It was like living in two worlds.
By day, she was the diligent student, the ordinary girl who laughed with friends, scribbled notes, dodged professors.By night, she belonged to him.
The rooftop had become theirs. A stolen kingdom of shadows and whispered promises, where the rules of the world no longer mattered.
Riyan was different there. Softer. His sharp edges dulled, his arrogance fading into quiet vulnerability.
He told her about the pressure from his family, the weight of expectations he wore like invisible chains. She listened, her hand slipping into his without thought.
"You make it feel lighter," he admitted one night, voice low, almost grudging.Her chest tightened. Because she knew he meant it.
She was dangerous.
Not because she argued with him, or because she kept finding cracks in his armor.But because he liked it.
Liked the way she challenged him, called him out, refused to let him drown in his own ego.Liked the way she smiled at him like he wasn't just the campus heartthrob, but a boy—flawed, messy, human.
Every stolen hour left him craving the next. Every kiss left him hungrier.
But it wasn't just the fire anymore.It was the quiet, too. The way she leaned on his shoulder under the stars. The way her laughter wrapped around him in the dark.
He was falling.And for the first time in his life, the fall terrified him.
One evening, they didn't even kiss.
They just sat side by side on the rooftop, her head tucked under his chin, his arm curved protectively around her.
No words. No sparks. Just silence and heartbeat.
It was scarier than the kisses. Because in that stillness, she realized—
This wasn't just a crush. Not just a secret fling.She was in too deep.
And sooner or later, the world would find a way to rip it apart.