On Monday morning, Aisha and I gathered our things and headed to the airport, excitement bubbling under the surface. The cool morning air hit us as we walked through the terminal, the rush of travelers all around us. We checked in, grabbed a quick coffee, and before I knew it, we were boarding the plane. The flight was just over an hour, but in that time, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building inside me.

As the plane touched down in Amsterdam, the city skyline stretched out before us, a blend of modern buildings and charming canals weaving through the heart of the city.

"Here we are," Aisha said, her voice full of excitement, as we disembarked and stepped onto the jet bridge.

I took a deep breath, the crisp Dutch air mixing with the smell of fresh pastries from a nearby bakery. The city was alive with energy, vibrant and bustling, yet peaceful at the same time. We took a taxi to our accommodation, passing by rows of tall, narrow houses with their iconic gabled roofs and bicycles everywhere, just like in the pictures.

We checked in and settled into our room, the afternoon stretching out before us with endless possibilities. As I unpacked, I tried to shake off the weight of recent thoughts. Amsterdam was supposed to be about new beginnings, research, and focus—but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more waiting for me, even here.

After a quick rest, Aisha and I decided to explore the city. We wandered through cobblestone streets, meandering along the canals, taking in the atmosphere of the place. It was a beautiful contrast to the hectic days of university life.

Though I was miles away from London, from Zavian, there was a part of me that wondered what he was up to, how his weekend had been. I quickly brushed it off, trying to remind myself that I was here for a reason. Still, my phone buzzed in my pocket—Zavian's name flashed across the screen.

I hesitated for a second before opening the message.

Zavian: Enjoying your trip, Mashal-e-Mehtaab?

My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, unsure whether to reply or not. But in the end, I typed back, keeping it simple.

Me: Trying to. Busy schedule though. You?

I quickly shoved my phone back in my pocket, determined to focus on the city around me. But something about his messages had a way of lingering, pulling me back into a world I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with again.

We stopped at a quaint coffee shop, the smell of freshly brewed espresso and warm pastries filling the air. We grabbed our drinks and lingered by the window, snapping photos of the picturesque street outside. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a golden glow on the buildings and canals. We smiled at the camera, capturing memories in the midst of the lively scene around us.

I didn't check my phone, despite the constant buzzing from the group chat and one particular name that kept popping up. Instead, I tucked it away, focusing on the moment. Aisha and I rented bikes, and we cycled through the winding streets of Amsterdam, the sound of our tires crunching against the cobblestones. The city seemed to breathe with us, every turn offering something new—charming alleyways, flower-filled windows, and the soft ripple of the canals as we passed.

There was a quiet beauty to it, a peacefulness that made everything else feel far away. The wind in my hair, the laughter between us, and the soft hum of the city created a perfect harmony. Amsterdam was everything I had imagined and more—timeless, vibrant, and full of life.

The worries of the past few days faded with each pedal, and for once, I let myself just be in the moment, not thinking about anything except the beauty of this city and the freedom of the open road.

_

I slumped on my bed, my body still buzzing from the most amazing dinner I'd had in ages. The taste of the rich pasta, the warm, comforting atmosphere of the restaurant—it was all perfect. I stared up at the ceiling, a small smile tugging at my lips, replaying the evening in my head. The city was still so fresh in my mind, the moments of pure joy in Amsterdam lingering like a sweet aftertaste.

But just as I was about to drift off into a peaceful thought, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. A single, familiar name. I sighed, rolling over to grab it.

Zavian: You didn't think you could escape without a message from me, did you? Amsterdam must be really distracting to not text me for hours.

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me. The man was nothing if not persistent, and smug, always somehow managing to keep himself on my mind. His cocky tone was unmistakable, even through a text.

Me: I'm busy enjoying my actual life, if you don't mind. It's not my fault you're so easy to forget.

A moment later, his reply came through, almost immediately.

Zavian: That's cute, Mashal. But just so you know, I'm the kind of distraction you'll never want to forget.

I rolled my eyes, but that familiar, fluttering feeling settled in my chest, despite my attempts to ignore it. He always knew how to stir something inside me, in the most infuriating yet intoxicating way.

