He wasn't supposed to notice her. Not someone like Zayn.
He was the kind of boy who drew attention just by walking into a room—trouble clinging to him like a shadow, charm layered over every smirk. People talked about him. They always did. Some with awe, others with rolled eyes. But no one ever ignored him.
And yet… he noticed her.
It was after class, the day her nerves almost swallowed her whole during that presentation. She had just stepped outside, still shaking a little from the adrenaline, trying not to replay every awkward sentence in her mind. And then—he was there.
"Didn't expect that from you," he said, tilting his head, his eyes curious. "You were... actually kinda amazing."
She laughed, unsure if it was a joke. "Are you serious?"
He nodded. "Dead serious. You surprised me."
It wasn't much. Just a few words. But the way he said them—casual, honest—it unlocked something inside her. Like maybe she could be seen. Maybe she was more than she thought.
For the next few weeks, Zayn became something unexpected in her life: light. In between his smirks and mischievous grins, he made her feel visible. Special. And that scared her more than she liked to admit.
Everyone warned her. He's not serious. He's just playing around. And maybe they were right.
But in those fleeting moments—the laughs, the long glances, the way he seemed to really listen—she didn't care. For once, she felt like the version of herself she always wanted to be.
What scared her more than him not liking her… was the possibility that he did. That someone like him could see someone like her and want to stay.
And she didn't know if she was ready for that.
It was raining the next time they spoke. A light drizzle that blurred the windows and gave everything a softness she wished she could wrap herself in.
She had stayed late in the library, hoping the quiet would silence her spiraling thoughts. It didn't. Her mind kept drifting—to her shaky self-confidence, to the way people looked past her, and, uninvited, to him.
As she stepped outside, the rain had grown bolder. She didn't have an umbrella.
Of course he was there—leaning against the wall just under the edge of the building's overhang, dry, casual, like the rain had parted for him out of respect.
Zayn.
He looked at her, grinned. "You always forget umbrellas?"
She laughed awkwardly. "Only when I need them."
Without a word, he held his jacket out—slipping it off one shoulder and casually draping it over her head like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You gonna walk with me or stand there pretending you like the rain?"
She hesitated. Not because she didn't want to—but because walking beside him felt like more than just avoiding the rain. It felt like choosing something risky. Something that might matter.
But she nodded.
They walked slowly, the sound of their footsteps drowned by soft rainfall. He didn't speak right away. And neither did she. But for once, the silence between them didn't feel empty.
When they reached the gate, he paused. "You know…" he started, then stopped himself.
She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "What?"
Zayn shrugged, eyes flicking toward hers. "Nothing. You'll figure it out."
And just like that, he stepped back into the rain.
She stood there for a moment, jacket still warm on her shoulders, wondering what it was he wasn't saying.
And why her heart was racing as if it already knew.