[Scene: University Library – Late Afternoon]
The soft hush of the library stretched across the tall windows, sunlight pouring in amber streams over rows of desks. Students murmured in whispers, some asleep on books, others scribbling frantically.
Alvira slipped inside, her scarf loosely draped, a stack of reference books cradled in her arms. She moved to her usual quiet corner, away from the restless crowd.
But today, her corner wasn't empty.
Ilham sat there. Head bent, pen tapping absently, glasses perched on his nose. No mask, no cap. Just… Kim Taejun....Oh....No!.... He's..... Ilham Now....
For a second, she froze.
Ilham's POV
I didn't expect anyone to sit here. This corner had always been safe, quiet, anonymous.
But when I looked up — it was her.
The girl who somehow made the air around her feel steadier.
"Do you mind?" she asked softly, clutching her books like a shield.
I shook my head. "Not at all."
She sat across from me, carefully arranging her notes. Neither of us spoke. Only the rustle of pages and the faint scratching of pens filled the space.
[Scene: The Quiet Exchange]
Minutes passed, but Ilham found himself glancing up more often than writing. Alvira, sensing the weight of his gaze, kept her eyes fixed on the lines of her book — though her pulse betrayed her calm exterior.
Her pen slipped, rolling toward him. Ilham caught it mid-fall.
"You've got fast reflexes," she said, finally meeting his eyes.
He smiled faintly. "Years of practice catching microphones."
The small joke broke the barrier. A ripple of laughter escaped her lips before she quickly covered it, embarrassed in the hushed room.
[Scene: The Shared Silence]
Time slowed. They didn't need long conversations. The sound of turning pages, the occasional clink of Isa's coffee cup — it felt like a rhythm only they shared.
At one point, Alvira shifted uncomfortably, stretching her shoulders. Isa noticed.
"You've been sitting too long," he murmured. "Take a break. Your back will hate you later."
Her eyes softened. Such a simple, ordinary concern — yet it pierced deeper than the flashy words she'd heard from anyone else.
[Scene: Closing the Encounter]
The library clock chimed. Alvira began gathering her books.
"I should head back before the dorm locks up," she said quietly.
Ilham rose at the same time. "I'll walk you out."
Outside, the evening air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor. Students hurried past, wrapped in scarves and chatter.
They walked side by side — not too close, not too far.
At the curb, her bus arrived with a sigh of brakes. She turned to him, hesitant.
"Thank you… for today," she said, words layered with more meaning than she intended.
Ilham gave a small nod, his voice low. "Sometimes, the simplest moments are the ones that stay the longest."
The bus door opened. She climbed in, settling by the window.
As the bus pulled away, she looked back once. He was still standing there, hands tucked in his pockets, watching until she disappeared from view.
[Closing Monologue – Both POVs]
Alvira:
Ya Allah, why do these fleeting moments feel heavier than entire years? Protect my heart, guide me.
Ilham:
I used to chase stages, applause, lights.
But sitting across from her in silence… felt louder than any crowd I've ever faced.
To be continued...