The sunlight slipped through the curtains gently, but Ayra didn't move.
She just stared at the ceiling, her hand still resting on the spot Zayn's lips had touched last night.
Her forehead still felt… warm. Like a ghost of him had stayed behind.
She should've slept.
But her mind had danced all night between the fight, the bruise, and that kiss.
And now, morning came. But nothing felt new
She dragged herself to the mirror.
The bruise was light, but visible.
Purple, a little swollen.
She stared at it like it wasn't on her body.
Like someone else had been there.
Someone who ran out at night barefoot.
Someone who screamed two boys into silence.
And someone who watched Zayn walk away like she wasn't holding on to a thousand unsaid questions.
She touched her cheek lightly. Flinched.
"Why did they fight?"
"Why did he stop first?"
"Why do I feel like this bruise is a turning point?
The school group chat was on fire.
"Who else heard Cairo and Zayn fought last night??"
"Real punches? 😳"
"Someone said a girl got hit too???"
"Do we have tea or do we have TEA???"
Ayra sighed.
Her name wasn't there… yet.
But it wouldn't take long.
She tied a scarf around her head, threw on her oversized hoodie, and sat back on the bed.
She wasn't ready to go to class yet.
Not with this bruise.
Not with this new silence between her and Zayn.
Not with Cairo's elbow still echoing against her skin.
But something told her…
This day wouldn't let her hide for long.
Because things were changing.
And not even her silence could hold them back now.