Ayra told herself she wouldn't think about it.
About the conversation.
About the street.
About him.
She wasn't going to bring it up.
Not to Zayn.
Not even to herself.
It was just coincidence, right?
Rich boys can live anywhere they want.
Even two doors from you.
Even with a smirk that felt like it knew your dreams
She focused on school instead.
Or at least pretended to.
There were lectures. Group work.
New semester haze. Fresh faces floating in from other campuses.
She kept her eyes down, voice soft, steps careful.
Zayn didn't say much.
Just nods in the hallway.
And sometimes glances that looked like they almost meant something.
Almost.
But nothing ever landed
Three days passed.
And then Cairo made it impossible to ignore.
It was lunch break when she saw them.
Zayn… and Cairo… and the others.
Three boys, stylish, loud, laughing like they ruled the floor.
And maybe they did.
Cairo walked like the corridor belonged to his feet.
That slow, dangerous type of walk — like his bones knew secrets.
He caught her looking.
Didn't look away.
Then, a wink.
So quick. So sharp.
It left a cut in her thoughts.
Ayra blinked and turned away, cheeks hot.
Trouble wasn't just living two doors down.
Trouble was walking her halls now.
And it wore black
Later that evening, she tried to clear her head with a short walk down her street.
The air was calm. The sky soft orange. Her hoodie up.
As she passed Zayn's house, her steps slowed by instinct.
The lights were on. Curtains drawn halfway.
He was home.
But he didn't come out.
She continued walking…
And just as she neared the eighth house—
"You really walk like that every day?"
Ayra was startled
Cairo was sitting on his front step, hoodie over his head, sipping something from a mug.
"Relax," he added, smirking. "I don't bite unless asked."
Ayra stood frozen.
Fingers curling in her sleeve.
Heart confused.
She should walk. She should.
But her feet weren't listening.
"You spying on me now?" she managed.
Cairo chuckled.
"Please. You're the one always passing by. You sure you're not the curious one?"
She rolled her eyes, turned, and walked away without another word.
His voice followed like smoke.
"Night, Ayra."
He knew her name.
And that was the beginning of the end.