It was past midnight when Ayra finally slipped onto her balcony.
The air was cold and quiet — too quiet for a campus like hers — like the night was waiting for someone to break it.
She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the street below.
That's when she noticed it.
Light.
A faint orange glow…
Cairo's balcony.
He was there.
Sitting. Smoking. Thinking. Watching.
Of course he was.
Their eyes met. No words.
Just that sharp, almost intimate pull that made the air between them feel too real.
Ayra could've gone inside.
Closed the curtain. Pretended he didn't exist.
But she didn't.
She stayed.
And after a while…
Cairo stood, leaned on his own railing, and said it softly across the night:
"Why do you always look like you're trying to disappear?"
Ayra didn't answer right away.
She looked down at her hands.
"Why do you always look like you don't care about anything?"
He smiled. The lazy, boyish kind.
But it didn't reach his eyes.
"Because caring hurts."
Silence stretched again. The streetlamp flickered.
Crickets hummed below.
Ayra stepped closer to her railing.
"What do you see when you look at me?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Cairo looked at her like she was something fragile and dangerous at once.
"A girl who doesn't know how much noise she makes… just by breathing."
Her breath hitched.
"That's unfair," she whispered.
"So is life," he said
And then, just like that… he disappeared inside.
No goodnight. No smirk. Just gone.
Ayra stood frozen, heart loud in her ears.
She wasn't sure what just happened.
But something had shifted.
Something between silence and sparks.
And she wasn't ready to admit it…
But she'd wait for his balcony light again.