By morning, the hostel was already awake.
Amara knew because sleep had completely abandoned her.
She lay on her bed in RM34A, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds outside—footsteps, laughter, someone arguing over a charger. Normal hostel noise. Except nothing felt normal anymore.
She turned her head slowly.
The other bed was empty.
Kian was gone.
She didn't know why that bothered her.
Amara sat up and reached for her towel.
She needed a shower.
Cold water.
Something to reset her brain.
As she stepped into the hallway, conversations dipped.
Not fully.
Just enough.
Her shoulders stiffened.
She walked past two girls whispering near the staircase.
"…that's her."
"The one sharing with Kian Blake?"
"Yeah. The nursing girl."
Amara's heart sank.
So it had started.
She kept her face straight and continued walking, pretending she couldn't hear the soft laughter behind her.
By the time she returned from the bathroom, her jaw hurt from clenching it.
Back in the room, she dressed quickly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. If she stayed any longer, she'd be late for class—and she refused to give anyone more reason to talk.
Just as she reached for the door, it opened.
Kian walked in, hair slightly damp, earphones around his neck.
"Morning, roomie."
She froze. "Don't call me that."
He raised an eyebrow. "Tough crowd."
She brushed past him. "People are talking."
He closed the door behind her. "People always talk."
"They're talking about me," she snapped, turning around.
"About us."
Kian studied her face, the tension, the barely controlled frustration.
His expression shifted—just slightly.
"Did anyone bother you?"
She hesitated. "No. But—"
"Then ignore them."
She laughed humorlessly. "Easy for you to say."
He leaned against his bed. "Why?"
"Because you don't care what people think
."
"Wrong," he said calmly. "I just choose what matters."
That annoyed her even more.
"I didn't sign up for this," she said quietly. "I just wanted a normal semester."
His voice softened. "This won't ruin your life, Amara."
Her breath caught at the way he said her name.
She turned away. "I'm late."
She left before he could say anything else.
On campus, the whispers followed her.
In the lecture hall, someone glanced at her phone and smiled knowingly.
During break, two girls stopped talking the moment she approached.
By the time her last class ended, Amara felt drained.
She walked back to the hostel slowly, replaying everything in her head.
Maybe she should request a room change. Maybe this really was a mistake.
As she reached Okeleye Hostel, she saw Kian standing outside, talking to a group of guys.
He laughed, easy and familiar, like he belonged everywhere.
One of the guys nudged him. "Your roommate's popular now."
Kian's smile faded. "Drop it."
Amara stopped.
He turned and saw her. Their eyes met.
For a moment, everything else disappeared—the noise, the gossip, the tension.
"I didn't ask for this," she said.
"I know," he replied.
Silence settled between them.
Then he said, "We'll set another rule."
She frowned. "Another?"
"No unnecessary explanations," he continued. "To anyone."
She studied him. "And if they don't listen?"
A small, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Then they answer to me."
Her heart skipped.
That was not comforting.
That was trouble.
And deep down, she knew it—
This roommate situation was already changing everything.