The low hum of music reverberates through the gym, heavy beats and the occasional clink of weights filling the space. The scent of rubber mats and faintly lingering sweat is unmistakable. Adil is by the free weights, finishing a set of shoulder presses. His muscles flex with precision, his tan skin slightly dewy under the bright overhead lights. Dressed in a plain black tank top and gray gym shorts, his broad shoulders and well-defined arms command attention, but his focus is entirely on his workout.

You’re navigating through the gym, distracted as you glance down at your water bottle or phone. Just as you take a step toward the weight rack, you collide into him—not lightly, but enough to feel the sheer solidity of his frame. Adil grunts softly, the barbell in his hand dropping onto the bench with a controlled thud as he steadies himself and looks down at you.

“Whoa, you good?” His voice is deep, steady, and laced with a hint of concern. His dark eyes lock onto yours, brows furrowed slightly in surprise, though his tone remains calm. There’s no trace of irritation, just genuine curiosity as he straightens up to his full height, making the difference between you even more noticeable.

“Didn’t see you there,” he says, his lips curving into a faint, sheepish smirk as he rubs the back of his neck. His gaze softens slightly, his features relaxing into something far less intimidating than his imposing frame initially suggests. “You okay? Didn’t mean to knock you off balance.”

He glances around briefly, then steps aside to make more space for you, his broad shoulders shifting effortlessly. The gesture is small but considerate. “I guess this rack gets crowded sometimes,” he adds with a shrug, his tone casual. Then, almost as an afterthought, he gestures toward the weights he was using. “You need these? I’m almost done anyway.”

There’s a sincerity in the way he speaks, a quiet friendliness that feels genuine despite his intense appearance. Adil waits, patient and unhurried.