The next morning, I arrived on campus early.
Not because I wanted to see Zayyen.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
I just wanted to finish the assignment before class started.
It was a reasonable excuse.
Reasonable until I saw an empty seat beside mine and unconsciously glanced toward the classroom door.
I immediately felt stupid.
I lowered my head and opened my laptop.
Hana, focus.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps coming from the door.
I didn't turn around.
I tried not to turn around.
Until someone stopped beside my desk.
“Morning.”
I looked up.
Zayyen.
“Morning.”
He sat in his usual seat.
Nothing was strange.
Nothing was different.
And yet I suddenly felt far too aware of his presence.
I turned my attention back to the screen.
“The book you mentioned yesterday?” Zayyen said.
I had completely forgotten.
“Oh.”
I took the book from my bag and handed it to him.
Zayyen accepted it.
“Thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
He flipped through a few pages.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
I pointed to the section in question.
“Yeah.”
Zayyen read for a moment.
Then he took out his phone.
“I have an article that might work better for your assignment.”
He sent me a link.
I opened the message.
“This is good.”
“Read the third section. There's a discussion you can use.”
I nodded.
“Thanks again.”
Zayyen gave me a small smile.
“You've said thanks twice.”
“Because you've helped me twice.”
“Then I guess we're even.”
I laughed softly.
The conversation was simple.
But after Zayyen went back to reading, I realized I was smiling to myself.
I quickly schooled my expression.
I couldn't.
I didn't want to let something this small make my heart go too far.
When the professor started explaining the material, I tried to concentrate.
But about half an hour later, the professor divided us into several small groups to discuss the assignment.
I was grouped with three people I barely knew.
Zayyen was in another group.
I felt a little relieved.
There was space.
There was distance.
Maybe that was a good thing.
But as the discussion went on, we ran into a problem.
One of our group members didn't understand the part of the assignment they were supposed to handle.
We tried explaining it several times.
It still didn't work.
I started to get frustrated.
Not because they didn't understand.
But because time kept passing.
“What if we just change this part?” I asked.
“We can't,” one of my classmates replied.
“Why not?”
“Because there's not enough data.”
I looked at the notes on the table.
They were right.
I was wrong.
I took a breath.
“Okay. Let's start over.”
I began rearranging the assignment of tasks.
Not long afterward, Zayyen's group finished first.
They stood and left the classroom.
Zayyen walked past our table.
He stopped for a moment.
“Still having trouble?”
I shook my head.
“A little.”
He looked at our notes.
“This part?”
I nodded.
“There's not enough data.”
I looked at him.
“That's why we're confused.”
Zayyen thought for a moment.
“You can use the source I sent Hana yesterday.”
I turned to him at once.
“You don't mind?”
“No.”
One of my group members spoke up.
“Could we get it, then?”
Zayyen nodded.
“Of course.”
He sent the file to us.
Nothing more.
There was no reason for him to stay.
So he left.
I stared at the screen.
For some reason, I felt a little disappointed when he walked away.
And that feeling made me even more uncomfortable.
I started asking myself:
Why did I want him to stay?
I didn't have an answer.
That afternoon, I went to the library alone.
I wanted to finish my assignment.
But after almost an hour, my mind still wasn't really on the pages of the book.
I read the same sentence three times.
It wasn't sinking in.
I closed the book.
I picked up my phone.
There were no messages.
I set it down again.
Then I felt annoyed with myself.
What exactly are you waiting for?
I wasn't waiting for a message.
I had no reason to wait for a message.
Zayyen wasn't anyone to me.
Not yet.
I stopped at the last word.
Not yet?
I shook my head.
No.
I couldn't think like that.
I opened the book again.
Someone sat in the chair across from me.
Zila.
She set down her bag.
“You're here by yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Where's Zayyen?”
I looked straight at her.
“Zila.”
“I was just asking.”
“Why do you always bring up his name?”
Zila smiled.
“Because every time I mention him, you change.” She raised both eyebrows.
“I don't change.”
“You just argued with me before I even finished speaking.”
I fell silent.
Zila opened a bottle of water.
“Han.”
“Hmm?”
“Can I be honest?”
I nodded.
“If you're starting to like him, there's nothing wrong with that.”
I looked at the table.
“But?”
“Just don't make him the center of your life.”
I looked up.
Zila continued.
“You still have school. Family. A future. Your relationship with Allah. Don't let one person make everything else seem unimportant.”
I didn't answer.
Because that was exactly what scared me most.
I didn't want to become someone whose life depended on another person's attention.
