CHAPTER 17 - Distance
719 Words
Something changed after that.
Not all at once. Nothing dramatic enough for anyone else to point at.
Hana stopped dropping into the seat beside Danish during lectures. In labs, she arrived just late enough that everyone had already settled. Her midnight complaints about assignments disappeared from his notifications without explanation.
Danish noticed by the third day.
He stopped waiting outside classrooms.
Stopped asking if she had eaten.
Stopped looking over whenever her phone buzzed.
The silence between them should have made things easier.
Instead, it sharpened everything else.
“Your report is incomplete.”
Hana looked up from her laptop inside the discussion room.
“It’s not incomplete.”
“You forgot appendix section.”
“I was going to do it later.”
“You always do things later.”
Her fingers paused above the keyboard.
“And you always act like deadline is tomorrow.”
“Because unlike you, I prepare properly.”
Before Hana could answer, Mira pushed open the door carrying snacks in both hands.
“Oho.”
“What now?” Hana asked.
Mira looked between them once, then slowly sat down.
“You two are exhausting.”
“We’re discussing,” Danish said without looking up.
“This is not discussion,” Mira replied. “This is foreplay for murder.”
The keyboard tapping resumed immediately after.
Sharp. Fast.
A few minutes later, Hana’s phone vibrated.
Faiz:
Cafeteria after this? Everyone going.
She typed back instantly.
YES.
A smile slipped out before she could stop it.
Across the table, the tapping paused.
“What?”
Hana glanced up.
Danish was already looking at her.
“What what?”
“You look happier suddenly.”
“That sounds judgemental.”
“You were glaring at your laptop five seconds ago.”
Mira quietly opened a packet of chips and turned away.
Hana locked her phone.
“Faiz asked about cafeteria.”
“Oh.”
Danish leaned back and returned to his laptop.
The keys hit harder after that.
By the time Mira gathered her snacks and moved to the opposite side of the room, neither of them acknowledged it.
Later that evening, Hana sat with Faiz, Mira, and several engineering students near the cafeteria after Maghrib prayer.
The table was crowded with shared fries, drinks, unfinished complaints about assignments.
Easy conversation.
The kind that moved without effort.
“Eh Hana.”
One of the juniors pointed toward the court nearby.
“You joining badminton tomorrow?”
“Can’t. Lab until evening.”
“Engineering really stole your happiness.”
“That faculty stole my lifespan.”
Laughter spread around the table.
“Not wrong.”
Hana looked up immediately.
Danish stood nearby holding several printed reports while Sara walked beside him.
Sara smiled first. “Mind if we join?”
“Of course,” Mira answered before anyone else could.
Chairs shifted.
Danish sat across from Hana, placing the reports beside his tray with precise alignment before finally settling back.
Conversation resumed around them.
Campus events. Lecturer gossip. Project disasters.
Sara spoke easily with everyone, and Danish answered her more than usual. His replies came quicker around her, quieter smiles appearing between sentences.
Hana reached for her drink more often than necessary.
“You should come architecture night next week,” Sara told her.
“There’ll be food trucks and performances.”
“That already sounds better than engineering.”
“Everything sounds better than engineering,” Danish said.
A laugh escaped Hana before she could hide it.
Danish looked up at the sound.
Their eyes met briefly.
She lowered hers to the condensation on her cup.
Later, Faiz nudged a plate of fries toward her.
“You haven’t eaten anything.”
Before Hana answered—
“She skipped lunch.”
The words landed too quickly.
Silence flickered across the table.
Hana’s hand stopped near the fries.
Mira looked up slowly.
Danish reached for his drink.
“How do you know that?” Mira asked.
“She looked tired during lab.”
His tone stayed even, but he didn’t look at Hana while saying it.
No one pushed further.
Conversation restarted a moment later, thinner than before.
Across the table, Danish adjusted the edge of the paper stack beside him for the third time.
Hana watched him do it.
He never touched his fries.
- Writer
