“Zoya, your duffle bag is too heavy. Give. It. To. Me.”

Zoya rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s literally just a hoodie and water bottle.”

Akif didn’t budge. He snatched the bag from her shoulder anyway and flung it over his.

She glared at him as they walked down the university corridor. “You know I can carry my own stuff.”

He looked at her sideways, his voice cool. “You also could’ve stayed in Bokaro, but thank God you didn’t make that dumb decision either.”

Zoya blinked, caught off-guard. “Did you just call me dumb?”

He smirked. “Selective hearing, Miss Zoya.”

They were walking together to class — just like old times — only now, Akif refused to let her lift anything heavier than her phone. Aarfa had already warned her in the morning: “He’s gone into full bodyguard mode. Just let him.”

Still, Zoya couldn’t help but find it… adorable.

Ever since she had returned, Akif was sticking closer than usual. Walking her to class. Texting to check on her every few hours. Even sitting beside her during library hours, even when he didn’t need to study.

He wasn’t loud about it.

But his presence was comforting.

Like a shadow that made you feel warm instead of afraid.

---

Later that day, Zoya was in the library, curled up in her favorite beanbag, scrolling through her notes. The sunlight through the window made her eyes flutter shut.

“Sleepy?”

She opened one eye.

Akif stood there, holding two cups of chai in his hands.

“For me?” she teased.

“For us.” he replied, handing her the warm cup.

She took it, fingers brushing against his. The touch lingered for just a second too long.

Zoya took a sip. “You remember I like extra ginger?”

He gave her a look. “I remember everything.”

That made her stomach flutter.

---

They didn’t talk much after that. Just sat there, close enough to feel each other’s breathing but not close enough to raise eyebrows.

At some point, Zoya’s hand accidentally brushed his again on the shared desk.

She didn’t pull back.

Neither did he.

---

When they stepped out of the library, the evening sun had painted the campus gold.

A group of boys laughed loudly near the parking lot. One of them gave Zoya a long stare — too long.

Akif noticed instantly.

He took a step forward, standing a little in front of her.

Zoya blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Blocking view,” he said, tone flat.

“Akif—”

“I’ll block the whole sun if it keeps idiots from staring.”

She chuckled. “Jealous much?”

He turned to her, eyes serious. “Not jealous. Protective.”

And then, softer: “That okay with you?”

Zoya didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

---

Back at the apartment that night, Zoya sat curled on the couch, thinking about the way his eyes had darkened when the guy stared at her. The way his jaw tightened. The way he carried her bag like it was made of glass. The way he brought chai without asking.

He didn’t say much. He never did.

But he didn’t have to.

Because Akif Malik didn’t show love in grand words or romantic lines.

He showed it in heavy duffel bags and ginger chai.

In stepping ahead when someone stared too long.

In being there.

And Zoya… was starting to see it all.

---

Is my chapters very short? Ahh...let it be hehe.