~DON'T DISAPPEAR AGAIN~
At midnight, I woke up thirsty. After sipping some water, my gaze instinctively drifted to his bed. Empty. The blanket was tossed aside, the sheets wrinkled—he hadn't just shifted in sleep, he had left.
My chest tightened. *Where could he be at this hour?* My mind whispered possibilities I didn't want to hear. Hugging myself, I glanced around the shadows of the dorm, every corner looking darker than usual. My heart pounded as I whispered, "What if someone's hiding under the bed? What if they pull me in?"
Forcing myself to be brave, I tiptoed toward his bed, searching for his phone. Nothing. That made me even more restless. "Of course… maybe he went to meet *her*." I muttered, rolling my eyes as if I didn't care. But the ache in my chest told me otherwise.
I threw myself back onto my bed, pulling the blanket over my face. Still, sleep refused to come. With a frustrated groan, I sat up, tugged at my hair, and shouted into the silence, "Why do I even care?!"
The silence answered with its creepiness. Fed up, I switched on the lights. My feet carried me nervously across the room as I checked every corner, my fear of darkness making the shadows feel alive. Finally, I opened the main dorm door, peeking into the corridor.
It was pitch black—like the set of a horror film. The air was cold, the silence too thick. Barefoot, my hair tangled like some horror-movie witch, I stepped into the corridor. My eyes darted left and right. The iron railing along the stairs (balustrade) caught my hand as I leaned forward, trying to peek down below. My toes strained, my body wobbled—I was about to fall.
Suddenly, a hand yanked me back by my collar.
I gasped and spun around. It was him. "Where were you?!" I yelled, smacking his shoulder. "Do you know how scared I was?!"
He raised a brow, calm as ever. "Scared because I disappeared… or scared of your imaginary ghosts?"
His gaze then dropped to my feet. With a sharp frown, he bent down, slipped his slippers onto me, and muttered, "Do you enjoy looking like a homeless person? What if you stepped on something dangerous?"
I blinked at him, half annoyed, half flustered. "Oh… so now it's about looks?"
He shook his head, already slipping his own feet onto the cold floor. "Not looks. Safety."
I trailed after him, hugging the slippers closer. "Then tell me… where *were* you?"
"Meeting someone," he replied casually.
My chest sank. "Her?" I demanded.
He smirked. "No. *Him.* And it's… related to you." His grin turned devilish, sparking a chill down my spine.
My eyes widened. "Wait—are you planning to kidnap me?"
He burst into laughter, tapping my head lightly. "Idiot."
Perfect, I'll polish it up into a smooth, professional but still dramatic flow — keeping the teasing, cuteness, and little fiery moments exactly as you want them:
---
After that little scene in the corridor, we finally went back to sleep. Lying on my bed, I turned my face toward him and muttered softly, "Don't disappear again…" Then my eyes shut before I could hear his reply.
The next morning, sunlight spilled into the dorm. I woke up lazily, stretching—but his bed was empty once more.
"Unbelievable!" I hissed, throwing the blanket away.
As soon as I stepped out of the room, the door creaked open, and there he was—sneaking back inside. I froze, then screamed, "YOU!"
He jumped, startled, his eyes wide. Before he could even defend himself, I rushed forward and pushed him against the door. He leaned back on it for support, caught between my glare and my fury.
I stood on my toes, bringing my face dangerously close—so close that our noses almost brushed. His ears turned red instantly, his breath catching. With a sharp look, I raised a finger right in front of his face—a silent death warning.
Then I turned away, walking back toward the bedroom with all the attitude I could muster. I locked myself in the bathroom, leaving him frozen against the door, blushing like a tomato. I could almost feel his embarrassed grin through the walls. He bit his lower lip and smiled to himself, unable to hide it.
When I came out, we both got dressed. Somehow, our outfits matched perfectly—he wore a crisp white shirt with a jacket layered over it, paired with white trousers. I wore a blue-and-white jumpsuit. For some reason, we looked like we'd coordinated it.
After breakfast, the street crew decided to meet directly at the airport. There, Raffy carried my suitcase without a word, his hand gripping the handle like it belonged to him.
I spotted Zara and Maheen and ran straight toward them. Zara raised her eyebrows with a teasing smile.
"Oh, Raffy—already carrying his girl's luggage," she said, smirking.
I immediately smacked her arm. "Already starting with nonsense?"
Maheen giggled, pointing at us. "Look—they're even wearing matching outfits!"
Ayan jumped in, laughing. "Yeah! They could've at least told us, we'd have matched too."
Zain finished with a grin. "But no, they had to keep it a secret."
I rolled my eyes at all of them, but inside, I felt my cheeks burning.
Finally, we boarded the plane. Maheen sat beside me, and Raffy ended up in the seat right in front of me. I kept stealing glances at him, only to catch him doing the exact same thing. Our eyes would meet for a second, and then we'd both look away—pretending like nothing happened.