Laced in Your Ruin

Chapter [VII]

The campus was alive with its usual morning chaos—students pouring into the gates, groups huddled together gossiping about the latest college drama, and the distant sound of someone still perfecting their musical notes for an upcoming event. Amidst this familiar hustle, Qays Malik walked through the corridors of the prestigious institution with the same air of indifference he always carried. His black hoodie, sleeves casually rolled up, and hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans gave him an aura of effortless authority. Students parted ways as he walked by, not out of respect but out of wariness. Qays never acknowledged anyone unless absolutely necessary, and his reputation of being cold and unapproachable was well-known across the campus.

Qays was in his final year of graduation. Unlike most of his peers who still struggled to figure out their career paths, he already had multiple prestigious offers from international universities for his postgraduate studies. But he had refused them all. The bitterness he carried towards his parents was enough to make him turn his back on the future they had meticulously planned for him. Instead, he had resolved to take up his family business, one he had been expected to inherit since birth, but on his own terms. For now, he was enrolled in this class simply because it was an extra subject he had taken on a whim.

And yet, fate had a cruel sense of humor, because it was in this very class that his path crossed with Inara.

Inara, unlike Qays, did not have the luxury of choosing her future on a whim. Coming from a humble background, she had fought her way through every academic challenge to be where she was. She had always been diligent, pouring herself into her studies, determined to one day become an assistant professor at a reputed university. She never asked her parents for anything, even when they insisted. Instead, she worked tirelessly on freelance projects, earning enough to support her education and contribute to household expenses.

Her world was built on hard work and perseverance—not privilege and power.

She was aware of Qays Malik. Who wasn't? His reputation as the most arrogant and standoffish guy in college preceded him. But she had no interest in him, nor did she care for the unnecessary drama that surrounded his name. Inara believed in keeping her head down and staying focused.

But fate, as always, had other plans.

The sun had begun its slow descent, casting a golden hue over the campus as students flooded the corridors, either lost in their books or their little dramas. Among them, two figures stood out—not for their camaraderie, but for the undeniable tension that crackled in the air between them.

Qays Malik leaned against the pillar outside the lecture hall, his arms crossed over his chest, exuding an air of practiced indifference. His sharp features were unreadable, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with detached boredom.

And then there was Inara Alawi, standing a few feet away, her posture rigid, her grip tight around the strap of her bag as though she were restraining herself from hurling it at him. Her day had already been long, and the last thing she needed was another encounter with the most insufferable person she had ever met.

"Move," she said tersely, trying to sidestep him.

Qays barely lifted his gaze. "There's enough space for you to pass."

Inara let out an exasperated breath. "Yes, if I had the ability to walk through walls, Malik."

His lips curled at the corner, more amused than anything. "I thought a scholar like you could figure out a way."

Her nostrils flared. "Do you wake up every day with the sole purpose of being intolerable, or does it come naturally?"

"Does it bother you?" He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were too busy changing the world with your brilliance to be affected by trivial things like my existence."