The veil of hearts

•Spark•

4

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Joshua leaned against the bar, nursing his drink as he listened to Mike's familiar banter. The week had been a whirlwind of lectures, office hours, and research, but Mike's question cut through the academic haze.

"Ever found that spark, Josh?" Mike asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Joshua's mind instantly flashed to the lecture hall earlier that week. The image of Aina, bathed in the soft afternoon light, flooded his senses.

He saw her again, struggling with her backpack zipper, her light blue cardigan contrasting beautifully with her black jeans and hijab. The memory was so vivid he could almost feel the sunlight warming his skin.

"I..." Joshua began, then paused, taking a sip of his drink to gather his thoughts. "I'm not sure, Mike."

But even as he spoke, he could see Aina's eyes in his mind - those enormous brown eyes, accentuated by a delicate line of kohl. He remembered how they had captivated him, drawing him in like twin pools of warmth and depth.

Joshua shifted uncomfortably, recalling the moment when Aina had bit her lower lip in concentration. He had noticed every detail - the gentle curve of her cheek, the slight furrow of her brow, the stray wisp of hair that had escaped her hijab. The memory of his urge to reach out and tuck that strand back into place made his fingers twitch involuntarily.

"Josh?" Mike's voice pulled him back to the present. "You okay there, buddy? You seemed pretty lost in thought."

Joshua shook his head, trying to clear the image of Aina from his mind. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, but his voice lacked conviction. "Just... thinking about work."

Mike raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but he didn't push further.

As the conversation moved on, Joshua found his thoughts drifting back to the lecture hall, to Aina's focused expression, to the way the light had seemed to illuminate her entire being. He took another sip of his drink, a mixture of confusion and something else - something he wasn't quite ready to name - swirling in his chest.

"A spark," he murmured to himself, so quietly that Mike didn't hear. "Maybe... maybe there is something there after all."

////

Few days before this

Joshua stood motionless at the podium, his gaze fixed on Aina as she wrestled with her backpack zipper. The world around him faded into a blur, leaving only her in sharp focus.

Her light blue cardigan draped elegantly over her petite frame, a soft contrast to the deep black of her jeans and hijab. The afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows caught the fabric of her cardigan, giving it an almost ethereal glow that seemed to illuminate her entire being.

But it was her eyes that truly captivated him. Those enormous brown eyes, further accentuated by a delicate line of kohl, were like twin pools of warmth and depth. The kohl brought out the richness of her iris color, making them appear even more striking against her light skin. Joshua found himself lost in those eyes, even from across the room.

As Aina bit her lower lip in concentration, Joshua's breath caught in his throat. He noticed the gentle curve of her cheek, the slight furrow of her brow as she focused on the stubborn zipper. A stray wisp of hair had escaped her hijab, curling softly against her temple. Joshua felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and tuck it back into place.

The black hijab framed her face perfectly, highlighting the delicate features that Joshua now realized he had never truly appreciated before. The contrast between the dark fabric and her luminous skin was mesmerizing, drawing attention to the graceful line of her jaw and the gentle slope of her neck.

Time seemed to stand still as Joshua drank in every detail. The way her slender fingers moved deftly over the zipper, the slight tilt of her head as she examined the problem, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath - all of it etched itself into his memory with startling clarity.

He was vaguely aware that he should look away, that his prolonged stare was bordering on inappropriate. But he couldn't bring himself to break his gaze. In that moment, Aina appeared to him as the most exquisite creature he had ever laid eyes on, a vision of beauty and grace that left him utterly spellbound.

When Aina finally looked up and addressed him, Joshua felt as if he were waking from a dream. Her voice, soft and melodious, brought him crashing back to reality. As she left the room, he remained rooted to the spot, his mind reeling from the intensity of what he had just experienced.

Long after Aina had gone, Joshua stood there, grappling with the realization that something fundamental had shifted within him. The image of her - the light blue cardigan, the striking black hijab, and those incredibly expressive, kohl-rimmed eyes - was seared into his memory, a vision he knew would haunt his thoughts for days to come.

Currently

Joshua's POV

As I closed the door to my apartment, Mike's question echoed in my mind. "Ever found that spark, Josh?" The words seemed to reverberate through the quiet space, mingling with the image of Aina that I couldn't seem to shake.

I dropped my keys on the counter and loosened my tie, making my way to the living room. As I sank into my armchair, my thoughts drifted back to that first day of class, barely a week ago but feeling somehow both recent and distant at once.

I remembered scanning the lecture hall, taking in the sea of eager faces. Some were openly admiring, others trying to hide their interest behind notebooks or laptops. It was a familiar scene, one I'd grown accustomed to over the years.

But then my eyes had landed on her.

Aina Yilmaz. Even then, before I knew her name, she had stood out. In the middle of the room, a petite figure in a light blue hijab, her focus entirely on the presentation slides. I recalled how her pen had moved across her notebook with swift, deliberate strokes, her concentration unwavering.

I leaned back, closing my eyes. I could still see her, clear as day. Unlike her peers, she had seemed completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere in the room. No furtive glances, no poorly concealed giggles. Just pure, unadulterated focus on the material.

It had been... refreshing. Intriguing.

I remembered how I'd found my gaze returning to her throughout the lecture, drawn by her intensity. And then, at the end of class, when she'd approached to sign the attendance sheet - I could still feel that odd anticipation I'd experienced, followed by a surprising twinge of disappointment when she'd simply written her name and moved on without so much as glancing up.

"A spark," I murmured, opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling. Was that what this was? This fascination with a student who seemed more interested in knowledge than in me?

I shook my head, trying to clear it. This was dangerous territory. She was my student, for heaven's sake. I was her professor. There were boundaries, lines that shouldn't be crossed.

And yet... as I sat there in the growing darkness of my living room, I couldn't deny the way my heart raced at the mere thought of her. The way her unwavering focus and quiet intensity had captivated me from the very first day.

"Interesting indeed, Ms. Yılmaz," I whispered into the empty room, echoing my thoughts from that first day. But now, a week later, with her image burned into my mind and this unfamiliar feeling stirring in my chest, those words felt like an understatement.

I stood up abruptly, heading for the kitchen. I needed a distraction, something to occupy my mind. But even as I busied myself with making dinner, I knew it was futile. Aina Yılmaz had sparked something in me, and I had a feeling it wasn't going to be easily extinguished.

AUTHOR's NOTE
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