That evening, Amina returned to the library. Leila was already there, waiting with a stack of books. "Thought we could study together," she said, pushing the books toward Amina.
Hours passed. Their shoulders brushed over notes, fingers accidentally touching pens and pages. Amina felt electricity in every contact. When they finally left, the corridors were empty, and the air felt charged. "See you tomorrow?" Leila asked, voice low. Amina nodded, barely breathing.