Aarohi's POV – The Next Day
I didn't sleep. Not really.
I just laid there, staring at the ceiling as the hours passed like strangers. Every sound outside my window felt too loud. Every thought in my head, louder.
And now, in the daylight, I feel… hollow.
Not angry. Not sad. Just distant.
I see Aryan waiting near the corridor. Same spot as always. Like nothing's changed. Like he hasn't noticed the storm I'm carrying inside me.
But everything's changed.
I don't walk toward him like I usually do. I turn down the other hallway instead, pretending I didn't see him.
I feel his eyes on me. I don't look back.
Not because I'm mad at him. I'm not.
I just… don't know how to face him.
I don't want to see the guilt in his eyes if he realizes I heard everything.
Or worse—the pity.
I sit through class like a ghost, nodding at questions, staring at pages I don't read. Meera doesn't talk to me either. Not that I blame her.
We're both pretending today.
Pretending we don't feel things cracking beneath the surface.
At lunch, Aryan finds me again.
"Aarohi," he says gently. "Hey. Where were you this morning? I messaged you—like five times."
I force a smile. "Just tired."
He studies me for a second longer than usual. "You okay?"
Lie, Aarohi. Just lie.
"Yeah," I say, trying to sound normal. "Just a weird day."
He nods slowly, but I can tell he doesn't believe me.
"Want to go sit near the courtyard?" he asks. "Just us?"
My chest tightens.
That's what she wanted, too. Just one moment where she mattered more than me.
"I… I think I'll stay here," I say quietly. "Got a few things to catch up on."
A beat of silence. Then a soft "Okay."
I don't look up until I hear his footsteps fading away.
And when I do… I realize my hands are shaking.
Aryan's POV
She didn't look at me.
That's the first thing I noticed this morning.
She always looks. Even when she doesn't say much—there's a flicker in her eyes, something quiet but real. Like she's trying to read me before I even speak.
But today?
Nothing.
She walked right past me like I was just… air.
And that smile—if you could even call it that—it wasn't hers. It was the kind people wear when they're trying to hide something too heavy to carry in public.
I tried brushing it off at first. Told myself maybe she was tired. Maybe she needed space.
But when I saw her in class, it hit harder.
The way she sat so still. The way she didn't even glance at Meera. The way her hands stayed clenched in her lap, like she was holding herself together by the fingertips.
I messaged her five times this morning. Not a single reply. That's never happened.
And when I finally asked her to come to the courtyard—just us—she said no.
She never says no.
Not like that. Not with her voice so soft it felt like a wall.
And now I'm sitting here, staring at my phone, wondering what the hell I missed.
Did I do something? Say something?
I scroll up through our old texts. The ones where she sent three dots and then deleted them. The ones where she said, "Do you ever feel like there's someone inside you that even you don't understand?"
She's pulling away.
And the worst part?
I don't think she wants me to follow.
But I will.
Even if she shuts every door, I'm going to knock until she answers.
Because I promised I'd protect all of her.
And right now, I think she's trying to protect me…
From herself.