: act like such an idiot you'd think that I'd be over it. I'm far from being over you.

--❦--

ziyanah's p.o.v

                               TRADITIONALLY waking up was by far the most difficult task to perform when it came to Ziyanah Alit. I would rather be awake the entire day than force myself to wake up with the sun when the soft, chilly breeze from my window wraps me up while I'm still enveloped in the warmth of my sheets, however, today the sun seemed to be rising from the west, considering for it was the first time the night owl a.k.a me had decided to grace the morning sun like a newly awakened early bird.

The clock read a perfect 5:00 A.M the moment I decided to leave the comfort of my bed before heading on to do my morning rituals and changing into my yoga pants and oversized t-shirt as I pulled my hair in a tight ponytail before grabbing my phone and putting on the '7 days, 7 minutes Lucy Wyndham weight loss challenge' on YouTube.

This wasn't my everyday routine, let's be honest. I could never stick to such a disciplined regimen. However, today marked the beginning of a seven-day commitment for me. As much as I would like to convince myself that it was fueled by my 'love for my body,' the truth is quite the opposite.

Ever since the incident of unexpectedly encountering my crush, Rohaan, I couldn't help but be captivated by his undeniable perfection. Whether it was his appearance, his voice, or his charm, he excelled in every aspect. His mere presence managed to resurrect the remnants of insecurity I harbored about myself and my body.

When I stayed awake at night yesterday, eyes staring deep into those extra baby fat that lay all over my lower abdomen, arms, thighs, cheeks, and not to mention my annoyingly large D cup I couldn't help the small amount of water that settled in my eyes before I decided to get rid of them all as soon as possible.

For two years, I had worked tirelessly to build my confidence, believing that I had moved past the phase of feeling insecure about my body. However, I never anticipated that a single appearance from him would bring it all rushing back in an instant. Perhaps part of it was because I had never truly made dedicated physical efforts to improve my body, I just started accepting myself how I was until I realized that maybe acceptance wasn't enough for me to remain happy.

Don't get me wrong, as long as you do not have a health condition or are happy with yourself you're perfectly good to go.

As I completed my 7+20 minutes workout, beads of sweat dripped down my forehead and neck. Looking at my exhausted reflection in the mirror, a smile of pride spread across my face. These small moments filled me with immense pride, knowing that Ziyanah Alit was capable of overcoming even the slightest hint of insecurity or self-doubt.

Allowing the cold water to cascade from my neck to my toes, my thoughts drifted to the text Rohaan had sent me in the middle of the night or rather, early morning. It was precisely 3:22 A.M.

'See you tomorrow.'

Could it be possible that he was thinking of me at such an odd hour? The thought itself sent a pleasant flutter through my stomach before I decided to redirect my thoughts and step out of the shower.

"Are you unwell?" I rolled my eyes playfully at my mother the moment I stepped into the kitchen, greeted by the aroma of ginger and bubbling tea leaves in the pot. I tossed my dirty laundry into the washing machine, still adjusting to the idea of having it in the kitchen due to water piping issues.

"I actually woke up before you," I replied with a grin, tearing open a pack of bread and adding my favorite peanut chocolate spread to a slice.

She smiled back, impressed, as she poured milk into a mug, adding a touch of sugar before passing it to me. "What's the occasion?"

Initially, I wrinkled my nose at the plain white milk, but then caught my mother's stern gaze, prompting me to sigh and add some extra sugar.

"Nothing, just thought I finally needed some routine."

"You sure it's not about a boy,"

"Ni omma, stop," I said, not missing the smug smile that crept onto her face as she sipped her ginger tea.

"It's good to see you not being lazy as always."

Downing the mug of milk in one go, I placed it on the counter and washed it before setting it on the rack.

"I better get ready or I'll be late," I said, giving my mother a kiss on the cheek before heading off.