Me: Whatever, Zavian. I'm getting sleep. I'll forget about you tomorrow.

Zavian: Sure you will. Sleep tight, Mashal. See you soon.

I couldn't even help the little smile that pulled at my lips as I set my phone down. Damn it, Zavian. Just when I thought I had a handle on him, he'd find a way to slip through the cracks.

_

The next two weeks slipped by in a blur of conferences, smiles, endless research, and exhaustion. Amsterdam was beautiful, but the schedule was relentless. Aisha and I barely had time for a proper dinner date, let alone any time to just breathe. Between the seminars and late-night work sessions, I often found myself collapsing into bed with only the energy to send a quick photo to my family, updating them on my whereabouts.

Messages from home were fewer now. Everyone was busy with their own lives, but at least the photos kept the connection alive.

But then there was him. No texts. No check-ins. No smug messages from Zavian.

I couldn't decide if I was relieved or frustrated.

Still, the thought of him lingered in the back of my mind like a shadow, haunting my every move.

The shadow bastard had figured out a way to occupy space in my head without even trying.

_

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of back-to-back conferences and research sessions, Aisha and I finally had a Sunday free to ourselves. We were beyond ready to explore, to step away from the grind and simply enjoy what Amsterdam had to offer.

Our first stop? A quaint little theater we had read about online, tucked away in a corner of the city. The building was old, its worn stone exterior holding the charm of a bygone era, while the vibrant posters on display promised something modern and exciting.

We stood at the entrance, taking in the surroundings, letting the lively buzz of the city swirl around us as we decided to head inside. The dim light inside only added to the atmosphere, making it feel like we were stepping into a secret world of art and performance.

"Can you believe we're actually here?" Aisha grinned, her excitement infectious as we made our way to the ticket booth.

I couldn't help but smile back. "We finally have some time to ourselves. Let's make the most of it."

We found our seats in the small, dimly lit theater, the air thick with the scent of buttered popcorn. We settled in, the soft rustle of the popcorn bag the only sound in the quiet theater. The old romance movie flickered to life on the screen, its black-and-white charm pulling us into a simpler, slower world.

But damn. It was good.

Despite its aged film quality, the movie somehow captured every emotion, every glance, every touch in a way that made us forget about the world outside. The sweet, tender romance of two characters falling for each other felt like a warm embrace, and I could feel my heart soften with every word spoken.

Aisha was completely absorbed in it, her eyes glued to the screen as she leaned forward, clutching her popcorn. "This is exactly what I needed," she whispered, as if speaking louder would ruin the magic of it all.

I nodded, equally entranced, not even aware of how my fingers had slipped into the popcorn bag, mindlessly reaching for more as the story unfolded. The chemistry between the characters was undeniable, and it felt almost...real. I let myself get lost in it, caught in the simplicity of love told through decades-old film, and for the first time in weeks, I let my mind wander from everything else—Zavian, the pressures of university, the constant hustle of life.

When the credits rolled, neither of us moved for a while. The room was still, with only the faint sound of the theater's old air conditioning humming in the background. Aisha sighed contentedly, stretching her arms out in front of her.

"That was amazing," she said, her voice light and full of wonder.

I smiled, feeling a rare peace. "Yeah, it was. Let's do this more often."

As we headed back out into the lively streets of Amsterdam, the sun beginning to set and the sky painted with soft hues of orange and pink, I realized something. Today had been perfect, just like the movie. No chaos, no distractions. Just us, and the city, and a few simple moments.

Maybe, just maybe, that was all I really needed.

_

We had dinner in the cutest little halal restaurant, the aroma of freshly cooked dishes filling the air as we made our selections. We ordered the best dishes on the menu, from aromatic biryanis to sizzling kebabs, and even shared a sweet, creamy dessert that left us both satisfied in ways we didn't know we needed.

Between bites, Aisha and I chatted about everything from university to silly gossip, her laughter blending with the soft background music. It felt like we were finally getting a moment to ourselves, a much-needed break from the chaos of the past few weeks. The food was rich and flavorful, and we were in no rush, savoring every bite as we relaxed in the warmth of the restaurant.

