Aira Kapoor didn't sleep that night.
Not because of nightmares.
Not because of noise.
But because her mind refused to shut up.
I want to find out with you.
Reyhan's words replayed over and over, softer each time, heavier every time they returned.
She stared at the ceiling, one hand resting over her chest like she could physically calm her heart.
She hadn't said yes.
She hadn't said no.
And somehow, that felt louder than any confession.
---
The next morning at Northcrest High felt… different.
Not dramatic.
Not explosive.
Just charged.
Aira walked through the gate slowly, hyper-aware of everything — the sound of footsteps, the murmur of voices, the flutter in her stomach that refused to settle.
Sia appeared beside her like a jumpscare.
"GOOD MORNING, EMOTIONALLY CONFUSED MAIN CHARACTER."
Aira jumped. "SIA—"
Sia grinned wickedly. "You didn't sleep, did you?"
Aira glared. "Why would you assume that?"
"Because you're walking like someone who almost made a life-altering emotional decision."
Aira groaned. "Please stop narrating my suffering."
"Oh I can't," Sia said cheerfully. "This is my favorite arc."
They reached the hallway.
And then—
She saw him.
Reyhan Malhotra stood near the lockers, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as he talked to someone. He looked relaxed, unbothered, exactly like the boy everyone thought he was.
Except the moment his eyes met hers—
Everything shifted.
He stopped talking.
Straightened slightly.
And looked at her like the rest of the world had quietly disappeared.
Aira's heartbeat spiked.
He didn't walk over immediately.
Didn't smirk.
Didn't corner her.
He waited.
That somehow made it worse.
Sia whispered, "WHY IS HE WAITING LIKE A RESPECTFUL GREEN FLAG—"
"STOP," Aira hissed.
After a moment that felt way too long, Reyhan finally walked toward her.
Slow.
Calm.
Careful.
"Aira," he said softly.
Her name again.
Her chest tightened. "Reyhan."
Silence stretched between them — not awkward, not empty.
Just full.
He searched her face. "Did I… push you too far yesterday?"
Her heart sank.
"No," she said quickly. "You didn't."
"Then why do you look like you're about to disappear?"
Aira swallowed. "Because you said something that doesn't come with instructions."
Reyhan huffed a small laugh. "Fair."
She looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes fully.
"You said you wanted me to choose you," she said quietly.
He nodded once. "I did."
"And what if I don't know how to choose yet?"
Reyhan didn't flinch.
"Then don't," he said calmly.
"Just don't pretend you don't care."
Her breath caught.
She hadn't expected patience.
Especially not from him.
"I'm not asking you to decide today," he continued softly.
"I'm just asking you not to run."
Aira stared at him.
Really stared.
This wasn't the boy everyone warned her about.
This wasn't a menace.
This was someone standing in front of her, vulnerable without demanding anything back.
"I won't run," she whispered.
Reyhan's shoulders relaxed slightly — like he'd been holding tension he hadn't even realized was there.
"That's enough," he said. "For now."
The bell rang, sharp and sudden.
Students began moving again, reality snapping back into place.
Aira turned toward her class.
Then hesitated.
Reyhan noticed instantly. "What?"
She took a breath.
Turned back to him.
"I didn't say no," she said quietly.
His lips curved — not a smirk.
Not a tease.
Something softer.
"I noticed."
Aira shook her head, flustered. "You're annoying."
He grinned. "And you're still here."
She walked away before he could say anything else — heart racing, steps lighter than before.
Behind her, Reyhan watched her go.
Not chasing.
Not calling her back.
Just staying.
Because sometimes…
waiting was its own kind of choice.
RULE #26: Don't let Reyhan Malhotra wait for your answer.
Because even when you hesitate…
he'll stay like he already knows it's worth it.