Swiftly changing out of my cotton shorts and an oversized tee, I slipped into my favorite pair of flared blue jeans and an olive green crop top. Adding a simple gold-plated chain, I grabbed my straightener and smoothed out the front of my black cherry-colored bangs before tying the rest into a messy bun. Satisfied with my appearance, I moved on to applying my makeup.

Unlike most girls in my college who preferred to be as far away from makeup as possible, I clearly wasn't that type. I enjoyed doing stuff to my face that made me look as presentable as possible, I liked taking the extra effort to add the blush and concealer that just made me feel a little more alive, a little less flawed.

Part of it stemmed from the insecurities I kept hidden, while another part was simply my love for makeup. Regardless, I never dwelled on it too much.

With a final smile of approval, I left my room, grabbing my tote bag from the study, throwing in my wallet, phone, earphones, metro card, and a bottle of water along with the already existing stationary,  and slipping on my Converse before bidding farewell to my parents.

----

Traveling alone is fun as long as you're surrounded by strangers. Strangers who don't know you, and certainly couldn't care less about where you come from or where you go. Some strangers bless you with the glare, some with the stare while my personal favorite section of society simply walks past me, ignoring my existence.

Just how I liked it,

As I gazed at the sun rays streaming through the auto's glass shield, a smile crept across my face. I reminisced about life before college, finding it hard to imagine where I am now. Never in my wildest dreams would I have pictured myself as the girl who would undertake an hour-long journey, clinging to the front seat of an auto-rickshaw not once, but thrice, and then take a metro ride just to reach my university. And I would repeat the same process on my way back after studying for approximately 8 hours.

I had an entire day of freedom from now until ever.

I had gotten the taste of being partially independent and I loved every part of it.

A small chuckle escaped my lips as I overheard the woman behind me whispering to her friend about her disapproval of the dressing style of the "new generation." According to her, all they wear these days are "strange, sack-like, and shapeless" clothes, pointing specifically at my flared jeans.

'How discrete.'

The judgment from strangers didn't intimidate me, nor did the opinions of my friends. However, what truly made my heart race and my palms sweat was the scrutiny that came from those individuals who were borderline below the stranger's category but not close enough to be called a 'friend'

People who knew about me, but just didn't know who I was.

People I liked.

People who didn't like me back.

People whose names started with an R and ended with an N.

'Fuck,'

My fun and games came to an abrupt and unwelcome halt as the auto came to a stop at the entrance of my university. Despite trying to ignore the sudden acceleration of my heart, I couldn't help but notice the familiar figure standing there, towering at 6'1, with an unmistakable side profile that I had once spent hours gazing at through my phone screen. Hastily, I stepped out of the vehicle, my hands quickly rummaging through my wallet to retrieve a 10 rupee note, hoping to avoid drawing any attention from the person surrounded by his batchmates in front of Chacha's Dhaba.

"Thank you," I muttered, passing the driver a small smile when my ears perked up at the sound of my name being muttered from behind, making my heart rates rise.

"Yeah man, that's her. She's the fresher who--"

I didn't wait to hear their entire conversation before desperately and quickly adding a little more coverage in my steps that my short legs allowed me to take, before speed-walking away from the voices as quickly as I could.

'Breathe, Ziya. Breathe.' I whispered to myself as the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears. This was not what I had hoped for. I didn't want any attention, and although I would never admit it to myself, I couldn't deny the fact that I was a nervous wreck when it came to anything even remotely connected to my crush. I could feel a tiny bead of sweat trickling down from my forehead, betraying my anxiety.

It was true that I had only heard Rohaan's voice for the first time yesterday, but trust me when I say that I could distinguish his voice from a dozen others in an instant.

"Yeah, I'm on my way, bro. Order me some black coffee, will you?" I heard him say.

Coffee. The cafeteria?

I cursed under my breath as I considered the full-blown approximately six minutes and twenty seconds of distance I had yet to cover until we'd have to part ways, with him being right behind me, getting a perfect view of my not-so-perfect figure and frizzy hair when my eyes caught sight of the left turn leading to the basement parking lot.

Wait a minute.

