Chapter Eight – Cracks in the Wall
The next morning, the academy kitchen felt heavier than usual. Gone were the safety nets of teamwork and shared baskets. Each student now stood alone at their own station, their own ingredients laid out before them like both promise and threat.
Amira's fingers tightened around her knife handle. She could still hear Chef Marco's words from yesterday echoing in her head: No partners. No safety net.
This was it. No Daniel to spar with, no one to push against. Just her. And the silence that came with being forced to rely on no one but herself.
She told herself she should feel relieved. No cocky smirks to throw her off, no infuriating nicknames whispered in her ear. But as she looked across the room and saw Daniel already rolling up his sleeves, focused and unbothered, something twisted in her chest.
She hated admitting it even to herself—but a part of her missed the friction. Missed the chaos. Missed… him.
The kitchen burst into motion around her. Clattering pans, boiling water hissing, knives chopping in rapid succession. Orders from Marco snapped across the room like sparks from a fire. But for Amira, all of it blurred into the background. Her focus, unwilling as it was, drifted to the boy two stations down.
They were supposed to be chopping in silence, creating their own dishes. Yet the real battle wasn't just with the food in front of them—it was in the tiny glances stolen across the counter, the way her hands trembled slightly when she thought he might be watching.
"Careful," Daniel murmured when her hand slipped on the knife, his voice pitched low enough for only her. He had drifted closer than she realized, just enough to steady her wrist with his hand.
The warmth of his touch seared her skin. Her heart betrayed her, hammering far too loud.
"I don't need your help," she whispered, though her voice lacked the usual bite.
Daniel's lips curved into that maddening half-smile. "Maybe not. But you don't seem to mind it either."
The words hung heavy between them, charged with meaning Amira wasn't ready to face. She jerked her gaze back to her board, forcing herself to focus on the vegetables. On the dish. On anything but him.
But the truth was impossible to deny—the wall she had so carefully built around herself was starting to crack.
"Amira, you're blushing!" Layla's sing-song voice carried from across the room.
Amira froze, cheeks heating instantly. Heads turned, curious. And Daniel? He looked far too smug, leaning casually against the counter like he'd just won some invisible game.
"Shut up, Layla," Amira muttered, but her voice wavered.
Later, when Marco finally dismissed them, Amira was the first to bolt out into the corridor. She pressed her palm against her chest, as if that would calm the storm inside. She hated this—hated how easily he unraveled her.
But before she could escape, his voice followed.
"Amira."
Soft. Serious. Not mocking this time.
She stopped. Against her better judgment, she turned.
Daniel stepped closer, his usual armor of arrogance stripped away. His eyes—earnest, searching—locked onto hers.
"You don't always have to fight me," he said quietly. "I'm not the enemy you think I am."
Her breath caught. The air between them felt fragile, like glass that could shatter at the slightest touch.
"Then what are you?" she whispered.
For a moment, he didn't answer. He just looked at her—really looked at her—as if trying to read the secrets she tried so hard to bury.
"I'm the one who sees you," he finally said, voice rougher than she'd ever heard. "Even when you try so hard to hide."
Her heart stumbled. No retort came to her lips. No witty armor, no sharp edges. Just silence, and the terrifying, exhilarating truth that maybe—just maybe—she didn't want to hate him anymore.
When he leaned closer, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, Amira's lips parted in surprise. The world tilted, pulling them toward something she couldn't undo.
But footsteps echoed down the hall, snapping the spell. Amira jerked back, her chest heaving, her thoughts in chaos.
Daniel didn't push. He only gave her one last lingering look before turning away, leaving her pressed against the wall, shaken to her very core.
For the first time since entering the academy, Amira realized her greatest challenge wasn't just in the kitchen.
It was in her heart.
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