Chapter One — The Almost

**Irin**

It was Saturday.

Which meant university.

The bus rattled like it always did—windows half-open, the smell of dust and morning air clinging to everything. Irin sat by the window, her head leaning lightly against the glass. From the moment she’d woken up, something had felt… off. Her body was heavy. Her head throbbed dully, like a warning she didn’t have time to listen to.

But assignments didn’t wait.

She was a **third-year student**. She couldn’t afford to fail now—not over something she had already completed. It felt unjust, honestly. Campus started at **8:00 a.m.**, yet she had to leave home before sunrise just to make it on time. Two hours of travel for a few hours of lectures. Her mother complained about this university choice often. Irin usually brushed it off.

This morning, though, the burden felt heavier.

By the time she reached campus, her legs were weak, but she pushed through. She submitted the assignment—her fingers trembling slightly as she handed it over. Relief washed over her, brief and hollow.

“You don’t look okay,” Wania said, studying her face.

“I’m fine,” Irin replied automatically.

“You’re not,” Wania insisted. “Go home. Get rest.”

Irin didn’t argue. For once, her body won.

She got permission to leave, but lecture time meant no one could accompany her. So she walked alone, the campus eerily quiet, classrooms full while the paths outside stood empty.

The route to the bus stand was long. Too long. Suburban. Green, but isolated.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her head—*Why this university, Irin?*

She sighed and kept walking.

Halfway across the road, the world tilted.

Her steps faltered. Her vision blurred. Then—

**BEEP. BEEP.**

A horn blasted from her left.

She turned sharply, startled, her heart jumping to her throat. A car screeched to a stop in front of her. It didn’t touch her. Not even close.

But the shock was enough.

The ground rushed up to meet her.

And everything went black.

---

**Shahzain**

*Beep… beep.*

A veined hand slapped the alarm clock silent.

Shahzain exhaled and stared at the ceiling.

“Okay,” he muttered, sitting up. “Today, peace.”

Saturday. No meetings. No family obligations. Just him, the road, and a backpack already waiting by the door.

He showered, dressed simply, and packed light. His mother was in the living room when he came out.

“I’ll be back late,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Drive safe,” she replied, smiling.

He got into his car, turned the music up, and let the rhythm take over as he drove. Traffic clogged the main road, horns and impatience everywhere.

“Not today,” he said to himself, turning onto an alternate route.

The scenery changed—greener, quieter. Suburbs. The kind of place time forgot.

Then—

A girl stepped into the road.

She stopped suddenly. Right in the middle.

Shahzain’s heart slammed.

He hit the horn. Once. Twice.

She turned toward him—and froze.

“Move,” he growled under his breath.

She didn’t.

He slammed the brakes.

The car screeched to a halt.

She fell.

“Oh—no. No, no.”

He jumped out instantly, breath sharp in his chest. The car hadn’t touched her. Not even a scratch.

“She fainted,” he realized, kneeling beside her.

His mind raced. *Public road. Unknown girl. Cameras? People?*

He hesitated—just for a second.

Then he clenched his jaw.

“Emergency,” he muttered. “That’s all this is.”

He gently turned her to her side.

She was burning.

“Fever,” he said quietly. “Damn it.”

Up close, her face caught his attention. Soft. Pale. Too still.

“She looks… good,” he thought before snapping himself out of it.

“Focus,” he scolded himself. “Not the time.”

Still—something about her felt… familiar.

“Have I seen you before?” he murmured, then scoffed. “Get a grip.”

Carefully, he lifted her and placed her in the car, grabbing a water bottle from his bag. He sprinkled water on her face.

Nothing.

Again.

Her eyelashes fluttered.

“Come on,” he said, voice low but steady. “Stay with me.”

Her eyes slowly opened.

---

**Irin**

Cold water hit my face.

I gasped, my eyes flying open—and panic surged instantly.

Car interior.

Leather seats.

A stranger.

I tried to sit up, but my body betrayed me. No strength. None.

“Easy,” a voice said.

Deep. Calm. Male.

I turned my head toward him—and my breath caught.

*No.*

This wasn’t possible.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, concern evident but controlled. “You fainted. You’ve got a fever. Do you want me to take you to a hospital? Or should I call someone to pick you up?”

I stared at him.

Really looked.

Sharp jaw. Focused eyes. Familiar presence.

My heart skipped—once, painfully.

*Him.*

Not love. I wouldn’t dare call it that.

Just… the man who once existed only in my thoughts.

Is this fate?

Or is my fever finally making me hallucinate?

Either way—

Something had begun.

And neither of us knew yet how deeply this moment would mark us.