CHAPTER -5 : The Line Between Teeth

The library smelled of old paper and rain.

Ayan was where he always was—back corner, away from chatter, hunched over an open text. His pencil moved with cold precision, every line neat, every motion controlled.

Then came that voice.

> "You really like pretending I don't exist, huh?"

He didn't look up.

> "I don't pretend. I just don't care."

Kairo dropped his bag onto the table anyway, the thump echoing too loud in the quiet room. He slid into the chair opposite, grin carved into his face like it had never learned defeat.

> "You know what they say about caring too little? It's just fear in disguise."

Ayan's hand stilled mid-sentence.

Slowly, he looked up—eyes like glass, sharp enough to cut.

> "You really want to test that theory?"

Kairo leaned forward, elbows on the table, his smile curling like smoke.

> "Yeah. Kind of."

That was the moment the air changed.

A thread pulled tight, humming between them.

Kairo didn't notice. Not fully. He just kept talking, soft and coaxing, like he was disarming a bomb with bare hands.

> "You keep acting like I'm this… inconvenience. But I think you like having me around."

Ayan laughed.

Not warm. Not amused.

It was the kind of sound that felt like a blade running along your spine.

> "You think a lot of things. Doesn't make them true."

Kairo's grin faltered. Just a fraction.

And that was when Ayan leaned forward, closing the gap an inch—cold, steady, dangerous.

> "Here's the truth, Ren. You're not charming. You're not clever. You're just loud. And one day, being loud will get you hurt."

For a second, Kairo forgot how to breathe.

Because under the harsh fluorescent light, Ayan didn't just look cold. He looked… lethal. Beautiful in the way sharp glass was beautiful—glittering, bloodthirsty.

Kairo sat back slowly, hands raised in mock surrender.

> "Wow. Note to self: never underestimate the quiet ones."

Ayan's gaze didn't soften.

> "You should stop underestimating how much I want you gone."

And just like that, he returned to his notes, like Kairo was nothing but a smudge on the page.

But Kairo? He sat there, heart pounding in his throat.

And for the first time, he realized—

this wasn't a game.

This was a war.

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