Monday came too fast.
Lectures dragged, papers rustled, and Emmanuel couldn't concentrate. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ella's face after Zara's parting words.
He knew that look—the uncertainty. The fear of falling for someone who might still be broken.
He couldn't lose her.
Not now.
Not when she'd started to feel like the only real thing in his life.
---
After class, he stood outside Ella's building, heart pounding, hoodie soaked from the light drizzle that had returned.
She came out eventually—headphones in, hair in a loose bun, eyes tired. She froze when she saw him.
"I owe you more than words," he said.
"You do," she replied quietly. "But I'm not walking away."
A flicker of hope sparked in him.
"I just need time," she added. "To understand you. To decide if I can handle your ghosts."
He stepped closer. "I'll give you all the time in the world. Just don't shut the door on me."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."
But even as she smiled faintly, he felt it—that crack between them.
Zara had slipped her way in, even without staying.
---
That evening, in the dim light of the cafeteria, the air shifted again.
Emmanuel walked in, tray in hand, and spotted Ella sitting with a friend—Tari, a soft-spoken guy from her department. They were laughing, leaning close.
Emmanuel's stomach twisted.
He walked past without stopping.
And that's when Zara slid into the empty seat beside him.
"Funny how jealousy looks on you," she said, eyes glinting.
He didn't answer.
"You think Ella doesn't have other options?" Zara continued, voice like silk and venom. "Boys like Tari? They don't come with broken pasts."
"She likes me for who I am now."
Zara leaned in. "Then why are you so afraid she'll leave?"
He clenched his jaw. "You don't know anything about us."
"Oh, but I do," she purred. "You forget, Emmanuel—I know how to get inside your head. Your heart too."
Before he could respond, she brushed her fingers over his hand—just for a second. A flash. A threat.
Then she got up, hips swaying. "See you around, lover boy."
---
Later that night, Ella sent a message:
"Come to the rooftop."
When he arrived, she was sitting under the stars, legs crossed, hoodie pulled over her head.
"I saw her," she said. "Talking to you."
"She found me," he said. "I told her off."
"Did you?"
He hesitated. "She tried to get into my head, Ella. But I didn't let her. Not really."
Silence.
Then Ella looked up. "Do you love me?"
His heart thundered.
"I'm falling," he said, voice rough. "So fast, it terrifies me."
She nodded. "Then don't lie to me. Not even with silence."
"I won't."
She stood, walked over to him, and for the first time, wrapped her arms around him. Not in passion—but in trust.
He held her tightly.
"I don't care about Zara," she whispered. "Not unless you give me a reason to."
He pulled back, looked into her eyes.
"I only want you."
She leaned up slowly… and this time, when her lips met his, it wasn't rushed.
It was slow. Real. Earth-shaking.
The kind of kiss that rewrote the rules.
---
Somewhere below them, the campus lights flickered.
And somewhere deeper, in the shadows, Zara watched from a distance.
Smiling.
Because this wasn't the end.
It was the beginning of the real war for Emmanuel's heart.