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Chapter 2 - Her Laughter Was My Alarm

Season 1, Episode 2 of "Before She Knew My Heart"

The neighborhood always felt like it moved in slow motion—sleepy mornings, clinking chai cups, the occasional bark of a stray dog. But not when Ayla was around.

She was the only hurricane our calm little street ever knew. And strangely, the one I always hoped would arrive.

Every morning, like clockwork, she'd appear outside my window.

Sometimes humming. Sometimes shouting my name through her cupped hands. Sometimes just standing there with a crooked smile and a schoolbag twice her size.

And always—always laughing.

That laugh…

It wasn't delicate or graceful. It was messy, loud, and infectious.

The kind of sound that could pull someone out of the darkest dream.

That someone was me.

"Come on, Aarav! You'll be late again!"

She'd yell while standing on the garden bricks, balancing like it was a tightrope, waiting for me to emerge from my half-sleep daze.

Some days I'd pretend to be annoyed, just to hear her tease me back.

"Seriously? If you don't open the door in 10 seconds, I'm telling aunty you watched horror movies all night again!"

And she'd do it too. She always did.

One minute later, I'd be brushing my teeth at sonic speed, trying to look unfazed as she poked her head through the kitchen window like it was her second home.

Because it was.

We went to the same school. Sat together. Fought over pencils.

She'd steal my tiffin and then bribe me with one of her rainbow candies.

Every break, every bus ride, every stupid math class — we were a two-person universe.

But even back then, I noticed the little things no one else did.

Like how she'd tie her left shoelace twice just to feel lucky before an exam.

Or how she tapped her notebook with her pen three times before starting an answer.

Or how her smile faded for a split second before she pretended to be okay.

I memorized those things like prayers.

Because even as kids, I wasn't just watching her.

I was falling for her.

One evening, when the rain wouldn't stop, and school was canceled, she showed up with a flask of hot chocolate and sat on my doorstep.

We were maybe twelve. Maybe thirteen.

Old enough to talk about the world, but young enough to believe we were it.

"I wish time could freeze like this," she whispered, resting her chin on her knees.

I looked at her—drenched in rain, cheeks flushed, sipping cocoa like it was magic—and nodded.

Because in that moment, I didn't want to be anywhere else either.

They say people fall in love in moments. I don't agree.

With her, I didn't fall in love.

I grew into it.

Like how the morning sun doesn't just rise — it spills, slowly, deliberately, until everything is light.

That's what she did to me.

She became my light. My rhythm. My reason to wake up.

Her laughter wasn't just a sound anymore.

It was a promise.

That no matter how hard things got, she'd always come back.

Knocking. Laughing. Living.

And I?

I'd always be there — opening the door.

Even if she never knew why.

To Be Continued...

💭 Next chapter: "Why I Never Told Her"

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