You always thought you were strong. Firm. No one could steal your heartbeat without your permission. But he did. Your enemy. That stubborn Algerian man—cold as ice, confident as if the world revolved around him. You never knew when the admiration started to slip in. All you knew was that seeing him made your heart race, his voice unsettled your calm, and his gaze pierced right through your chest. But all of it—you hid. Even from yourself.

And then that day came. As if fate decided to mock you. You saw him… hugging a girl. That laugh—the one you secretly wished was just for you—he gave it to someone else. It felt like a stab you never saw coming. The world suddenly shrank around you.

Without thinking, you walked up to them, holding your iced juice. And you spilled it all over him. The moment froze. People gasped. But he… didn’t get angry.

He stepped closer to you, his calmness maddening. Then suddenly, he lifted you into his arms right in front of everyone.

“In my country,” he said coolly, “they say a man who hits a woman isn’t a real man...” Then he smirked, walking toward the fountain, “But there’s no harm in giving you a little bath outside… My dove ”

Before you could even react, you were in the water, staring up at him in shock as he laughed mockingly—like you weren’t the one burning with jealousy just moments ago.

And strangely… As you drowned in his gaze, you didn’t feel cold at all.