----‧₊˚✧ 𝑩𝑶𝑶𝑲 #1 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 ✧˚₊‧----
Layla Ibrahim is a hardworking, grumpy girl who prioritizes her studies and seeks academic validation. Louis Miller is a sunshine boy who ends up tutoring her against his will in a subject she...
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Saturday, 6:00 PM.
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
It has been two days since that incident—since I witnessed Layla having a panic attack right in front of my eyes.
It's the first time I've seen her so fragile, stripped of her usual confidence. Even though I don't want to admit it, it made my heart twist in the strangest way possible, aching for her like I'm the one hurting. It didn't make sense, but somehow, seeing her like this broke something in me.
I've spent so much time convincing myself she's nothing more than an annoyance, someone to challenge. But in that moment, it was like my whole world turned upside down, and my mind went blank.
Panic surged within me, making it hard to breathe when I saw her curled up on the ground, trying to hold herself together. All I could think about was how desperately I wanted her to be okay, how I wanted to say something—anything—to make the pain stop.
I was ready for her to fight me a million times, to throw her sharp words and fiery glares my way—but never to see her like this. It made my chest tighten and my mind go blank. Like I was experiencing the same symptoms as her, like her pain was my pain, too.
Just a panic attack.
She brushed it off as if she had grown accustomed to the feeling, and it made an unexpected pang of concern run through me. I keep questioning myself, why did I care that much? It wasn't the normal level of caring about a person you barely know. It felt more than that.
Confusion swirls within me, leaving me disoriented and lost in a haze of uncertainty. Maybe I'm overthinking all of this, maybe I'm the one who's clinging onto a moment that never mattered to her anyway.
She didn't talk about it, acted like it never even happened, and I couldn't bring myself to talk about it either. I wouldn't risk opening a sensitive topic like that with her, not if it meant making her uncomfortable.
After Mrs Geller had told me about Layla's grade on the last quiz, I immediately put the pieces together. Honestly, the questions were much harder than the ones we practiced every month. So, her panicking is definitely justified. Hell, even I struggled with many of those questions.
When I went to her house, it was mainly because I had to give her back her school bag, of course. But, deep down inside me, there was a small part that used that as an excuse to check up on her, to see if she was doing well.
And, I was surprised by my own thoughts. It made zero sense. Why did I even bother? It's not my problem. She's not my problem.
