Chapter 2 Shadows and Rain

The rain hadn't stopped all night.

Alia sat curled up in her favorite corner of the couch, wrapped in a soft brown shawl, her pharmacy textbook lying open on her lap. But she wasn't reading. Her eyes, though wide open, were fixed on the dripping glass window. The pitter-patter of raindrops mirrored the quiet storm within her.

Evenings like this reminded her why she loved solitude. Silence didn't ask questions. It didn't press her to define things she wasn't ready to confront-especially not the feelings that had begun to stir, uninvited and warm, like an ember refusing to die out.

Her thoughts wandered to him again-Jamal.

The man she wished would stop looking at her that way. That intense gaze that made her feel seen in ways no one else ever had. It scared her more than anything. Because deep down, she feared what it might mean if she ever allowed herself to believe it was real.

And yet... he came.

Even now.

Alia heard the knock before she saw the silhouette at the door. Her heart jumped as she moved quickly, pulling the shawl tighter as she reached for the knob.

"Jamal..." His name left her lips in a whisper, caught between disbelief and relief.

He stood there, soaked, rain trailing down the folds of his neatly pressed cadet uniform, but his eyes-those eyes-held nothing but calm. "You weren't picking up," he said softly.

"I didn't hear my phone."

His lips curved faintly. "I figured."

She stepped aside wordlessly, letting him in. The scent of the rain clung to him, along with something unmistakably warm-comforting. Familiar.

Jamal didn't speak at first. He just stood in the doorway, watching her, water dripping onto the tile. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached for the towel she always kept by the door-for him.

"You're always doing this," she muttered, shaking her head as he dried his hair.

"I'd do worse for you, and you know that," he said, still not looking away.

"You shouldn't," she replied, her voice softer than intended.

"But I already have."

There it was again-that gentle persistence that wrapped around her defenses like ivy. Jamal never pushed. He never forced her hand. He simply stayed. And that, more than anything, made her afraid.

"You're all the way from the barracks. That's-"

"A 45-minute drive. I know. Worth it," he said, pulling off his jacket and hanging it on the rack. "Besides, it's not like I haven't done this before."

Alia sighed, defeated by his consistency. "You're soaked."

"I'll dry."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Her on the couch, him leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her.

Then he spoke. "Alia."

She didn't look up.

"I need you to stop pushing me away when you're hurting."

Her fingers curled around the edge of her shawl. "It's easier."

"Not for me."

A long pause followed.

When she finally lifted her head, her eyes were misted. "I never wanted to feel this way," she said, barely above a whisper. "Not about anyone. Especially not someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Someone I could fall for."

She stood abruptly, walking toward the kitchen, trying to avoid him, trying to create space again-emotional and physical.

"You should've told me," he said gently behind her, "I would've handed it to you."

She ignored him.

But on her way back to her reading spot, Jamal reached out and gently grabbed her wrist. His hand was warm and firm, and the contact sent a shiver down her spine. Before she could even react, he tugged her forward.

Her body collided with his chest.

Her breath caught.

His other hand circled around her waist, firm and deliberate, drawing her in until they were inches apart. She could feel his breath on her cheek-slow, steady, heart-wrenching. His uniform was damp against her clothes, but she didn't pull away.

She couldn't.

"Alia..." he whispered, the sound of her name sending goosebumps down her spine.

She looked up-only to immediately look away, unable to hold the intensity in his eyes. His gaze was burning, full of words he hadn't yet spoken, feelings he'd kept tightly reined for too long.

She'd never seen him like this.

He'd always kept his distance. Never touched her. Never crossed the invisible line she'd drawn.

Until now.

Her heart pounded in her ears, and she was sure he could feel it echoing between them.

"I need you to hear me tonight," he said, voice low and serious. "I'll never force you to love me. But I will never leave. Not until I have you. And even if I don't... I'll still love you, protect you, and cherish you-from a distance if I must."

She felt her breath stutter.

He searched her face. "I want you to give me a chance, Alia. I know you're aware I spoke to your dad years ago. I didn't want to burden you with what I felt. You were too young then. But now... I need you to know I meant it. Every word."

There was so much sincerity in his voice it hurt.

He wasn't just declaring his love. He was baring himself. And Alia... didn't know how to shield herself from it.

But something shifted in her chest.

A slow, reluctant surrender.

She finally looked up into his eyes.

And she nodded.

"I'll try," she whispered, so softly it was almost lost in the sound of the rain.

But Jamal heard it.

He exhaled, as though he'd been holding his breath for years. Then, gently, reverently, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. Not rushed. Not lustful.

Sacred.

Alia closed her eyes, letting the moment wash over her. The first touch. The first truth. The first step toward something neither of them could undo.

Something powerful.

Something real.