Beyond the game

Got it! I understand what you're going for now—Azra should be aloof, not revealing too much about herself right away, especially to strangers. And Yuzarsif needs to be with his friends to set up the dynamic and his initial approach in a way that keeps things interesting.

Let me rewrite the first chapter

Azra glanced at the clock behind the counter. Another hour left of her shift. It was late afternoon, and the supermarket was quieter than usual, the typical evening rush nowhere to be seen. She sighed inwardly, resuming her task of organizing the produce section. Her mind wasn't in the store, as it rarely was these days. Her goal was always to get through the shift without too much hassle, to get home and continue studying for her medical exams.

Her aloofness had become second nature. She had no time for small talk or personal connections. Men, especially, were an afterthought in her life. She had learned long ago that men were distractions—no one was worth investing time or energy into when there were greater goals ahead.

That's why when the group of young men entered the supermarket, her gaze barely flickered. They were laughing among themselves, voices echoing lightly through the aisles. She'd seen them around before—an affluent-looking group, well-dressed, and too self-assured to be anyone she'd care to notice.

But one of them, the tallest among them, caught her eye as he glanced over. She quickly looked away, focusing back on her task. He was good-looking, that much was obvious, but she'd learned to ignore looks. Azra wasn't interested.

"Excuse me," a smooth voice interrupted her thoughts. She didn't need to look up to recognize it. The same man who had caught her eye stood a few feet away, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Can you point me to the coffee section?"

Azra kept her expression neutral. She didn't respond immediately, giving him a brief glance without fully meeting his eyes.

"Next aisle," she said curtly, gesturing with a slight tilt of her head. "Middle shelf, on the right."

He didn't immediately leave. His eyes lingered for a moment, as if deciding whether to continue the conversation. His friends, a bit rowdy and unaware of the interaction, continued chatting behind him, but he seemed to be focused entirely on Azra.

"Thanks," he said after a beat, and yet, instead of walking away, he stepped a little closer, his presence suddenly more commanding.

She didn't flinch. "Is there anything else?" she asked, her tone polite but with a layer of indifference.

He smiled, unfazed by her detachment. "Actually, yes. I was wondering if you could recommend something... strong, you know? Something that'll keep me awake for hours."

Azra raised an eyebrow but didn't allow any sign of intrigue to show on her face. "There's a dark roast by the corner. That's the strongest option."

She made the mistake of glancing up at him briefly. He was still standing there, watching her with an intensity that felt like he was studying her. It was disarming. But she quickly looked back at the shelf, focusing on her task.

"Dark roast it is, then. I'll take your word for it," he said, stepping toward the coffee section, but his voice was still close. She could feel his gaze lingering on her.

She said nothing more, hoping he would get the hint and leave. But instead, he turned back to face her, his hands resting casually in his pockets.

"You know," he began, his tone relaxed, "I don't think I've ever seen someone as... focused as you are. Most people I meet in places like this are either distracted or rushing around. But you? You're different."

Azra stiffened, but she masked it quickly.

"I'm just doing my job," she said, keeping her tone neutral. "No need to make a big deal out of it."

He studied her for a moment before chuckling softly. "Fair enough. You don't like to talk much, huh?"

Azra didn't answer. Her silence was enough of an answer. She wasn't interested in engaging any further. The man seemed to sense it, though his smile didn't falter.

"I'll get that dark roast then. Thanks for the help," he said, though his words carried an underlying meaning, as if he was still testing the waters. But he finally turned away, heading toward the coffee section with a casual confidence that radiated from him.

She thought that was the end of it.

But she was wrong.

The minutes ticked by. Azra moved to the next aisle, adjusting some shelves, but the group of young men kept lingering, as if they were taking their time—intentional, perhaps? She couldn't quite figure it out, and she didn't care enough to waste her energy on them.

Yet, as the group turned to leave, the tall man from earlier paused at the register, his eyes meeting hers again. This time, he said nothing. He simply watched her, his gaze lingering just a little longer than comfortable.

Azra didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. She finished stocking the shelves, a deliberate effort to show that his attention meant nothing to her.

When they left, he was the last to exit, turning to offer a small smile before the door closed behind him.

Azra exhaled, annoyed at herself for feeling... something.

It wasn't like her to care.

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