Rain had stopped.
Andaleeb stood frozen, her hands still tingling from the sudden burst of power. Her breaths were ragged, chest rising and falling with panic. The man who had tried to grab her was unconscious, his body crumpled against the wet pavement, and the second one had long disappeared into the shadows. The street smelled of rain and fear. But none of that mattered now.
Because Zayan Khan had seen it.
He stood a few feet away, soaked from the downpour, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. His black eyes weren't cold this time—they were filled with something else. Confusion. Awe. And the faintest touch of fear.
A flicker of blue light still shimmered faintly across his eyes, a reflection of the power that had just surged from her fingertips.
"Andaleeb…" he whispered, voice barely audible above the soft drip of water from the rooftops. "What did you just do?"
Her heart pounded.
She couldn't think. Couldn't lie. Not this time.
He took a step closer, slow, cautious. "Tell me. What are you?"
Her breath hitched. There was only one option.
Before he could take another step, she moved—swift as light. Her fingers pressed gently against his temples, trembling.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're not supposed to know."
A soft pulse of glowing blue light flared beneath her fingers.
Zayan's eyes widened for a heartbeat… then rolled back.
He collapsed into her arms.
---
Morning Fog
Zayan woke with a gasp, bolting upright in bed. His penthouse was dim, the early morning fog casting long shadows across the glass walls. The rain from last night had left the windows misty, blurring the city outside.
His head throbbed.
He frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. The last thing he remembered was… the café? Rain? A vague silhouette of someone standing beneath a streetlamp.
And a girl.
Andaleeb?
His eyes drifted to the nightstand, where a folded piece of paper sat. The handwriting was unmistakably hers—loopy, slightly chaotic, like she wrote in a hurry while sipping tea.
> "You fainted outside the café. I dragged you to your car.
Don't ask questions. You're welcome. – A.S."
Zayan stared at the note for a long moment.
He didn't faint. Zayan Khan didn't faint.
Yet here he was.
The strange part wasn't the fainting. It was the way his body felt—like there was a warmth pulsing beneath his skin, something humming faintly in his bones. Something that didn't belong.
He reached up, brushing his fingers over his temples. They felt… hot. Not feverish. Just… strange.
And for reasons he couldn't explain, it made his chest ache.
---
At the Office
Andaleeb walked into the office lobby with her usual chaotic charm, humming an off-key tune and cradling a large, floral mug of tea like it was sacred. Her scarf was slightly crooked. Her bag was falling open. She looked like she'd wrestled with her own wardrobe and lost.
Zayan narrowed his eyes as he watched her from his office window.
She looked normal. Too normal.
He stepped out as she plopped into her chair outside his office. "You dragged me into my own car?"
She looked up, feigning surprise. "Oh wow. You're alive."
"I don't faint," he said flatly.
"Tell that to gravity," she replied with a smirk, sipping her tea.
"I'm serious."
"So am I. You keeled over like an 18th-century lady in a corset."
He scowled, but she just gave him a toothy grin. That grin—that ridiculous, stubborn, endearing grin—threw him off more than the headache.
Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. Something about her.
But no matter how hard he tried, the memory just wouldn't come. It was like a fog had rolled over that part of his brain, leaving only pieces behind.
And those pieces? They all led back to Andaleeb Shah.
---
Unexpected Visitor
Around noon, Aryan peeked into Zayan's office. "Uh… sir, Haroon's here. He's asking about the investor files."
Zayan nodded, closing his laptop. "Send him in."
Moments later, Haroon walked in, drenched in his usual confidence and a crisp navy blazer. "You're still wearing black every day, huh?"
Zayan raised a brow. "You still pretending to be fashionable?"
They shook hands, firm and familiar—brothers more than friends.
Outside, Andaleeb watched them through the glass. Oh right. They knew each other. She had forgotten how oddly comfortable they were back at the café.
Inside, the mood between them was light, but tension hummed just beneath the surface.
"You missed the last investor call," Haroon said, pulling out a chair without asking.
"I had... things to do," Zayan muttered.
Haroon smirked. "Like fainting on the street?"
Zayan glared. "You've been talking to her?"
Haroon shrugged. "She was laughing about it earlier. Said you collapsed like a Shakespearean heroine."
"I did not collapse."
"You definitely didn't look like your usual brooding vampire self, if that's any consolation."
Zayan folded his arms, eyes narrowing. "Why were you talking to her? You know her?"
Haroon blinked. "She's my neighbor."
That shouldn't have annoyed him. But it did. Deeply.
"She's not just any colleague," Zayan said quietly. "She's... chaos."
Haroon chuckled. "That's what makes her great. She's sharp, funny, unpredictable. There's something about her, man. She's... real. Not like the pretentious robots we usually deal with."
Zayan said nothing. His jaw tightened.
Haroon leaned forward, smile fading. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine."
But the lie felt heavy in his mouth.
---
Later That Evening – Café Conversations
The café was almost empty, golden lights casting warm shadows across the wooden counters.
Eman wiped down the tables while Andaleeb stirred sugar into her tea like it was a ritual. Her fingers trembled just slightly.
"You erased his memory, didn't you?" Eman asked softly.
Andaleeb's spoon paused mid-stir.
"I had to," she whispered. "He saw everything."
"Are you sure he forgot?"
"I think so. He looked confused. He didn't push."
Eman leaned closer. "You know how dangerous this is. Erasing a human memory isn't clean. It leaves... gaps. It's not like a reset button."
"I know. But what was I supposed to do? Let him find out the truth?"
Eman's face softened. "He looked at you like he cared."
"That's the problem."
There was a silence between them. Heavy. Unspoken.
"You like him," Eman said finally.
Andaleeb didn't respond.
She didn't need to.
---
Zayan's Apartment – Sleepless
That night, Zayan couldn't sleep.
He walked to the giant glass windows, staring at the glowing city below. He should've felt at peace here—high above everything, alone in silence. But tonight, the silence itched at him.
He returned to his drawer, pulled it open, and took out the doodle.
It was a silly drawing. A cartoonish version of his usual scowl with a heart above it.
She drew that.
He didn't know why, but it made his lips twitch.
His fingers hovered over it for a second longer than they should have.
His thoughts wandered.
Rain.
A streetlamp.
A pair of glowing eyes.
Andaleeb.
A name, a face, a feeling.
Something was missing.
Every time he looked at her… his heart jumped, like it remembered something his mind couldn't.
And that was the most terrifying part.