The first time you noticed it, you ignored it.
It could’ve been coincidence.
The hospital cafeteria was crowded that afternoon, interns rushing around with files, nurses arguing about shifts, the smell of stale coffee floating through the air.
You sat at your usual table, flipping through a patient file.
And then—
A chair scraped loudly across the floor.
You didn’t look up.
But a familiar voice spoke.
“Doctor sahiba, you didn’t even say hello.”
Your eyes lifted slowly.
Kamyar Sohail.
Sitting across from you.
Like he owned the place.
You stared at him blankly.
“…Do I know you?”
His lips twitched.
“You do,” he said casually, leaning back in the chair. “You just refuse to acknowledge it.”
You closed the file with a snap.
“I’m working.”
“And I’m supporting you emotionally.”
You blinked.
“What?”
Kamyar leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands as if he’d discovered the most fascinating thing in the world.
“You look stressed,” he said thoughtfully. “Doctors shouldn’t be stressed. Bad for the patients.”
You stood up immediately.
“Goodbye, Mr. Sohail.”
“Kamyar.”
You walked away without responding.
Behind you, his amused voice followed.
“See you tomorrow, Doctor.”
You thought he was joking.
He wasn’t.
The next morning—
He was outside the university.
Leaning against his car.
Sunglasses on.
Watching you walk through the gate.
Your steps slowed.
Kamyar straightened, pushing off the car like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Good morning.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“…Why are you here?”
“To see you.”
Your patience snapped instantly.
“You don’t know me.”
He tilted his head.
“I’m trying to.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Friends?”
“No.”
“Acquaintances?”
“No.”
“Civil enemies?”
You walked straight past him.
But he simply fell into step beside you.
“You’re very rude,” he commented.
You stopped abruptly, turning toward him with an incredulous expression.
“Why are you following me?”
Kamyar looked genuinely confused.
“I’m walking.”
“You’re walking behind me.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been doing that for three days.”
He shrugged lightly.
“Consistency builds trust.”
Your jaw clenched.
You started walking again.
He followed again.
The hospital hallway echoed with your footsteps.
And his.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Finally, you spun around so suddenly he nearly walked into you.
“Kamyar Sohail.”
“Yes?”
“Stop following me.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to be your friend.”
His expression softened slightly.
“You don’t even know me yet.”
“And I don’t want to.”
A few nurses nearby were watching now.
Whispering.
You could practically feel the gossip forming.
Kamyar noticed too.
And yet he still looked completely calm.
“You’re angry,” he observed.