Episode: 8

I took a busy and rushy bus to reach home. I found a couple sitting side by side and were moving very closely. It brought a smile on my face. All of sudden, my mind started to think about love. Is it happening to me? I don't know. Some strange feeling was surrounded me. And my whole body was started to respond to it. About my dressing, my physique, my total appearance. I reached home with all of those thoughts. It was already dark when I reached home. I started walking to home for two minutes from bus stop.

The night air was thick with an unusual stillness as I made my way back to my room, my thoughts spiraling around Robert's behavior on the court and in that empty classroom. His kiss—so unexpected, so daring—lingered on my lips like a question left unanswered. Was it bold? Absolutely. Out of line? Maybe. But it was also something else: exhilarating.

I tossed my bag near the bed and collapsed onto the mattress, burying my face in my hands. My heart raced, an unwelcome yet persistent reminder of his closeness, his smirk, and the undeniable pull of his gaze.

Why does he always do this to me?

I let out a sharp breath, trying to shake off the heaviness of my thoughts. Just as I reached for my phone, a soft ping startled me. The screen lit up with a message from him.

Robert: "Hey, Amy. Quick question. What's your bra size?"

I was actually changing my clothes but such a message made me clueless about how to react.

My heart dropped. I stared at the message, feeling a mix of indignation, shock, and—much to my surprise—a hint of amusement. Of course he'd say something like this.

I typed out a sharp response, only to erase it. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn't bring myself to reply. Seconds turned into what felt like hours. Another ping.

Robert: "Too shy to answer? That's okay. Let me guess—32?"

My breath caught. How did he know? My fingers itched to respond, but instead, I bit my lip, deciding that silence was my best option.

Another message came through almost instantly.

Robert: "If you don't reply, I'll take it as a yes. Deal?"

My heart raced as I tossed my phone onto the bed, torn between laughter, frustration, and tears. He was infuriating. Just as I started to convince myself that his antics were just playful teasing, the phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a message. It was a call.

The name "Robert" lit up the screen, taunting me.

I hesitated before answering, my voice shaky. "What do you want, Robert?"

His tone dripped with smug satisfaction. "Thanks for the confirmation."

"What?" I stammered, though my voice betrayed me, wavering and unsure.

You didn't deny it," he teased, his laughter soft yet infuriating. "That's practically a yes in my book."

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I tightened my grip on the phone. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're adorable when you're flustered," he shot back smoothly.

I was at a loss for words. Every retort I could think of felt insufficient, and his confidence left me both annoyed and strangely thrilled.

"Goodnight, Amy," he finally said, his voice softening into a nearly affectionate tone.

I didn't reply, instead hanging up and tossing the phone aside as if it were burning. I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

His words replayed in my mind, making my heart race. It was maddening how easily he got under my skin, yet there was something about him that drew me in, like a moth to a flame.

That night, I struggled to fall asleep. Instead, I found myself drifting back to memories of my first day at college, the day Robert and I first crossed paths.

It had been a whirlwind of chaos—new faces, unfamiliar surroundings, and the nervous excitement of starting a new chapter in my life. I'd been sitting under a tree, sketching absentmindedly in my notebook, when a shadow fell over me.

"Nice drawing," a voice said, smooth and confident.

I looked up to see Robert standing there, his trademark smirk already in place. He had this way of making you feel like he knew something you didn't, like he was always one step ahead.

"Thanks," I replied curtly, unsure how to handle someone so self-assured.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, not waiting for a response before plopping down beside me.

That day, I found him annoying. Persistent. But there was something else—an undeniable charm that I couldn't quite shake. Now, months later, I realized that first meeting had marked the beginning of something I didn't fully grasp yet.

As sleep finally took me, his voice echoed in my mind, soft and teasing: "Thanks for the confirmation."

Robert's POV:

Amy. She was unlike anyone I had ever encountered, and I couldn't quite pinpoint why.

Initially, she was just another face in the crowd—a new student with a reserved demeanor and a sharp wit. But as I got to know her better, I found myself increasingly captivated. She possessed a quiet confidence and a stubborn resilience that both intrigued and frustrated me.

Watching her on the basketball court tonight was eye-opening. She moved with such grace and precision, completely in her element. I had always thought of her as more of an academic type, the girl who preferred libraries to sports fields. Seeing her so vibrant and alive had completely thrown me off balance.

Then there was her response to my teasing earlier. I hadn't intended to push her buttons, but the way she hesitated, the slight tremor in her voice—it was captivating. She was so guarded, yet so expressive when she let her defenses down.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at my phone.

What is it about her?

I wasn't sure if it was her stubbornness or her unexpected vulnerability that drew me in, but I knew one thing: I wanted to learn more. I wanted to unravel the enigma of Amy, to understand the spark that connected us.

Amy's POV:

The next morning, I woke up with an odd sense of anticipation. The events of the previous night felt dreamlike, yet the lingering warmth on my cheeks reminded me they were all too real.

As I got ready for the day, I couldn't help but wonder what Robert had planned next. With him, every moment felt unpredictable, like walking a tightrope without a safety net.

When I arrived on campus, I spotted him right away. He was leaning against a lamppost, arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Morning, Amy," he called out, his tone annoyingly cheerful.

I rolled my eyes, determined not to let him get to me. "Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me?"

"Stalking is such a strong word," he said with a mock pout. "I prefer 'coincidental encounters.'"

I shook my head, hiding the smile tugging at my lips. No matter how much he annoyed me, there was something about his presence that made the world feel a little less daunting.