Serin couldn't stand the boy named Marshad who lived next door. If there had been a way to measure the extent of her annoyance, it would have easily surpassed the size of the Atlantic Ocean. And the reason for this frustration was simple—Marshad completely ignored her. It wasn't just any ordinary dismissal; it was on an extreme level, as if he thought he was the most knowledgeable person in the world.

For example, just a few days ago, on the day Mr. returned from Canada with his degree, things took another turn.

After taking a shower, Serin was washing her hair on the small rooftop attached to her room when she saw a young man getting out of a Persian black car. From her vantage point above, it was hard to make out his face. The sunlight, reflecting off a mirror in the corner of the rooftop, fell directly into her eyes. However, when she saw the car parked in front of Marisha Aunty's house, she quickly realized that the young man was Marisha Aunty's son, who had just returned from England. Serin tried to get a better look at him through the gap between her fingers, but in that very moment, she removed her sunglasses to see him more clearly and was caught by his eyes.

Through the small gap in her fingers, she saw his light yellowish eyes. At that exact moment, her heart skipped a beat for reasons she couldn't understand. She quickly regained composure, flashing him a sweet smile and waving her hand. She always tried to introduce herself to new people, but this time, the handsome young man in the navy blue shirt did not respond at all. He merely looked at her with an indifferent expression, then walked into the house. Serin's ego was bruised. How dare he ignore her like that? She swore to herself, "I'll make him pay for this."

Days passed, and one time when Rodshi went to Marisha Aunty's house with kebabs, the woman began chatting about various things. However, Serin paid little attention to her. The moment Mrs. Marisha left to make coffee, Serin quickly stood up, eager to finally meet this young man.

When she reached the second floor, she saw him standing by the window at the end of the hallway, engrossed in a book. He wore glasses, and his silky hair fell over his forehead. A cup of coffee sat beside him, sending steam into the air. Serin approached him, extending her hand with a warm greeting.

"Hi. I'm Rodshi. Nice to meet you," she said with a smile.

But the young man didn't reciprocate. He didn't shake her hand, nor did he say a word. He just stared at her, unwavering. Not once did he blink. Serin tried to decipher the expression in his eyes but failed. His eyes were empty—emotionless, calm like the water of a lake, and deep like the ocean. She stood there for a moment, lost in the intensity of his gaze, but eventually, he turned away without a word and walked off, completely ignoring her.

And so, Serin's frustration with him began to grow. She tried repeatedly to talk to him, but he always remained indifferent. And as always, we tend to chase those who ignore us. The same happened with Serin. Despite his repeated rejections, she kept trying to speak with him. Over time, she learned his name—Marshad. His name, like his appearance, was admirable, but his behavior was downright contemptible. She finally decided, "This is the last time I will try. If he doesn't speak to me after this, I'll never talk to him again. Not a word. Even if he dies wanting to speak to me, I won't say a single thing to him."

TO BE CONTINUE.........................................