It had been a long, exhausting week.

Assignments. Presentations. Practice runs for another university fest.

Zoya had barely gotten a chance to breathe. So when Ayaan casually mentioned that they were all meeting for a small house party at one of the seniors’ flats — just to relax — she didn’t think twice.

“No loud music,” Aarfa had promised.

“No alcohol,” Akif had said flatly.

But of course, promises were like confetti in a college party.

---

Zoya sat on the floor cushions, a bottle of Coke in her hand, while Akif leaned against the wall beside her, unusually quiet.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his collar slightly undone, hair messier than usual. His eyes — darker. Slower.

“You okay?” she asked, nudging him lightly.

He blinked at her, then nodded.

But she saw it.

The slight sway.

The glaze in his eyes.

“Wait—are you drunk?”

“Not drunk,” he said slowly. “Just... not not drunk.”

Her eyes widened. “You said you don’t drink!”

“I don’t,” he muttered, voice low. “But today… I did. A little.”

She didn’t know whether to be worried or amused. “Why today?”

His gaze flicked to her, intense and unreadable.

“Because you looked like you belonged to someone else today.”

Zoya’s breath caught.

“What…?”

He chuckled bitterly, looking away. “Forget I said that.”

---

Minutes passed.

The party had died down. People had started to leave. Laughter faded into yawns, and Aarfa was passed out in a beanbag beside Ayaan, who was already half-asleep.

Only Zoya and Akif were left in the living room, now dimly lit and silent except for the ticking wall clock.

Zoya sat beside him on the couch, biting her lip.

“You should drink water,” she whispered.

Akif didn’t respond. His eyes were on her. Burning.

“Zoya.”

Her name on his lips was a confession.

She turned toward him, startled by the intensity in his voice.

“I’ve been trying so hard to stay away from this,” he said, leaning closer.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

“I thought I could keep things simple. Be around you. Watch you laugh. Make sure you’re safe. Pretend that’s enough.”

“Akif—” she breathed, frozen.

“But it’s not enough,” he whispered.

She blinked. “You’re drunk. You don’t mean—”

“I do mean it,” he cut in. “I mean everything I’m saying right now. And I’ll mean it tomorrow too.”

He was so close now she could feel his breath.

And then—

He leaned in.

Zoya’s breath hitched. Her lips parted. Her eyes fluttered shut without thinking.

They were inches apart.

She could feel his warmth. Smell the faint trace of something sweet and bitter on his breath.

His fingers brushed her jaw.

Then he froze.

Silence.

His hand dropped.

He pulled back — eyes wide, chest heaving — like he’d just realized what he was doing.

“I— I can’t.”

Zoya opened her eyes.

He was already standing up, running a hand through his hair, pacing away from her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m not doing this. Not like this.”

And then he walked toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

---

Zoya sat there, heart pounding in her throat, lips tingling from what almost happened.

From what didn’t happen.

She touched her jaw where his fingers had lingered.

And whispered, “Then when, Akif?”

What do u thought huh? Kiss? Ahmm mhmm no no no noooo~ just few chapters 🔥 🌚 🤌🏻