I felt my impulsive instincts kick in almost in an instant and before I know I quickly took the next left, feet falling fast at the downwards sloping path, not stopping until my steps hit the pavement below the sloped ramp.

"Goddamn,"

I chuckled to myself and shook my head, relieved that he didn't notice me at all in the first place. Could I be any more mortifying? Hell yes.

I retrieved my phone from my pocket and checked the time. I had a good 30 minutes until my first class, so there was nothing to worry about. I grabbed a bottle of water from my bag and took two large gulps, quenching my thirst when suddenly, a loud screeching sound of a bike reached my ears. It rushed past me, catching me off guard and causing me to choke on my water.

"What the fuck?"

My eyes stared daggers at the two-wheeled vehicle that disappeared at the turn, making a wave of anger rush through my veins.

'Could this day be any worse!?'

Releasing a sigh, I looked at the numbers on my screen, it had finally been a good two minutes since my second hideout from my crush, and to say I was embarrassed by myself would be an understatement.

'we're supposed to be bad bitches Zee, not chickens!' I could feel my sub-conscience shout making me shake my head.

'Whatev---,'

"Kay, No! You're not gonna do anything like that! You do not own my life for fuck's sake!" I heard a screeching voice coming from the other side of the parking lot making a vertical line form in between my brows. There was just something about the "desperate-cy" in the girl's voice that slightly made me hold my breath, as I tighten my grip around my bag.

I wasn't exactly the type to avoid being an audience in a fight, I didn't necessarily enjoy it but well, I didn't hate it either, however, one thing I had never been the type to get involved in had to be a pitcher-perfect couple-quarrel. It came from my past experiences of being trapped in my parents' arguments or having to act as a referee between my sister and her boyfriend. I hated the drama couples were capable of pulling off, be it on a glass of water or in what way the wind blows.

Shaking my head at the reminders of them, I was about to leave when the sound of something hard being loudly crushed on the ground made my red-flag antenna knock up.

'Did he hit her??'

'Should I ask for help?'

'Fuck!'

Swiftly taking out my phone, I activated the location tracking before making my way to the opposite side of the parking lot where I had witnessed the reckless bike rider disappear. My gaze fell upon a girl with curly hair, dressed in a pink and white strapless checked mini dress that hugged her figure, accentuated by six-inch white block heels. She delivered one final kick to the fallen or perhaps intentionally shattered helmet on the ground, followed by a disdainful glare and a defiant middle finger directed at the guy responsible, before striding away confidently.

'Woah.'

A slight furrow formed on my forehead as I observed the guy's actions. He knelt down to retrieve the fallen helmet, placing it on his motorcycle seat. His frustration was evident as he ran his hand through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose while his jaw tightened. I couldn't help but wonder if there would be a more dramatic reaction from him, given his tall and well-built physique. I knew it was a superficial and cringe-worthy thought, but my intrusive mind tended to go there.

'That's it? Is he not going to kick or throw tantrums?' 

A tiny part of me wanted to be proud of what the pretty girl in pink did, while the other couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy, whose back I had been looking at for quite an uncomfortable amount of time now. Trust me to be the creepiest. Good thing he had his back towards me. Nevertheless, I had no knowledge of the context so it was best to stay out of it. Waiting for a few more seconds, I couldn't help but chuckle at the way the guy slowly ran his hand through his helmet like it was a kid's head he was caressing before he finally turned around, and that's when my smile dropped.

"L.S," I whispered,

"What're doing here?" a small shriek escaped my lips the moment I felt a hand tap on my should making me quickly turn around, eyes boring into a fairly familiar pair of orbs as they stared at me questioningly.

"Rohaan- I- H-hi?" I stuttered,

In an instant, he grabbed my wrist firmly and pulled me away from the area.

"Rohaan, what are you..." I began to ask, bewildered by his sudden actions, but before I could finish my sentence, he interrupted me.

"What do you think you're doing, Ziya?" His question caught me completely off guard. Was he referring to my disappearance, or was there something else I was missing?

