Dancing at the gate of.your heart

Amara Romani doesn't like places where people gathered for no reason. The courtyard was full again—clusters of laughter, unfinished conversations, noise that blurred into something shapeless. It made her feel like she was standing inside a room where everyone knew the script except her. So she kept walking. Head down. Steps measured. Invisible by design. It worked. It always worked. Until— “Hey.” She didn’t stop. Not because she didn’t hear him. But because she had rules. Rule one: never respond to voices that assume access. “Hey—blue hoodie.” She slowed. That wasn’t part of the plan. She turned just enough to see him. Not fully. Just a glance. He was leaning against the low fence like he had nowhere else to be and no reason to move. No urgency. No hesitation. Too comfortable. “I’m not answering that,” she said. “You just did.” “I corrected you.” He smiled slightly, like he appreciated the distinction. “Fair.” She turned to leave. “Wait.” There it was again. That assumption. Amara faced him fully this time. “Do you always talk to people like you already know them?” “Only the ones that look like they’d pretend not to.” Her expression didn’t change. “You’re not interesting enough for that.” “Maybe,” he said easily. “But you still turned around.” That— Annoyed her more than it should have. “You’re observant,” she said. “Use it to notice when you’re being dismissed.” For a second, nothing moved. Then he nodded, like he was filing that away instead of reacting to it. “Alright,” he said. “Dismiss me properly then.” Amara frowned slightly. “What?” “Say it like you mean it.” She stared at him. There was no challenge in his tone. No ego. Just… curiosity. Like this was an experiment. She didn’t like being studied. “I don’t know you,” she said, voice flat. “I don’t want to know you. And whatever this is—” She gestured between them. “—it’s not happening.” A beat. Then— “Okay.” That was it. No argument. No persistence. Just… acceptance. Amara hesitated. That wasn’t how this usually went. “Okay?” she repeated. “Okay,” he said again, pushing off the fence. “You’re very clear.” He walked past her. Just like that. No lingering glance. No last word. Gone. Amara stood there longer than she should have. Annoyed. Not at him. At the way it ended. Too clean. Too easy. “Who was that?” She didn’t notice Lina walking up beside her. “No one,” Amara replied quickly. Lina looked over her shoulder. “That didn’t look like ‘no one.’” “It was nothing.” “Mm,” Lina hummed, unconvinced. “Because that ‘nothing’ just walked through three different groups like he owns the place.” Amara didn’t turn. Didn’t look. Didn’t care. “People like that always think they do.” But later— When she caught sight of him again across the courtyard— He wasn’t looking at her. Not even once. And for reasons she couldn’t explain— That irritated her more.