Chapter— 2 Days Later
Iman's POV
They say time heals.
I say time masks.
It had been two days since everything went back to normal. Back to sarcastic exchanges, unspoken jokes in the middle of classes, to Ahad stealing fries from my tiffin box and me hitting his knuckles with a pen.
The version of us that existed before—before books, Hafiz, library letters, sudden silences—had returned like it never left.
And Ahad... he was back too. At least, the version of him I used to know. Loud, careless with his hair, always too late for the assembly, and shouting "Save me!" when Miss Briganza walked into class with test papers.
But there was something about the way his voice paused when Suhail laughed too loudly at my joke.
Something about the way he shifted in his seat when I passed someone my notebook.
Something about the way he scowled when two boys from our parallel section tried to ask what novels to suggest them.
He never said anything.
But he didn't have to.
I knew him too well.
And even though he was trying hard to be the "just-friends" version of himself—the boyish, messy, brat of a best friend—there were these cracks. Silent flickers. Moments that looked like jealousy if I didn't know him better.
Except… I wasn't sure if I did anymore.
But I kept quiet.
Because if I didn't name it… maybe it wouldn't be real.
And I—I was trying too. I had folded whatever the past few weeks had brought into a neat envelope and tucked it away. He was my best friend. That was the safest title. The only one that didn't cause tremors.
Until…
"He's back."
I looked up from my notebook.
Sara was leaning over the window of our class, eyes sharp and voice low like she was dropping forbidden gossip.
"Who?" I asked, though something in me already knew.
She looked straight at me.
"Hafiz."
For a second, everything went quiet.
Not around me—but in me.
My pen stopped. My thoughts scattered like dry leaves on pavement.
I turned slightly—just enough to glance past the window, to the stairs where groups of boys were laughing near the old fountain.
There he stood.
Sharp jaw. That same watch he used to tap when he waited outside class. The same smirk that displayed 'You were mine before Ahad came between.'
And like clockwork… I felt eyes on me.
Ahad.
He was across the room, joking with Zaffar. But his voice had dipped. His eyes hadn't left the window where Hafiz stood.
A flicker of something darker passed across his face.
And for the first time in days…
we weren't "back to normal" anymore.
Absolutely. Here's the next chapter, continuing directly from the moment Hafiz reappears—this time from Ahad's POV, where all his inner restraint begins to crack:
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Chapter: Same Day,
"Ahad's POV"
There are silences that sit on your chest like weight.
And then there are silences that crawl under your skin, twitching, unsettling—like this one.
I knew before Iman turned her head.
Even before Shanzeh muttered, "He's back."
I saw him.
Hafiz.
Same arrogant stance, like the school owed him a throne. Same twitch in his jaw when his eyes searched for Iman like she was some damn territory he lost in a war.
And just like that—my throat burned. My knuckles curled. The class blurred.
I wasn't this guy.
I wasn't the guy who got possessive. Who acted territorial. Who sized up another boy just for looking.
That was Hafiz.
But then again, I wasn't the guy I used to be.
Not around her.
Not since the book. Not since the letters. Not since she stopped talking to me for four freaking days.
Not since the way I'd catch myself watching her laugh—and forget to laugh myself.
I was shifting. Cracking.
And Hafiz… Hafiz wasn't helping.
I couldn't take my eyes off him. The way he leaned against the railings outside, already gathering an audience. Like he knew this school missed its villain.
I clenched the desk edge.
"Ahad," Zaffar whispered beside me, "You're gripping the bench like it insulted your football skills."
I let out a shaky breath.
"I'm fine," I lied.
"Right," he muttered. "And I'm secretly dating Dua Lipa."
But I wasn't fine. I hadn't been fine since she'd stopped calling me idiot with that half-smile. Since she started not looking at me the way she used to.
And then…
"Ahad."
Her voice. Iman.
I blinked and looked up.
She was right there. Same seat behind mine. Suhail on her left, blabbering about something. But she had turned her head.
Looked at me.
And for a second, it was just the two of us.
But then she turned away. Again. Just like she had for days before we made that truce. Before she said, "We were always best friends… I just needed a break."
Best friends.
Right.
Then why does my chest ache each time she talks to someone else?
Why do I feel like I'm guarding a city I never even claimed?
And then Hafiz walked past our class window, smirking.
My fists clenched again.
No. Not this time. Not again.
-------------------
School off
He was near the cycle stand. Alone. Finally.
I didn't even remember moving until I was already there, standing right in front of him.
"Long time," he said, hands in pockets. Same smug face.
"Not long enough," I said flatly.
He laughed.
"Still protective, I see."
"Still delusional, I see."
His grin faltered.
"She's not yours, Ahad. You do know that, right?"
My eyes didn't leave his.
"I never claimed her."
I stepped forward.
"But I won't let her be claimed by someone like you."
His jaw tightened.
But I didn't care.
This wasn't a declaration.
It was a warning.