If someone came into my life someday, I wanted him to be part of the journey.
Not the entire destination.
Zila touched my hand for a moment.
“Feelings aren't a sin.”
I looked at her.
“What you need to be careful about is what you do after you develop those feelings.”
The words were simple.
But they felt exactly right.
That night, I went home later than usual.
I stopped for a moment at the campus mosque before returning to my dorm.
After prayer, I sat there for a few minutes.
I didn't pray right away.
I just sat in silence.
Maybe all this time, I'd been so busy asking for my heart to be protected that I'd forgotten to ask how I could protect it myself.
I opened my phone.
There was a message.
From Zayyen.
Zayyen: Are you home yet?
I stared at the message.
I didn't reply right away.
Not because I wanted to make him wait.
I just wanted to make sure my answer wouldn't open up an unnecessary conversation.
Finally, I typed:
Hana: Not yet. I'm still on campus.
A short while later, he replied.
Zayyen: It's late. Be careful.
I smiled faintly.
Then I typed:
Hana: Yeah. Thanks.
That was it.
I set down my phone.
There was no long conversation.
There was no reason to keep it going.
And strangely, because the conversation was so brief, I felt calm.
I went home.
It started raining on the way.
Not heavily.
Just enough to make the road wet.
I stood beneath the roof of a bus stop while waiting for a ride.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Then a car stopped across the street.
I didn't pay much attention to it.
Until someone got out.
Zayyen.
I was startled.
He saw me from across the street.
Then he walked over.
“You haven't gone home yet?”
I shook my head.
“I haven't found a ride.”
Zayyen looked at the rain.
“Is your home still far?”
“About twenty minutes.”
He nodded.
“I'll wait until you get a ride.”
I immediately shook my head.
“You don't have to.”
“It's okay.”
“I can handle it myself.”
“I know.”
His answer left me speechless.
Zayyen didn't say that I needed protection.
He didn't say that I couldn't take care of myself.
He simply stood a few steps away from me.
Giving me space.
Not too close.
Not too far.
We waited in silence.
A few minutes later, a vehicle arrived.
I got ready to board.
Before getting in, I turned around.
“Zayyen.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
“Be careful.”
I got on.
As the vehicle began to move, I saw him still standing at the bus stop.
He didn't chase after me.
He didn't call out.
He didn't ask me to stay.
He only made sure I left safely.
I looked at the road ahead.
And for the first time, I understood something I'd never thought about before.
Maybe what makes someone seem kind isn't how close they can get.
Maybe it's how well they know when to keep their distance.
That night, I opened my notebook.
I wrote:
I'm starting to like someone.
I stared at the sentence for a long time.
Then I added:
But I don't want to lose myself just because I want him to choose me.
I closed the notebook.
After that, I prayed.
In my prayer, I came back to one name again.
This time, I didn't force myself to erase it.
I simply said,
“O Allah, if these feelings are good, teach me to care for them in a good way.”
I paused.
“And if he isn't meant for me, don't let me use my desires as an excuse to fight Your decree.”
For the first time, I didn't ask for Zayyen to be mine.
I only asked not to love the wrong way.
The next day, something changed.
Not between Zayyen and me.
But inside me.
I no longer wanted to rush to figure out what all those little acts of attention meant.
I wanted to get to know him as a person.
Not as someone I'd already made room for in my imagination.
Because maybe I didn't really know Zayyen yet.
I only knew the small part of himself that he showed me.
And I didn't want to love a shadow of someone I'd created myself.
I wanted to know who he really was.
What he was afraid of.
What made him angry.
What he was fighting for.
What he hid from the world.
And maybe
what had made him choose to always keep his distance.
I didn't know the answer yet.
But that morning, when I entered the classroom, Rayyan was already sitting in his seat.
He turned toward me.
Our eyes met.
He smiled.
I smiled back.
Then I sat down.
No one knew that something without a name was growing between us.
No one knew that I was learning to protect something that wasn't even mine yet.
And no one knew that a few weeks from now, a decision Zayyen made would make me question everything I'd just begun to understand.
Because that morning, before the professor arrived, Zayyen opened his phone.
His expression turned serious.
He read a message.
Then he put his phone away without saying a word.
I didn't know what the message said.
I didn't ask, either.
But for the first time, I saw something different in his eyes.
Not calm.
Not a smile.
But worry.
And I didn't yet know that the message he'd just received would be the reason Zayyen began to distance himself from me a few days later.
— TO BE CONTINUED IN EPISODE 4 —