Morning light stretched across the floor, cutting through the half-closed curtains and landing on the desk where Aveer sat with the kettle humming softly beside him.
He hadn't planned to make an extra cup of tea. His hands just did it.
The kettle hissed, filling the room with the faint scent of cardamom. Two cups instead of one.
Aarav stirred on his bed, still groggy, still pretending to read the notes on his lap. He could feel the quiet weight of last night between them, the things neither of them had said.
Aveer set the cups down, one beside his books, the other on the far corner of Aarav's table. No eye contact, no words.
Aarav blinked at it. "Is that… for me?"
Aveer didn't even look up. "Do you see anyone else in this room, genius?"
Aarav's lips twitched, caught between a smirk and a frown. "Then hand it over. Can't reach it from here."
Aveer sighed, muttering something under his breath, and crossed the small distance between their tables.
He held out the cup.
Aarav reached for it, fingers brushing Aveer's.
For a second, neither moved.
The warmth of the cup bled into their skin, but it wasn't the heat of the tea that made Aveer's pulse skip. The touch was accidental,small, harmless - but it sent a quiet current through the still morning air.
Aarav felt it too. The same spark he'd tried to ignore for days.
He took the cup, his voice lower now. "Thanks."
Aveer didn't answer. He turned back toward the kettle, pretending to busy himself with nothing.
But his hands trembled slightly as he poured the rest of the tea.
The silence that followed wasn't hostile this time.
It was something else, something neither of them was ready to name.
Steam curled through the small bathroom, blurring the cold tiles and fogging the mirror.
Aarav swayed slightly, gripping the edge of the sink. His fever still hadn't broken.
"You'll fall if you try that alone," Aveer muttered, standing by the door. He didn't want to help, but he couldn't walk away either.
"I'm fine," Aarav said, though his voice cracked halfway.
"No, you're not," Aveer sighed, stepping forward.
He steadied Aarav by the shoulders, the heat radiating off him far more than the steam could explain.
The distance between them disappeared before either noticed.
Every small breath echoed in the cramped space - louder, heavier.
Neither looked at the other. Eye contact felt dangerous.
But their hands brushed more than once - by accident, by hesitation, maybe by choice.
And in that suspended silence, something unfamiliar started to pulse between them.
Aveer could feel the weight of the moment pressing closer, his own heartbeat slipping out of rhythm.
Aarav lifted his gaze then, slow and uncertain, and for one heartbeat too long—they didn't look away.
They were into each other for a moment.
It wasn't a kiss. It wasn't even a word.
Just the quiet realization that the space between them had become too fragile to name.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
"Bro? You alive in there?" Arsh's voice cut through the steam.
The spell broke instantly.
Aveer stepped back as if burned, pushing Aarav gently away. "Finish your bath," he muttered, before leaving the washroom.
Outside, he leaned against the wall, heart racing.
"What the hell was that…" he whispered, running a hand through his hair.
But no matter how much he tried, the heat of that closeness wouldn't fade.
Aveer left for coaching a while ago. The room had gone quiet again, too quiet.
Aarav sat on his bed, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through messages from Arsh.
He was replying, or at least trying to. But every few seconds, his mind drifted back to that morning.
The warmth of Aveer's hand against his. The way their breaths had synced for a second that felt longer than it should've.
The sound of his own pulse echoing louder than the water running in the background.
"Bro, are you even listening?" Arsh's voice came from the other end of the call.
Aarav blinked, realizing he hadn't heard a word Arsh said for the past few minutes.
"Yeah..uh...what were you saying again?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to sound normal.
"I was saying," Arsh said, dragging the words teasingly, "you've been grinning like an idiot since the call started. What's up with you? Your roommate finally decided to not kill you today?"
Aarav froze for a second before scoffing. "Shut up, man. Don't start."
Arsh laughed on the other end. "Oh come on, it's the first time I've heard you this quiet. You usually can't shut up about how annoying he is. So what changed, huh?"
"Nothing changed," Aarav replied too quickly, lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan. "Just… tired."
Arsh chuckled knowingly. "Tired or distracted?"
