The first thing Zoya noticed that morning was the silence.

Aarfa’s bed was empty. Her mug untouched.

She blinked at the note on the table:

> “Zoyaaa — emergency at home. Had to catch a train to Nagpur. Be back in 3 days max. Love you. PS: Eat properly or I’ll come back and fight you.”

Zoya smiled softly. She already missed her.

It had been a month since she came to Mumbai. Her hair didn’t smell like home anymore, but her heart still carried its bruises.

She knew the chai uncle now. The library guard. Some classmates even waved at her.

> She wasn’t invisible anymore.

But she still felt… alone.

---

By 4 PM, college was over.

The air had already started to hum — clouds hanging low and angry, the city tense and waiting.

She stepped outside and in minutes, the rain poured like madness.

No umbrellas.

No autos.

No cabs.

Just drenched streets and rushing water.

Zoya hugged her books to her chest, standing under the Xavier entrance archway, watching the storm blur the world.

She was calculating how far she’d have to run — when a black SUV pulled up right in front of her.

Windows fogged. Wipers swishing.

And then, the driver’s window rolled down halfway.

Akif.

> “Get in.”

She blinked. “You drive?”

> “Apparently.”

Zoya hesitated.

> “You’ll drown out here,” he added casually, “and I don’t save people twice.”

She rolled her eyes and opened the passenger door.

---

The car was warm.

Soft instrumental music played low on the stereo. His backpack lay on the backseat, slightly wet. He passed her a clean napkin wordlessly.

She dried her hands, staring out the window.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Just the sound of rain hitting the windshield. Her wet shoes squeaking softly. The AC humming.

Zoya finally broke the silence.

> “You always carry a car around like a spare shirt?”

Akif glanced at her, amused.

> “My dad gave it to me when I moved into second year. Said I should stop acting like I live in a movie.”

Zoya smiled. “You still do.”

> “Only in the rainy scenes.”

She looked at him.

He was… calm.

One hand on the wheel.

Hair still slightly damp.

And eyes — sharp but soft around the edges.

She shifted in her seat. “How do you even know where I live?”

He didn’t look at her.

> “You told Aarfa. I heard.”

Of course.

---

By the time they reached her building, the rain had softened but her heart hadn’t.

She paused before getting out.

> “Thanks,” she said.

Still no response.

She tilted her head. “You’re always this silent or just with me?”

He turned slightly.

> “I talk when someone’s worth talking to.”

She blinked. “And today I was?”

Akif’s voice was low now.

> “You asked for a drop.

You didn’t say leave after that.”

Their eyes locked.

Not a word was said for 4 seconds.

But everything was said in that silence.

Zoya opened the door, slowly.

> “Come upstairs?” she teased.

> “Tempting,” he muttered.

She laughed — and it slipped out so naturally that even she was surprised.

Akif didn’t laugh back.

But he smiled.

> A real, silent, wreck-your-heart smile.

---

That night, curled on her bed with raindrops still

tapping on her window,

Zoya wrote just one line in her notebook:

> He didn’t say much.

But he knew where to find me.

And that was enough.

---

To be continued...

_______

Was it too early? Tell me in comments!

Feel free to correct me because I know I don't write SO good.

Love yaaa💋🌚

~Annie✨