Chapter 3 Between Books and Breaths

Alia's apartment had never felt so quiet.

After Jamal left the night before, she didn't sleep. Not properly. Not with the echo of his voice in her ears and the memory of his arms wrapped around her waist lingering on her skin like smoke. Her body had gone still in the spot he kissed her forehead, as though time had paused to acknowledge the shift between them.

Something had changed.

Not drastically. Not loudly.

But deeply.

And deeply was dangerous.

By morning, she tried to bury it under her usual routine. Hot shower. Strong coffee. Three spoonfuls of peanut butter because she was too tired to cook. And then-textbooks.

Her exams were in less than a week, and despite everything she carried-her chronic illness, the emotional walls she built, the unspoken expectations of being a Colonel's daughter-Alia was nothing if not relentless. She'd always taken pride in being the student who never asked for help, the girl who didn't make excuses.

But today, her focus betrayed her.

Every line of pharmacokinetics blurred.

Every chart of drug metabolism looked like a love letter she couldn't decipher.

"Dammit," she muttered, slamming the textbook shut.

Her phone buzzed.

Jamal: Studying, or avoiding me?

She stared at the screen, lips twitching.

Alia: I don't avoid things. I delete them.

Jamal: Good. I'm outside. Don't delete me yet.

She froze.

What?

She walked to the window and peeked through the curtain. There he was-leaning against his car, casual in a black hoodie, arms crossed, sunglasses on despite the soft morning sun.

It had been only a few hours since he left. And he was back.

Of course he was.

Jamal had always found ways to show up-during her hospital stays, on long days when her body gave up and she pretended it didn't. Even before she'd ever said his name with softness, he was there, showing up in small ways no one else noticed.

Alia opened the door, arms folded, heart racing. "Didn't the Academy call roll this morning?"

"I'm on pass," he shrugged. "Long weekend for upper cadets. I could've stayed at the barracks. But I figured watching you torture yourself with textbooks would be more entertaining."

She smirked despite herself. "So, you came to mock me?"

He stepped forward, eyes twinkling. "No. I came to watch a goddess slay academic dragons."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're breathtaking."

Her breath caught again. She hated that he did that to her-disarmed her with just words. She looked away, hiding a smile. "If you're staying, you better be useful. I need someone to test me."

"Done." He walked past her and made himself comfortable at the dining table, pulling a chair closer and motioning for her to join.

Alia stared for a moment, then grabbed her textbook and notebooks, silently impressed.

For the next two hours, they studied.

Well-she studied. He flipped through her textbooks, asked thoughtful questions, cross-checked notes from her classes with online flashcards he pulled up on his phone.

"You're good at this," she murmured, cheeks pink from focus and embarrassment.

"I paid attention," he said without looking up. "You talk about pharmacology in your sleep, you know."

She shot him a glare.

"I'm serious," he said, finally meeting her eyes. "You're always working. Always fighting. You don't even see how powerful that is."

Alia stared at him for a beat too long.

Then she sighed, letting her head fall onto the table with a soft groan. "Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning."

Jamal pushed her hair gently from her face. "You're not. You're swimming upstream. There's a difference."

His fingers brushed her temple. Warm. Reassuring.

The air between them shifted again.

He leaned closer, elbows on the table now, and for the first time, Alia didn't pull away. She didn't shrink from the intensity in his gaze or pretend it didn't stir something inside her chest.

"You don't have to carry everything alone," he said. "You don't have to be everything all the time."

"I do," she whispered. "Because I'm sick. Because I'm a woman. Because I'm the daughter of a man everyone expects greatness from."

"Then let me carry the silence with you," Jamal said quietly. "Let me be your softness. You're already your strength."

Alia blinked.

There it was again.

The part of him that cracked her open when she didn't want to be seen.

"I'm not ready," she admitted.

"I know," he said. "But I am. And I'll wait."

Silence stretched.

Then she stood up to return her books to the shelf. He followed her movement with his eyes. As she turned back toward him, they crossed paths in the narrow hallway between her kitchen and the living room.

She tried to step aside.

He didn't move.

Instead, he leaned down, hands resting lightly on the wall behind her, caging her in-but not forcefully. Gently. Waiting.

Their bodies didn't touch.

But it felt like they did.

Her heart began its wild rhythm again.

"I've been sneaking out of the Academy for years just to watch you from across the street," Jamal said softly. "When you moved here... I made sure I could still find you. I didn't know when you'd let me in. I just knew I had to be close."

Alia swallowed. "Why?"

"Because I knew you were the one I'd love until my last breath," he whispered.

She wanted to laugh, to scoff-to push him away with sarcasm.

But she couldn't.

Her eyes were stinging.

She hated that he was making her feel. And yet... she didn't want him to stop.

"Please don't break me," she whispered, voice trembling.

"I won't," he promised. "I've waited too long to lose you."

And before she could respond, he stepped back.

The space between them returned.

The storm, however, stayed within her.