The night air hung heavy, a mix of ceiling fan hum and muffled voices from the hallway. Aaradhya lay curled on her hostel bed, the blue floral bedsheet creased beneath her, as if echoing the lines furrowing her brow.
She hadn't even changed into her nightclothes yet. The zip of her kurti felt too tight near her throat, and no matter how many times she shifted, her body wouldn't settle.
Her mind was replaying it. Over and over.
That moment.
Veer in the corridor. His hand catching hers. That deep, unfamiliar possessiveness in his voice—"Stay away from him. You're mine."
Then the sound of footsteps coming closer. And her own hands, acting before her brain could stop them, yanking him into the small washroom space, shutting the door behind them with a soft thud.
That moment.
The air had changed.
Like a thread pulled tight had suddenly gone slack.
He wasn't the same.
Gone was the fire in his eyes—the wild, possessive storm. In its place came a strange, lost silence. His breathing slowed. He looked around the cramped washroom as if waking up from a dream he didn't remember entering.
He had stepped back from her, his gaze suddenly panicked. Haunted, even.
Then that barely audible "Sorry."
And he left.
She hadn't moved for a whole minute after that. Just leaned back against the door, pressing her palm to her heart like she could shush it back to sanity.
Now, hours later, in the dim light of her room, she couldn't stop wondering:
Was it just him... or was it two people inside one?
Was he suffering?
And why—why—did she even care?
"He's not yours to fix," she whispered to herself. "You owe him nothing."
But her thoughts were stubborn. Her skin still remembered the heat of his nearness. Her hand still tingled from his grip. And her heart—dammit—her heart felt like it had peeked behind a curtain it wasn't supposed to.
She turned on her side, curling tighter. "Forget him. Just forget him."
But sleep didn't come easy that night.
Next Morning
The campus buzzed with the usual chaos — boys on bikes, girls clicking group selfies in the courtyard, and the sound of devotional songs from the temple nearby mingling with laughter.
Aaradhya stood near the front gate, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. Aaditya's car had just pulled up, and Anushka jumped out, immediately handing her a cup of iced coffee like a peace offering.
Anushka: "Double shot. I knew you'd need it."
Aaradhya smiled faintly, accepting it with a nod of thanks. Aaditya stepped out too, stretching like he'd just returned from battle.
Aaditya: "Your college gates still feel like prison walls."
Anushka rolled her eyes. "Because you're dramatic."
They talked a little, casual and light. But Aaradhya's eyes kept flicking — not at them, but past them. Over Aaditya's shoulder.
To him.
Veer.
He was walking across the courtyard with a few books in his hand, headed toward the Life Science Block. His posture was sharp. Measured. Controlled.
But he didn't glance at her.
Not even once.
Aaradhya's lips parted slightly. Her body tensed.
Why wasn't he looking?
He always looked.
And now that he didn't — it stung.
Aaditya followed her line of sight and raised a brow.
Aaditya: "What are you looking at?"
She blinked and quickly shook her head. "Nothing."
Aaditya wasn't convinced. He narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping closer.
Aaditya: "Okay, then tell me this. What happened yesterday?"
Aaradhya froze. "What do you mean?"
Aaditya: "After you came back from the washroom. You looked... rattled. Flushed. Like you'd seen a ghost or fought one."
Anushka leaned over with a teasing grin. "Oooh, mystery unlocked?"
Aaradhya's laugh was too quick, too thin. "I just... wasn't feeling great. The food maybe."
But her eyes betrayed her. They kept drifting to where Veer had disappeared, her fingers tightening slightly around the cold cup.
Something was changing. She didn't know what. She didn't know why.
All she knew was that she didn't feel like herself anymore.
And that scared her more than Veer ever could.
The late morning sun draped the corridor in a warm honeyed light. Students shuffled past with notebooks in their arms and half-finished coffees in hand. Aaradhya walked beside Anushka, their footsteps falling in rhythm as they made their way toward the Chemistry wing.
Anushka nudged her with a sly grin.
"So," she said, drawing out the word. "What's going on with you and Aaditya bhai?"
Aaradhya nearly stumbled.
"What?" she blinked, laughing, "Nothing's going on."
"Oh come on." Anushka rolled her eyes dramatically. "Don't play dumb with me. You should've seen his face yesterday. And yours too — you were looking at him like he hung the moon."
Aaradhya groaned, adjusting the strap of her bag. "You're imagining things. It's not like that between us."
Anushka raised a brow. "Uh-huh. So all those long stares? The way he always insists on dropping me off when he knows you'll be there? Coincidence?"
"Yes!" Aaradhya exhaled. "Look, Aaditya... he's safe. That's it. He's your brother. And I guess because of that, I don't feel the usual awkwardness I do with most guys. It's easy to talk to him. That's all."
Anushka hummed, unconvinced. "Hmm. And you think he feels the same?"
"I think he does," Aaradhya said softly. "We're friends. I'm just your friend to him. And... and his father's friend's daughter. There's nothing more than that."
But even as she said it — even as she spoke of Aaditya's calmness, his steadiness, the sense of safety he gave her — her mind wasn't entirely with him.
It was somewhere else.
Trailing behind someone else.
Veer.
She hadn't seen him all day except once at the gate.
It was strange. Usually, she'd spot him at least once — loitering near the labs during her practical hours, passing by the canteen when she was there, even just standing across the courtyard like some brooding statue. But today... nothing.
No fleeting glances. No irritating smirks.
Just absence.
And she hated that she noticed.
"I mean," she added quickly, trying to shake it off, "even if Aaditya did think something more — I don't. I don't see him that way."
Anushka gave her a long look. Then, gently, she said,
"I know my brother, Aaradhya. And I can see when he starts to look at someone differently. He doesn't look at you the way he looks at other people."
Aaradhya swallowed hard.
Before she could respond, the bell rang, shrill and sudden, pulling them both back into motion. Anushka gave her a wink as she walked ahead toward the classroom. Aaradhya followed slowly, the echo of her friend's words trailing behind her louder than her footsteps.
And as she reached the door, she felt a strange sensation prickle at the back of her neck. As if someone had been watching her from the far end of the corridor.
But when she turned, there was no one there.
Only shadows stretching long across the tiled floor.