"Arsh," Aarav warned, but even he couldn't stop the small smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Fine. Let's go to the mess, breakfast's still open. Maybe that'll fix your mood."
Aarav sighed, grabbing his phone and wallet. "Yeah, sure. I'm coming."
He hung up and sat there for a moment longer, still smiling faintly despite himself.
"What's wrong with you, Aarav…" he muttered.
But the answer sat heavy in his chest-something had changed, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
I don't know what was wrong with me today.
The moment I stepped into class, everything felt louder, the scribbling of pens, the teacher's voice, the tapping of shoes , everything except my own heartbeat, which wouldn't slow down.
It wasn't supposed to matter. It was just a moment in the shower, a stupid situation caused by fever and bad timing. But somehow… it didn't feel that simple.
The heat of his skin still lingered against mine, and no matter how much I told myself to forget it, it kept flashing back ; every breath, every accidental touch, every second before the knock on the door.
"Where are you lost, hero?" Shivi whispered, elbowing me gently.
I blinked and looked up. "Huh?"
"The teacher's glaring right at you," she whispered again, trying not to laugh.
On my other side, Reyansh smirked. "Bro's not just lost, he's daydreaming. Who's the lucky one, huh?"
"Shut up," I muttered, sitting up straighter. "Nothing like that."
But they were right. I was lost, lost in thoughts I shouldn't be having.
"Mr. Aveer," the teacher's voice cut through the fog in my brain. "If you're done dreaming, could you solve this for me?"
I stood up instantly, glancing at the question on the board. It took barely a few seconds for my mind to switch gears . I solved it easily, my voice calm, precise, every step correct.
The teacher nodded approvingly. "Good. Focus more on that and less on distractions."
A few students snickered. Shivi covered her laugh with a cough.
I just nodded, sitting back down, pretending to take notes. But even as I wrote, my mind wasn't on chemistry anymore.
That look on Aarav's face earlier, the closeness, the quiet between us , it kept looping in my head.
And for some reason, it didn't feel wrong.
It just felt… confusing.
The bell rang for the break. Reyansh was already packing up his bag.
"I'm bunking the next lecture," he said with a grin. "Can't handle another hour of thermodynamics."
Shivi rolled her eyes. "You'll fail the test, idiot."
"Failure builds character," he said dramatically, waving goodbye as he left.
And just like that, it was just the two of us ; me and Shivi.
She glanced at me curiously. "You've been weird all day. What's going on in that big head of yours?"
"Nothing," I said too quickly, eyes fixed on the notebook.
"You sure? You look like someone who just saw a ghost , or fell in love with one."
Her tone was teasing, but it hit somewhere deep.
"Stop reading into things," I muttered, flipping my page even though I hadn't written anything.
She smiled faintly, leaning back in her chair. "Fine. Don't tell me. But whatever it is, it's clearly winning the battle for your attention."
Before I could reply, the next teacher entered, and the class fell silent again.
I stared down at the open page in front of me , blank, except for one small, careless doodle.
Two circles that almost touched, but not quite.
And I didn't know why my fingers kept tracing the line between them.
At Pg*
I was walking back to the room, the sound of my own footsteps echoing through the corridor.
The bag in my hand rustled softly, medicines, Aarav's favourite cookies.
I don't even know why I picked them. Maybe habit, maybe something softer that I don't want to name.
The light in the corridor flickered once, then steadied. And that's when I saw him.
Vishesh.
For a second, I thought my mind was playing tricks.
Same tilted smirk. Same cold eyes.
The ghost I'd buried years ago, now standing outside our door - Aarav's and mine.
He didn't look surprised. Just… disgusted.
Like my presence here ruined the air he was breathing.
My grip tightened around the paper bag.
And then, just like that, my brain betrayed me - flashing those memories, one after another, sharp as glass.
The Past*
I was fourteen again. Standing in my living room in Ayodhya.
Vishesh's voice filled the space, dripping venom like he already played his part, he already brainwashed Aarav.
And Aarav - my Aarav, the one person who was supposed to know me - didn't even wait to ask.
