Lisa's POV
It's been four days since I last saw him.
I told myself I wouldn't go back. That I'd forget him. That I'd just let it go like it never happened.
But the problem is... I can't.
Everywhere I go, I see him.
Not his face. Not his body.
But the feeling.
The way the air changed when he looked at me. The way silence didn't feel empty around him. The way one small glance from him made my world stop.
And now?
Now I feel like I'm drowning in a storm I walked into with a smile on my face.
I tried to distract myself.
I spent time with Dani and the girls. I watched movies. I scrolled through my phone like a robot. I even helped Mom in the kitchen—she was shocked, by the way.
But nothing worked.
Because I couldn't stop wondering…
Is he thinking about me too?
Or was I just another girl in a long line of broken things he left behind?
My heart didn't believe that.
But my mind? It started playing tricks on me.
Noha's POV
I hadn't left my penthouse in three days.
I hadn't gone to the bar.
I hadn't touched another drink.
Lisa haunted me.
Not like a ghost. But like a heartbeat I couldn't ignore.
I didn't know what this feeling was.
Was it guilt?
Was it weakness?
Was it something worse?
I told myself I wasn't going to text her again. That checking if she got home safe was a mistake. That I should erase her number and move on.
But I couldn't.
Because every time I closed my eyes—I saw her smile.
That damned smile.
So pure. So bright.
So deadly.
I couldn't protect her from myself.
And yet—I didn't want to let her go.
Lisa's POV
Late night.
Room dark.
Everyone asleep.
And me?
Staring at my phone like it might answer all my questions.
My thumb hovered over his name. I saved his number without telling anyone. I gave him the contact name Don't Text Him.
Cute, right?
Yeah. I hate myself sometimes.
I pressed call.
One ring…
Two rings…
Then—
"Lisa?" His voice was rough. Sleepy. But alert.
"Hi…" I breathed.
Silence.
Then I heard him exhale like he was holding it in for hours.
"Why are you calling?"
"I—I don't know. I just…"
"You couldn't sleep either," he said, finishing it for me.
"No."
Another pause.
I closed my eyes, biting my lip. "I miss you."
I didn't mean to say it.
It just came out.
And he didn't answer right away.
When he finally spoke, it was quiet. Fragile.
"I miss you too."
Noha's POV
She doesn't understand what she's doing to me.
She doesn't know that when she says she misses me—it breaks something in me.
Because I'm not built to be missed.
I'm built to disappear.
But now?
I'm starting to feel again.
And that… is dangerous.
"I shouldn't be talking to you," I said.
"But you are."
God. She's fearless.
Or stupid.
Or just… in love.
No. Not love.
It's too early.
Too fast.
Too impossible.
And yet—it feels like something is growing between us that neither of us can stop.
"I want to see you," she whispered.
And I knew I should say no.
I should shut this down.
But instead, I said—
"Come to me."
One Hour Later — His Penthouse
I was nervous.
Heart pounding. Breath shaky.
But the moment the door opened and I saw him standing there—in black sweatpants, messy hair, eyes heavy—I forgot everything.
"You look…" I stopped.
"Dead?" he smirked.
"No. Just real."
He moved aside. I stepped in. And the door shut behind me with a quiet click that sounded way too loud.
I wasn't supposed to be here.
But this felt like the only place I wanted to be.
We didn't talk much.
He poured me water. Not alcohol.
He sat across from me on the couch.
No music. No noise. Just breathing and silence and one huge question neither of us wanted to ask out loud:
What is this?
He moved closer.
Not much.
Just enough.
Our knees touched.
I looked into his eyes and saw something that shook me to my soul.
Pain.
Deep, raw, unhealed pain.
And I did the most dangerous thing I've ever done in my life.
I leaned in.
I kissed him.
Slow.
Soft.
He froze.
Then he kissed me back.
But it wasn't hungry.
It wasn't lust.
It was like he was trying to remember what love tasted like.
And when he pulled back, his eyes were wet.
"Don't fall for me, Lisa," he said, voice cracked.
"I already did," I whispered.