Chapter eighteen: Love at First Punch
(Ria's POV)
The festival had been... a whirlwind. Colors, fabrics, laughter, music - everything alive and chaotic. I thought I had survived the storm, the setup, and Miles's teasing. I thought wrong.
It started small.
"I can't believe you actually painted over my banner!" I snapped, hands on my hips, glaring at him.
Miles leaned casually against a chair, smirk in place, dark curls plastered from earlier rain. "I thought it needed... personality."
"Personality?" I yelled. "You call ruining three hours of work personality?!"
He shrugged. "Hey, maybe if you weren't so dramatic-"
"I'm dramatic?!" I interrupted, voice rising, hands shaking. "You're the one who keeps-"
"I keep what?" His smirk widened. "Annoying you? Making you laugh? Showing up everywhere you go?"
I saw red. Not literally, but close. All the stress, the storm, the chaos of the festival, the paint - everything coalesced.
Without thinking, I punched him. Hard.
His head jerked back. He stumbled, catching himself on a chair. Silence fell. Even Maya and Emma froze mid-giggle.
I immediately covered my mouth. "Oh my god. Miles! I- I'm so sorry!"
He held his jaw, shock on his face, eyes wide. "...You just... punched me."
"I didn't mean- I mean- I was mad-"
He rubbed his jaw slowly. "Yeah... I can see that."
I sank onto a chair, flustered, hair sticking to my wet forehead. "You're okay, right?"
"Yeah," he said, voice tight, "I'm okay."
Maya muttered from across the room, "Well... that escalated."
Ethan appeared then, calm as always, crouching beside me. "Are you okay, Ria?"
I nodded, flustered. "Yeah... I think I... might've gone too far."
Ethan gave me a small, understanding smile. "It's fine. People get heated. He'll live."
I looked back at Miles. He wasn't smiling. He was rubbing his jaw, staring off into the distance. And for a split second, I thought - he looks kind of... impressed?
---
After cleanup, I left the festival hall with Ethan and Maya. Miles stayed behind to straighten things out, still nursing the faint sting of my punch.
I couldn't stop thinking about it, about how wild it had all gotten.
I also couldn't stop thinking about him. And that made me feel guilty - for what? I didn't even know.
---
Miles's POV
I'm sitting in my room, ice pack pressed to my jaw, replaying the whole festival day in my head.
She punched me. Hard. Hard enough to leave a mark, hard enough to surprise me, hard enough that my stupid Canadian jaw is throbbing.
And I... loved it.
Not the pain. Not the punch itself. But her. Her fire. Her insane, unfiltered, gorgeous self.
Threads. Ria. Zaria Leona Rahman.
She had me. And I don't even know how. Maybe it's the nickname, maybe it's her banging fists and sharper wit, maybe it's the way her hair glows when the sun catches it...
I think I'm in love.
No. Not love.
Love at first sight?
No. No.
Love at first punch.
I smirked through the throbbing ache in my jaw. Yeah... that sounds right.
Love at first punch.