CHAPTER -10: The Quiet Storm

The lecture hall emptied in waves.

Chairs scraped, voices blurred into white noise, and soon only two shadows remained.

Ayan stacked his notes neatly, methodical as always.

He didn't need to look up to know the other shadow hadn't moved.

Kairo sat three rows back, elbow on the desk, chin resting in his hand.

Not smiling.

Not speaking.

Just watching.

The weight of it pressed on Ayan's spine until he snapped his folder shut harder than necessary.

> "If you have something to say, say it."

His tone was pure frost.

Kairo didn't move for a moment. Then he rose, slow, every step echoing like a clock counting down.

He stopped one row away—close enough for Ayan to feel heat without contact.

> "You don't let anyone in," Kairo said quietly.

No tease. No grin. Just calm truth that burned worse than mockery.

Ayan's jaw flexed.

> "Congratulations. You've cracked the obvious."

But Kairo didn't back off. His voice stayed low, steady.

> "You think walls keep you safe. But I've seen enough to know they're not solid."

A muscle ticked in Ayan's temple.

> "What you think you've seen is a mistake."

Kairo tilted his head slightly, eyes sharp now—not warm, not playful.

> "Then why do you look like you want to run every time I get close?"

Ayan froze.

Just for a breath.

Then he turned, stepping past him, voice like a blade:

> "Keep digging, Ren. See where it gets you."

The door slammed.

Kairo stood alone in the hollow silence, chest tight, pulse steady—like a predator who'd scented blood for the first time.

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