that he asked such an obvious question.

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at him. "Stating the obvious, huh?" she replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Deserved," he replied shortly.

Zarina gasped in disbelief. "You..." She struggled to find words, blinking rapidly to contain her temper. Adrenaline rushed to her face, turning it red. "Are you really that happy seeing me struggle?!" she shouted, losing her temper.

Draymond closed his eyes briefly, sensing Zarina's spit on his face. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, he said, "No, but I enjoy seeing people trying to do their best."

Zarina blinks rapidly, taken aback by the realization that someone has seen her challenges.

Throughout her life, no one has witnessed her tears. She battles her struggles in solitude, facing each challenge alone without the support of friends. She doesn't have friends to consider anyway.

Everyone sees Zarina as a strong, independent woman who can succeed independently. She's known for her intelligence and talents, standing confidently on her own feet.

However, behind this perfect image, nobody knows about the hidden imperfections or challenges she faces – the stain on her cup that she keeps to herself.

She licked her lips and blinked, scolding herself internally for getting too dramatic. Maybe it's stress messing with her hormones lately.

"There's nothing wrong with your designs; it's you who's the problem," Draymond added, his gaze fixed on the sketch pad.

The numerous crumpled papers from her torn sketchpad made it clear she was feeling the pressure.

"What?!" she exclaimed, her brows knitted in confusion.

"Why not take a break and ease up on yourself?" Draymond suggested straightforwardly. "You're a fashion designer, not Atlas, carrying the world's weight on your shoulders. Yet, here you are, acting like you're shouldering it all. Ease off the pressure when it's unnecessary."

"Woah! I couldn't believe this ice guy gave me some words of wisdom." she murmured.

Zarina couldn't wipe away the thought of staying vigilant, and her instincts told her that someone wanted her downfall.

It really bothers her when she has this client who never wants to sit with her and talk about the suit he wanted. She can't tell if her designs will accentuate his client's physique.

Her client remained a mystery, described by Miss Karina as a significant figure capable of shaking the world with a snap of his fingers.

The advice echoed: she mustn't let him down or they all face downfall.

"You can say that because you're not in my shoes. I'm under a lot of stress for a reason. I have a very demanding client who expects everything to be perfect! And, if he doesn't like my work, it could harm my company!" she said with frustration, gritting her teeth.

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