I was just about to take another sip of my drink when my phone beeped. My heart skipped. I glanced at the screen, half-expecting a message from someone back home. But no. It was from him. Zavian.

Zavian: Missed me?

I stared at the message, irritation simmering in my chest. Three weeks. Three long weeks of silence from his end, and now he decides to pop back in with this smug nonsense? I had half a mind to ignore it completely, to just leave him in the past where he belonged. But the words... Missed me? lingered in my mind like a challenge.

My foot, I thought with a silent scoff.

I opened the message, my fingers moving almost on their own. I typed out a short response without really thinking, the frustration clear in my words.

Me: No.

I hit send before I could second-guess myself, the word hanging between us like a small defiance. No. Simple, direct, and to the point. It was enough, or at least I wanted it to be.

I set my phone down with a huff, pushing the thought of Zavian aside, determined to enjoy the evening. Aisha was still talking, oblivious to the slight tension that had crept into the air. But her voice was a warm distraction, and I focused on her words instead, letting the chaos of the past few weeks blur into the background.

But of course, Zavian wasn't the kind of person to leave things at a "no." Less than a minute passed before my phone buzzed again. My stomach tightened, a flicker of annoyance flashing through me.

I grabbed my phone, barely glancing at Aisha, who was now busy with her dessert. The screen lit up with a new message from him.

Zavian: Liar.

My breath caught in my throat. The word wasn't just a response—it was a challenge. His cocky attitude, his confidence, all rolled into that single word. I felt my pulse quicken, the small part of me that couldn't stand him flickering with anger.

Me: Why would I even miss you?

Zavian: Because you do.

My heart skipped a beat at his response. I couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at my lips, even though I tried to suppress it. This guy... always so sure of himself.

I rolled my eyes and quickly typed back, determined to keep up the act.

Me: You're delusional.

I hit send, but a part of me wondered if he was right. It was ridiculous. I didn't miss him. Did I?

My phone buzzed again before I could think any more on it.

Zavian: Keep telling yourself that.

A little laugh escaped my lips. This guy was infuriatingly persistent. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, debating whether to keep this back-and-forth going or just shut it down.

But I couldn't help it. Something about his cocky messages had a way of making my day a little more interesting. Just a little.

Me: Whatever you say, Zavian.

I put the phone down, trying to push aside the tiny warmth spreading in my chest. There was no way I was going to let him get under my skin... right?

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink, trying to shake off the ridiculous tension Zavian's messages had stirred. Smug as ever.

Then, I heard it—that drawl. The one I recognized all too well. "You look good when you laugh."

I choked on my drink. Like, literally. The liquid almost went down the wrong way, and Aisha shot me a startled look as I spluttered.

I turned my head so fast I was sure I'd give myself whiplash, but there he was—standing right in front of me, leaning casually against a chair with that damn smirk of his plastered on his face.

"Seriously?!" I managed to croak out, my heart already racing. What was he doing here?

He took a step closer, his smirk only widening as he watched me try to recover from the embarrassment. I wiped my mouth, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"What's the matter, Mashal-e-Mehtaab? Can't handle a compliment?" he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

Aisha took a slow sip of her drink, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding between us. Zavian casually slipped into the seat next to me, his gaze never leaving mine. My frown deepened. "What are you doing here? Like, here?" I gestured around, as if the whole world needed to know how bizarre this situation was. "You're supposed to be in London, as far as I know. I'm starting to think you really are stalking me."

Zavian's smirk didn't budge. He leaned back, stretching his legs out, acting as if he owned the place. "Stalking you?" he repeated, his voice thick with amusement. "Maybe I'm just getting used to your... company." He let the words hang in the air, making my heart skip a beat.

I opened my mouth to say something sarcastic, but all I could manage was a glare. This was so ridiculous, and yet, here I was—completely caught in his orbit.

I managed a huff, crossing my arms, "Unbelievable. I believe in coincidences... but this is too coincidental. How. Did. You. Know. I. Was. Here?" I narrowed my eyes, giving him a look that screamed seriously, "I'm not buying into your cryptic answers."