Noor had her earphones stuffed into her ears, disconnecting her from the outside world. The music that was playing was some lo-fi beats channel she'd found on YouTube, and somehow it had become the best company she's ever had.

Her physics homework remained untouched in front of her, pages fluttering occasionally with the wind that came in from the window opposite her bed, while she continued to scroll through her phone, stopping at times to read the texts that popped up, making her phone vibrate in her grip.

She glanced wearily towards her homework, and then towards the clock, looking at the time. 6:25 PM. Her homework was due by 8, and there was no way she'd be able to complete even fifty of these equations in that time. An hour later, she dropped her pen when her hand cramped up suddenly, wincing and staring down at the pages. The ink was splattered randomly, bleeding through the page in some spots she'd held it for too long, railroading in some, and completely missing in some. She was still 5 equations behind, but she decided to stop anyway, and uploaded the photos of her homework on the form.

Her mother knocked at her door to remind her again of how she had to go out today to get milk and other groceries. Noori nodded, picking up her jacket from the floor and putting it on. Her hair fell slightly past her shoulder, still messy at the bottom because she didn't bother going to the hairdresser-- after all, salons aren't exactly open for business at 3AM.

Putting on the first pair of shoes she could find, she picked up her keys at the front door. It was nearly the end of October. The air wasn't too cold, nor too hot, which reminded her exactly why she loved the season.

Her hair moved with the wind, annoyingly sticking to her lip balm and she cringed, peeling it away from her face. It happened once again, and she finally pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, pulling the hood of her jacket over the head.

It seems as in she'd forgotten how to walk while she tied her hair, because the next thing she knows, there's a distinct smell of coffee surrounding her, on her clothes, and seeping through the material of the sweatshirt. She hissed when it reached her skin, pulling the material away from her stomach.

A panicked voice came from the floor, and she looked down. Cursing, she pulled the petite figure to their feet.

"I'm so sorry," The person apologised, eyes worried as they looked at Noori's wet hoodie. "I can buy you a new one if you want?" Noori was surprised at that.

"No, no, it's alright," Noori finally says, letting go of her sweatshirt. The now cold, wet fabric clung uncomfortably to the skin. Still feeling bad, the person took out a hoodie from the bag they were holding, "you can keep this, if you want to, there's no need for you to go around wearing a white hoodie with a coffee stain."

Reluctant at first, Noori accepted the sweatshirt.

"I'm Noori," She offered a hand.

The other person shook it back, a small smile on her face, "Hi, I'm Amyra."

"So, Amyra, is it alright if I get your number? you know, in case I want to return this back to you?" Noori questioned.

That day, Noori returned home with groceries, a stained sweatshirt, a new sweatshirt, and the number of the girl she knew she'd be seeing way too often.