"Excuse me?" I replied, expecting an explanation. However, instead of answering, he continued to walk, dragging me along with him. I couldn't help but notice the tightening grip on my wrist.

"Rohaan, stop! What is wrong with you?" I exclaimed, my voice devoid of any tolerance as I pulled my wrist out of his grip making him take a deep breath before he stopped dead on his track, head snapping towards me in a rapid motion as he stared at me with an unknown emotion running through his eyes.

"What's wrong with me? What's fuckin wrong with you, Ziya?"

"I don't understa-"

"Look, I-I know you're avoiding me. But this," Rohaan scoffed, his hands pointing at something or rather someone who was behind me, "I thought you were better than that,"

I didn't know how to react, hell I couldn't even put a finger on what he meant.

"Rohaan, I seriously don't get you,"

His disapproving shake of the head accompanied by the sharpness in his voice caused something inside me to crack slightly. "Ziya, I'm not a kid. I know you've been avoiding me, and if you're just looking to mess around, believe me, he's the last guy you should get involved with."

His words stung as if he believed I would stoop to such behavior. If it had been anyone else making baseless accusations, I would have easily brushed them off. But this was Rohaan we were talking about—the guy I had been infatuated with for years, the person with whom I shared my deepest insecurities and vulnerabilities. It wasn't just the fact that he had seen me half-naked; it was also the fact that he was the one I had spent sleepless nights discussing my fears with.  And yet, here he stood, meeting me for the second time and already questioning my character

"I have absolutely zero interest in justifying or even acknowledging any of your baseless and senseless accusations, so it's best if you just learn how to mind your own goddamn business and stay away from mine, Rohaan." my jaw gritted as I felt my glare intensify the moment his brows scrunched together before he slowly took a step closer.

"I'm not accusing you, Ziya. I know we didn't really end on a good note but you are my friend and I do care about you."

His hands slowly rested on my arms as he gently pulled me closer.

"I saw you guys the other day, at the library. And I saw the way you rushed here to meet him. You're new to this place Ziya. Trust me when I say he is not the company you need. In fact," he stopped his eyes boring into mine as he slowly clenched his jaw before practically forcing his next words out.

"If you just wanna get laid I could--" Jerking his hand off me, I couldn't help but stare at him with disbelief. I'd be lying if I said that the first half of his 'care' didn't get me though.

"Do you always seem to assume that every girl that hangs out with a guy, just has the motive of getting laid, or is it the fact that you've seen me half naked that makes you think, I'm just some attention-seeking whore?"

A scoff escaped my lips.

"Well, I do not give two shits about how much you 'care' for me Rohaan, I did not ask for your guardianship and I certainly will not wait for your goddamn approval for whom I can talk to and whom I can't, you hear me? Don't you ever think of pulling a stunt like this on me ever again?"

"He's not someone you mess with. Ziya, you're not understandi-"

"No, I'm not! I don't even want to! Rohaan I don't care who he is or what he does, whether he's a bully, a drug addict, a playboy, or whatever the goddamn shit about him that's freaking you out, I do not care! I'm not answerable to you and certainly not liable to comply to any of your stupid commands."

What even does he mean by mess with? Am I that unsafe for a grown-up man to be around?

"Ziya, I'm begging you, please stay away from him!" Rohaan's voice rose in frustration, his hands running anxiously over his face.

"Why!?" I retorted, trying to understand his sudden intensity. Normally, if he had approached me calmly, discussing concerns about my Legal Science partner, I might have considered his request. But his words carried an underlying implication that I was some promiscuous person, on a mission to have encounters with every guy in the university. 

That's what he always did—made me feel degraded, as if I were nothing more than a whore.

"Because!" He paused, releasing his clenched jaw to lock his gaze with mine

"Because he's not just some random druggie, bully, or playboy, Ziya." I furrowed my brows at the thickness of his voice, sensing his deep disdain and disgust as he continued.

"He's Kayzaad Alkaazi, and that name is enough."

--❦--

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- end of chapter / 05 -