The morning drifted by in quiet waves.
Lectures. Notes. Passing conversations.
The usual rhythm of campus life.
But beneath all of it, my thoughts kept circling back to breakfast. Amara's dramatic shock, Lela's gentle concern, Chelley's raised brows. Their voices overlapped in my head in a loop that refused to fade.
You smoked?
Be careful with him.
None of it should have mattered as much as it did, yet it clung to my skin the way glitter does after a party, stubborn and impossible to shake off.
By the time my last class ended, I wanted fresh air more than anything. The wide hallway leading toward the courtyard glowed with late afternoon sunlight streaming through tall windows, bouncing off polished floors. Students moved around me in a blur of backpacks, chatter, and warm light. I exhaled slowly and adjusted the strap of my bag.
Then I heard it.
"Zuri."
I stopped instantly.
His voice reached me before he did. Deep, warm, grounded, steady. It wrapped around me in a way that made something in my chest tighten before I could think.
I turned.
Karros stood a few steps away, one hand tucked into the pocket of his navy hoodie, the other relaxed at his side. He looked effortless. Confident. Entirely unbothered by the curious glances people sent his way. The hoodie framed his shoulders in a way that made him look even taller, even more impossible to ignore.
He walked toward me with that same quiet presence I was beginning to recognize. Calm without trying. Intense without forcing it. When he stopped in front of me, he offered a small smile that lingered longer in my chest than it should have.
"You walked right past me earlier," he said.
I blinked. "I didn't even see you."
"That is why I said you walked past me." He raised a brow. "You looked focused. Like you were trying not to think about something."
I looked away, fighting a smile. "Or someone?"
He huffed out a soft laugh and tilted his head slightly. "Maybe. You tell me."
He made teasing feel natural. Easy. Like he reached into me without asking and pulled out reactions I did not know I still had the capacity to give.
"My friends gave me a lot to think about," I admitted.
His expression shifted. The humor softened, but the warmth stayed. "About me?"
"Yes."
He did not stiffen. He did not act defensive or offended. Instead, he leaned closer with a quiet, almost careful ease, lowering his voice without making it heavy.
"What did they say?"
"That you are complicated."
He chuckled and shook his head. "They are not wrong."
"And intense."
"Still not wrong."
"And they think I should be careful."
That made him pause. Not with ego, but with curiosity. His gaze softened, focusing entirely on me.
"And what do you think?"
I swallowed and searched his face. There was no pressure in his expression. No attempt to sway me. Just openness and something quietly sincere.
"I think," I said, breathing out slowly, "I want to make up my own mind."
His smile grew slower. Deeper. More genuine. "Good. Because I would rather you see me yourself than through anyone else's filter."
A student brushed past me, and I stepped sideways without thinking. The shift brought me closer to him. His eyes dropped for a second, noticing the space between us, before rising to meet mine again.
"You look tired," he said gently. "Long day?"
"Very."
"Want some company on your walk out?"
It was not pushy or flirty. Just offered. And the worst part was that I wanted to say yes instantly.
But hesitation tugged at me, not from fear but from uncertainty about what exactly this was turning into.
"I have to stop by the library first," I lied softly.
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Alright." A small pause followed. "But do not disappear on me again."
My breath caught. "Why?"
His voice deepened, warm and startlingly honest. "Because I like talking to you."
Before I could respond, he brushed past me, his shoulder grazing mine with the lightest touch, leaving warmth behind. He glanced back once as he walked away. I looked back too with a flirty expression on my face. "Damn, it would have been so cool if I didn't look back" I thought to myself and I hurried off to my next lecture.
The sun was slipping below the hostel rooftops by the time I stepped out of my final lecture. My brain felt fried and my stomach growled. I headed to the tuck shop, staring at the snack shelf and debating between a doughnut and pretending to be healthy.
A familiar voice murmured behind me, close enough to stir the hairs on the back of my neck.
"Get the doughnut."
I froze.
Turned.
Karros stood there with his hood up, hands in his pockets, like he had been waiting for me.
But this time, something clicked in my head.
He had been at the hallway earlier.
He had been near the courtyard.
He was here now.
He always appeared around me without warning.
How does he keep finding me?
How does he always show up exactly where I am?
Like a polar bear tracking its prey through a snowstorm.
Silent. Precise. Certain.
A chill ran up my spine.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Something I did not understand yet.
I tried not to sound too pleased. "And why should I listen to you?"
He stepped closer and shrugged lightly. "Because it has been a long day and you look like you need something sweet."
Before I could respond, he reached past me, grabbed a doughnut and a milkshake, and handed both to the cashier.
"I can pay for my own snacks," I protested.
"Too late." He placed the milkshake in my hand. "Take it."
Heat crept up my cheeks. "Thanks."
He watched me for a moment, eyes too focused, too intense, and then cleared his throat.
"Are you free?" he asked. "For a walk."
"A walk where?"
Another hesitation. "There is something I want to show you."
Something pulled in my chest.
"Okay," I said. "Lead the way."
We walked past the hostel gates, into the wooded edge of campus. Trees surrounded us, the ground uneven, stones crunching underfoot. The soft sound of rushing water grew louder until the trees opened into a clearing.
A hidden river lay before us.
Wide. Dark. Catching the last streak of sunset.
"It is beautiful," I whispered.
He did not look at the river. He looked at me. "Yes. It is."
We sat on a large rock near the bank. He rubbed his palms together and stared at the water.
"I wanted you to see this place," he said.
"That is all?"
His gaze slid to mine. "Maybe not all."
Silence stretched between us, soft and charged.
I studied him carefully. "Can I ask you something?"
He tensed. "Depends."
I smiled lightly. "Relax. I am not interrogating you. I just… noticed something that night."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"You always seem to be around," I said softly. "Even before today."
His eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Do I?"
"Yes. It is like…" I hesitated, then continued. "Like you keep finding me."
He looked away sharply, almost startled by how close I was to the truth he did not know how to tell.
"Zuri," he said quietly, "I cannot explain that."
Before I could push further, the wind brushed my hair against his arm. He went still. Very still.
Maybe it was that stillness that pulled something bold out of me.
Maybe it was the hidden place.
Maybe it was how he kept glancing at my lips.
I leaned in.
Just a little.
Just enough for our breaths to mix.
That was when he jerked back like the moment burned him.
"I cannot," he said, voice rough.
My stomach dropped. "Did I misread something?"
"No." Too quick. Too raw. "It is not you. It is not that."
"Then what is it?"
He stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair, breathing unevenly.
"Zuri. Please. Do not ask me that."
He looked truly conflicted. Truly torn.
"I should not have brought you here," he whispered. "I should not be here with you."
The words hit harder than I expected.
"Why?" I asked softly.
His eyes held something that looked like longing pressed against regret.
"I just cannot."
That was all he gave me.
He stepped back, but his eyes never left mine.
"I will walk you back," he said.
He reached for my hand, stopped mid air, fingers trembling, then let it fall.
We walked back in silence.
Walking beside him in silence, I felt emptier with every step—hollow in a way that made no sense, as if something had been offered and then pulled away before I even understood it.