Ruhan let out a slow breath, eyes flicking toward the empty street. "It's late. I'll walk you home."
Pragati shook her head weakly. "You don't have to—""I know," he said, calm but gentle. "But I want to."
His eyes lingered on her face for a moment, then on her trembling hands. He took off his jacket and carefully placed it over her shoulders.
It was warm. Smelled faintly like rain—and him. That familiar scent of soap and something she couldn't explain made her chest feel tight.
"You're safe now," he said quietly, his voice a little rough. "Don't walk alone after dark again."
She looked up at him, trying to smile but couldn't."Ruhan… why do you always help me?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Is it just you being you, or is there a reason?"
He didn't answer right away. His eyes moved past her, to somewhere far away. "You helped me once," he said finally. "Long back. Class Three… behind the back of the school."
Her brows pulled together. "Me?"
He nodded slightly. "They used to shove me around then. Said stuff about my dad… rumours that he was seeing a teacher. None of it was true, but no one cared." His voice cracked a little; he gave a short, sad laugh. "You were the only one who told them to stop."
She remembered the scene vividly.
His dress was soaked and caked with mud, his bag ripped, and the bullies were laughing like it was a game.
Her heart pounded in her ears, fear clawing at her, but she stepped forward anyway."Stop it!" she shouted, voice sharp. "Do you even realize what you're doing? This isn't fun—it's cruel!"For a moment, everything froze.
The laughter died, and the boys looked at each other, suddenly uneasy. Their smirks faltered, guilt flashing across their faces. No one had ever called them out like that before.
One muttered, "Whatever… we're going," dragging his bag along. Slowly, they slunk away, their bravado gone.
Now, standing here, that same look flickered in his eyes again. Softer. Sadder."I didn't even know you remembered that," she said quietly.
He smiled a little. "How could I forget?"
Her throat tightened. "You shouldn't have gone through that alone."
He looked down, that smile fading. "You were there. That was enough."
Then, after a pause, his voice dropped lower. "You'll get in trouble because of me someday."Pragati frowned. "Why would you say that?"
Ruhan let out a bitter breath. "People talk. I cause problems just by being around." He said it like he'd believed it for too long.
She pulled the jacket closer, her fingers clutching the fabric that still held his warmth. "I don't care what people say," she said softly. "You're worth standing beside."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The streetlight buzzed softly above them, the fog curling around their shadows. The jacket felt heavy on her shoulders — heavy, but safe.
Ruhan exhaled slowly. "From now on, I'll walk you home every day," he said, trying to smile. "And every morning, I'll pick you up with my bicycle. Deal?"
She looked at him, her lips curling into a small, shy smile. "Deal."
🖤 by Pragati Priya (pen name: Zoey)
"A jacket, a quiet promise, and the start of something neither of us expected."
-----This story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Please do not copy or redistribute this work without permission—it's meant to be shared only as intended by the author.
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