EPISODE 5: The Quiet Storm
848 Words
The morning air was thick with mist, the kind that made the campus look like it was wrapped in a dream. Rasimie walked quickly toward the lecture hall, her heart oddly restless. She hadn’t seen Andrew all weekend, and though she’d tried not to admit it, it had left a quiet ache somewhere deep inside her.
Her friends talked about assignments and gossip, but her thoughts wandered elsewhere — to his voice, his eyes, the way he said her name like it was something he didn’t want to forget.
When she finally reached the class, she froze. Andrew was already there.
He was sitting by the window, earphones in, the morning light falling across his face. He looked lost in thought, but peaceful. She hesitated, wondering if she should walk up to him, but before she could decide, he turned — and their eyes met.
A slow, warm smile tugged at his lips.
“Hey,” he said, pulling out his earphones.
Her stomach fluttered. “Hey,” she replied softly.
“Been quiet lately,” he teased gently. “I thought you disappeared.”
She laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just genetics. Too many genes, not enough sleep.”
He chuckled. “Sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” she said, smiling. “You might wake up one day and realize your DNA is tired of you.”
He shook his head, smiling — and just like that, her morning felt right again.
---
Later that day, they ended up sitting together outside the science lab, under the shade of a wide, old tree. Rasimie had her notes spread out in front of her, pretending to study, but her concentration was long gone. Every time Andrew leaned closer to point at something in her notes, her brain just... fizzled.
“Here,” he said, tapping her notebook, “you’ve mixed up adenine and guanine again.”
She blinked. “I did?”
“Yeah.” He leaned closer, the warmth of his arm brushing hers. “See? Adenine pairs with thymine, not guanine.”
“Oh,” she said faintly, her pulse thudding. “Right. A and T. G and C.”
He smiled, eyes glinting. “You’d think a genetics student would know that.”
“I do!” she protested weakly. “My brain just stopped working.”
“Because of DNA?”
“Because…” She hesitated, cheeks burning. “Never mind.”
He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Because what?”
“Because you’re distracting,” she blurted before her brain could stop her.
The silence that followed was thick enough to swallow her whole.
Andrew looked at her for a long moment — not laughing, not teasing, just looking. The air between them shifted, slow and heavy, until she couldn’t breathe. Then, softly, he said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She looked away, flustered. “You should.”
For a while, neither of them spoke. A light breeze moved through the trees, carrying the faint scent of rain. She felt calm and restless at once — her heart racing even in the quiet.
“Rasimie,” he said suddenly, voice lower than usual.
She turned. “Yeah?”
“Why do you always look like you’re trying not to feel something?”
The question hit her like a heartbeat.
She swallowed, searching for words. “Because when I do, it usually hurts.”
He nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful. “Yeah. I get that.”
They didn’t say anything else for a while. The world around them softened — the laughter from distant students, the rustle of the wind, the soft hum of insects in the grass. Everything felt still.
Then Andrew said quietly, “You know, sometimes feeling something — even if it hurts — is better than feeling nothing at all.”
She met his gaze, and something in her chest ached in the best possible way. “You talk like you’ve felt a lot.”
He smiled faintly, looking away. “Maybe too much.”
---
By the time the sun began to set, their notes were forgotten. They sat in silence, the golden light painting everything soft and warm. She wanted to say something — anything — to make the moment last, but words felt too small.
So she just watched him. The way his lashes caught the light, the tiny crease that appeared when he thought too hard, the quiet steadiness that made her feel safe even when he didn’t say a word.
And in that stillness, Rasimie realized something terrifying and wonderful at once.
She was falling for him. Not just the idea of him — but him. The real, imperfect, beautiful person sitting right beside her.
When he finally stood, gathering his things, he said softly, “See you tomorrow, Rasimie.”
She nodded, heart trembling. “Tomorrow.”
But when he walked away, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside her had changed forever — like a quiet storm was building, one heartbeat at a time.
- Writer
