Aarohi's POV
I don't remember how I got back to my room.
One second I was standing by the rooftop door, frozen in place, and the next… I was here. Sitting on the edge of my bed. Door locked. Lights off. Like maybe if I stayed still long enough, the world would stop spinning.
But it didn't.
Meera's voice keeps echoing in my head.
"You never look at me."
"You only notice her."
"I never even stood a chance."
I squeeze my eyes shut, but the words don't stop. They're burned in now. Sharp and ugly.
I didn't mean to hurt her. I never wanted to. I never even asked for this—whatever this is—between me and Aryan. He just… stayed. Kept showing up. Kept seeing me when I didn't even know how to be seen.
But now, it feels like I stole something.
Like I walked into a room that didn't belong to me and shattered the picture someone else had been painting.
Meera matters. She always has. She's strong, fierce, the kind of girl who doesn't show when she breaks.
And tonight… she broke.
Because of me.
I hug my knees, trying to make myself smaller. Like maybe if I shrink enough, the guilt will stop pressing on my chest.
I didn't ask for anyone's attention. I didn't ask Aryan to care.
But somehow… I became the reason someone else felt invisible.
What kind of person does that?
What kind of person watches someone else bleed and doesn't even realize they're holding the knife?
I press my face into my arms. I don't want to cry. I don't even think I can.
I just want to disappear.
Just for a while.
Long enough for things to go back to how they were—before Aryan, before Reyza, before I started ruining people without meaning to.
Because right now…
I don't know if I'm the victim of my own story.
Or the villain in someone else