"Trust me, Aarav, I didn't said it at all," I'd said, voice shaking, palms sweating.
He'd looked torn, but Vishesh had stepped between us before I could breathe.
"Aarav won't believe you, piece of shit," Vishesh had spat, his grin cruel.
"He knows your intentions. You could be anything but not our cousin. You should just take your ass and never show your face again."
I can still hear those words.
Still see Aarav looking at me, torn between two people ; the liar and the truth.
And when he finally spoke, his voice was soft but deadly.
"I have nothing to say."
Nothing.
That silence burned louder than any insult.
The sound of footsteps pulled me back to the present day.
Vishesh was walking toward me now, the same faint smirk curling at his lips.
He didn't have to say a word, his eyes said it all: You still don't belong here.
The air felt heavy, thick enough to choke on.
I wanted to move, to say something, but my body refused. I just stood there, watching him walk past like I was invisible.
When his shoulder brushed mine, a shiver ran down my spine. Not fear - rage.
I could feel my heart pounding in my throat, my hand trembling around the bag.
Every ounce of calm I'd built over these years cracked open in that moment.
All the warmth I'd started to feel for Aarav - gone.
The softness, the tea, the quiet glances , all of it dissolved into something bitter.
By the time I entered the room, Aarav was sitting on his bed, his face lighting up faintly when he saw me.
"Oh - you're back," he said. "Vishesh just left...."
I didn't let him finish.
I dropped the medicines on the table, the sound echoing in the room, then slammed the door shut behind me.
Aarav flinched but said nothing.
I didn't look at him either. I couldn't.
Inside, my chest felt hollow, full of anger I didn't ask for and pain I never deserved.
Because no matter how much time passed, the truth stayed the same.
He broke me with his silence once.
And somehow, even now, that silence still hurt more than any lie Vishesh ever told.
Aarav's POV
The door slammed so hard the walls seemed to flinch.
For a second, I just sat there, staring at the space where Aveer stood seconds ago. The same Aveer who, that very morning, had made me tea without a word. Who had looked at me, maybe not kindly, but not like this.
Now, he wouldn't even meet my eyes.
I blinked, trying to piece together what had gone wrong in the span of an hour.
He walked past me, movements sharp, deliberate, as if my presence itself offended him. He threw his bag in the corner, sat on his bed, and busied himself with his phone, not a single glance in my direction.
My throat tightened. "Hey… are you okay?" I asked carefully.
No answer.
Not even a shrug.
The silence stretched until it felt heavier than words could carry.
I tried again. "Did something happen at coaching?"
Nothing. He didn't even flinch this time. Just kept scrolling like I was air.
The bitterness in his eyes, I hadn't seen that look since we were kids. Since that summer I tried so hard not to think about.
And suddenly, I felt that same old sting of guilt I thought I'd buried years ago.
Why did he look at me like that again? Like I'd just stabbed him with a memory.
My gaze drifted to the table. The medicines. The snacks.
He'd bought them for me.
Even now, even while hating me, he still cared enough to remember what I liked.
And now he looked like he regretted it.
What did I do this time?
I opened my mouth, but he stood abruptly, brushing past me on his way to the cupboard, muttering something under his breath I couldn't quite catch, except the word "mistake."
The word hit harder than I wanted to admit.
"Look, if I said something wrong...." I started.
He stopped, half-turned, and for the first time his eyes met mine.
They weren't angry anymore , they were… hurt.
That made it worse.
"Don't bother, Aarav," he said flatly. "Just… don't."
And then he lay down, back to me, pulling the blanket over his head like he was building a wall I couldn't climb.
I sat there, watching the rise and fall of his breathing, my chest heavy with something I didn't have the courage to name.
I didn't know what happened in that corridor, but whatever it was, it dragged him back to a place I thought we'd both escaped.
My eyes shifted to the medicine packet again, the one he'd dropped in anger.
The same one he bought because I couldn't even take care of myself.
He called me a mistake, but he still cared.
And that made the ache worse.
Because maybe the real mistake was mine, from years ago.
To be continued...