Almost Love (pt 4.)

Between What Was and What Might Be

Inayah’s POV

The moment I got home from school, I threw my bag onto the couch and slumped onto it with a sigh of relief. The day had been long, and my feet were tired from all the walking, but my mind was surprisingly restless. I didn’t want to admit why, but I knew exactly what or rather who was responsible.

I reached for my phone, scrolling aimlessly to distract myself. Social media was my usual escape after school, the perfect mindless companion to unwind. But then, as fate or perhaps algorithms would have it, I froze.

Right there, on my Facebook screen, was a friend's recommendation. Ayaan Abdullah.

“Oh, no,” I muttered to myself, feeling my cheeks warm despite no one being there to see. “I barely just got home, and I’m already on his page?”

It wasn’t my fault. Really. It was just his name. That name I’d heard earlier today lingered in my mind longer than it should have. His name was right there, staring at me in bold letters like a neon sign in the quiet corner of my feed. I barely even thought about it before I tapped his profile. Curiosity was an innocent thing, right? Nothing serious. Just…research. Except now I was on his page. Barely five minutes home, and I was already here. How did this happen? Not that it was my fault, it was just his name. Just…there.

His page opened, and my eyes darted around, taking in his page. His profile picture wasn’t even of him. It was some abstract design, the kind that made you wonder if he was the mysterious type or just indecisive about picking a photo. No selfies. No recent posts. Just a handful of random things he’d shared memes, a few quotes. But it wasn’t what I expected. Something about that made me smile, like he had layers I hadn’t thought about yet.

And then I noticed something. His mom’s profile was linked to his. Out of curiosity, and maybe just a tiny bit of boredom, I clicked. The first thing that popped up? A baby photo of Ayaan. I couldn’t stop the small laugh that bubbled out of me. He was adorable. Chubby cheeks, a bright smile, the kind of photo moms love to show off at family gatherings.

Scrolling through, I found more baby pictures, the kind that made me grin without realizing it. But then, as I looked closer, my eyes caught something. A picture of him from when he was a bit older. There was a faint scar on his arm, barely noticeable, but it was there. I paused, wondering what might’ve caused it. A story? An accident? My mind wandered for a moment before I shook it off. It wasn’t really my business.

I sighed, setting my phone aside. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered, pulling the blanket over me. It wasn’t like I was obsessing over him. Not at all. He was just…interesting. Yeah, that’s all it was.

As my eyes closed, I tried to push thoughts of him away. But somewhere, in the quiet space between being awake and asleep, I thought of the way he’d said my name. Soft. Steady. Like it meant something, even if it didn’t.

---

Ayaan’s POV

I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

It didn’t make sense. She was just Zayan’s friend, a girl I’d met in the hallway and exchanged a few words with. Nothing more. And yet, from the moment I said “Hey, Inayah,” it was like the thought of her had settled into the back of my mind and refused to leave.

I sat on my bed, trying to focus on my phone, but even scrolling felt pointless. My mind kept drifting back to her. The way she smiled. The way she tilted her head when she spoke. The way she said my name, like it was natural and easy.

Finally, I caved. “Zayan,” I called out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He was on his laptop, probably watching another one of those ridiculous videos he loved.

“Hmm?” he replied without looking up.

“What’s her full name?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

That got his attention. He glanced up, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Oh, really? Her?”

“Just tell me,” I said, rolling my eyes, though I could feel the heat creeping up my neck.

“Why? You interested?” he teased, his grin widening.

“Zayan.”

“Fine, fine. Inayah Awwal.”

I gave a curt nod and turned away, ignoring his laughter as I headed back to my room. It wasn’t a big deal. I just wanted to know.

Opening Facebook, I typed her name into the search bar. The first result that popped up was her profile. Her picture was simple, she sitting in the sunlight, her smile soft but full of something warm—something that made me pause for a moment before clicking.

I didn’t scroll much. Just a quick glance, I told myself. But as I looked at her photo, something shifted. She was beautiful, but that wasn’t the part that stuck with me. There was something about her, something unexplainable, like she was the kind of person you’d want to sit with on a quiet afternoon, just talking about everything and nothing at all.

I closed the app, tossing my phone onto the bed. “What’s wrong with me?” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

I wasn’t the type to overthink things. But for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that meeting her, and seeing her was more significant than I realized.

I stared at the ceiling for a while, my mind drifting back to her. And as I finally drifted off to sleep, one thought lingered:

Why was she on my mind, and why didn’t I want her to leave?

P.S: I decided to try double POV today! What do you think about it? Do you want more of Ayaan’s POV? Let me know what you think in the comments.