Chapter 12 – A Heart That Knows
There's a moment—quiet and unnoticed—when you stop wondering if someone loves you, and start feeling it in the way they exist beside you.
Mehar felt it in how Aarav remembered her coffee order, even when she changed it twice.
She felt it in how he'd listen to her ramble about art projects he didn't understand, but always asked for updates.
And Aarav? He felt it when she waited in the corridor after his tough exams, handing him his favorite snack without asking how it went.
They hadn't said the words.
But some hearts just know.
—
One afternoon, the sun was unusually soft for summer. The campus was quieter than usual. Classes had ended early, and most students had left.
Mehar and Aarav found themselves sitting on the basketball court, backs against the fence, shoes off, socks mismatched.
"Tell me something you've never told anyone," Mehar said suddenly.
Aarav looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Anything?"
She nodded.
He hesitated for a second. Then—
"When I was younger, I used to imagine my future with someone whose face I didn't know. I just knew she'd feel... peaceful."
Mehar smiled faintly. "You imagined love before you saw it?"
"I think I did."
"And now?"
He turned to her, his voice lower. "Now I know what her eyes look like when she's mad. And how she curls her hair around her finger when she's thinking."
Mehar swallowed. "Aarav..."
He didn't push her to say anything back. But the way he looked at her? It said everything.
—
The next few weeks were a blur of routines and soft moments.
They studied in the library, side by side.
She started reading his favorite novel, chapter by chapter.
He took up sketching, even though he was terrible at it, just to be part of her world.
They weren't trying to impress each other anymore. They were just... learning each other.
And somehow, that was more intimate than anything else.
—
One rainy evening, after an event at school, Aarav walked Mehar to her gate.
She hesitated before going in. The rain was falling in soft waves around them, the streetlamp casting golden light between droplets.
Mehar looked up at him, her eyes unreadable.
"I don't know how this ends," she said softly.
He tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear.
"I don't either. But I know how it begins."
She smiled, small and trembling.
"I think it already has."
—
They hadn't said "I love you."
But in that moment—soaked in rain, standing close enough to hear each other breathe—they didn't need to.
Some hearts know.
Some silences say more than words ever could.
And theirs were speaking loud and clear.