A few weeks passed, and life continued like normal.
At least, it felt normal to you.
You still went to the gym whenever your uncle needed help. You still watched Khabib train and wondered how someone could willingly wake up every morning and put themselves through that much pain.
You still argued with him over everything.
Sometimes you wondered if annoying you was part of his training routine.
"You know, one day you might actually say something nice to me," you told him.
"See? This is exactly what I mean."
But even though he annoyed you constantly, you knew he cared.
That was just how Khabib was.
He didn't always say things, but he showed it.
You also still saw Islam sometimes.
Not enough for anything to really change.
Sometimes he was at the gym.
Sometimes you saw him at family gatherings.
Sometimes you exchanged a simple greeting and went your separate ways.
But you would be lying if you said you didn't notice him.
There was something about him.
Maybe it was how calm he was.
Maybe it was the fact that he didn't try to get attention from everyone around him.
Most people wanted to be noticed.
And for some reason, you liked that.
But you never let yourself think too much about it.
You were pretty sure he didn't see you that way.
To him, you were just Khabib's younger cousin.
And that was probably all you would ever be.
A few weeks later, you stayed late at the gym to help clean.
Your uncle had asked you to organize some things and wipe down the equipment after training finished. Everyone slowly started leaving until the gym became quiet.
Actually, you liked the quiet.
It gave you a break from everyone's voices.
When you finally finished, you grabbed your things and walked outside.
You weren't expecting anyone to be there.
A black BMW was parked outside.
And leaning against it was Ahmed.
He smiled when he saw you.
He pushed himself away from the car and walked closer.
He nodded, looking slightly nervous, which was unusual for him.
Normally Ahmed was confident.
But right now, he seemed like he had actually thought about what he wanted to say.
Then he opened the back door of his car.
Inside was a huge bouquet of roses.
He picked them up and handed them to you.
"I wanted to give these to you."
You looked at the flowers, completely surprised.
"I know it might be a lot, but I wanted you to know something."
"I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
You immediately looked away, feeling your face heat up.
You weren't used to people saying things like that to you.
Especially not so directly.
"I mean it," he continued. "You're kind, you're funny, and every time I see you here, you make the place feel different."
You didn't know what to say.
"I would really like to take you out sometime. Just us. A date."
You looked down at the roses.
It felt nice knowing someone actually wanted to spend time with you.
So after a moment, you smiled.
His face immediately lit up.
"I was hoping you would say that."
You shook your head, smiling.
What you didn't notice was the two people standing further away near the gym.
They had walked out just in time to see everything.
And neither of them looked happy.
Khabib's reaction was immediate.
His expression changed the second he saw Ahmed hand you the flowers.
Because in his mind, you were still the same little cousin who used to follow him around and ask him to carry things for you.
You were still the girl who complained when he teased you.
And now some guy was waiting outside the gym, giving you roses and asking you out?
"Who is that?" Khabib asked.
Islam didn't answer straight away.
He was too busy looking at you.
At the flowers in your hands.
At the way Ahmed looked at you like you were the only person there.
And something about it made his chest feel tight.
Because why did it matter?
You weren't even close like that.
He had no reason to feel angry.
He had seen Ahmed at the gym before.
He knew exactly what kind of guy he was.
The type of person who knew how to make people like him.
And now he was making you smile.
Trying to convince himself it wasn't bothering him.
"You don't like this either."
Islam immediately looked at him.
Because he didn't know what to say.
Khabib crossed his arms, still watching you.
Islam looked back toward you.
But his reason was different.
Khabib was worried because you were his little cousin.
Islam was jealous because, for the first time, he realized someone else could take your attention away from him.
And he didn't like that feeling.
You finally noticed them standing there.
Both of them looked over.
You walked toward them, still holding the roses.
"How long have you been standing there?"
Khabib ignored the question.
Khabib looked over at Ahmed.
The question caught you off guard.
"I don't know. He's nice."
Khabib didn't look convinced.
His eyes met yours for a second.
But his answer was too quick.
And for some reason, you didn't believe him.
Because you weren't even sure why you cared.
He had made that very clear.
Islam was impossible to read.
And maybe that was why you never let yourself hope.
Because liking someone who probably didn't like you back was pointless.
So you smiled, held onto your roses, and convinced yourself that everything was fine.
Even though, somewhere deep down, you wished you knew what Islam was thinking.
HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT THIS???! I’ve been unsure what to do with this but i hope u guys like it ;)
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