The rain had finally stopped by the time I left school, but the whole world still felt wet, like it hadn't completely recovered from the storm. My shoes squelched against the pavement, my bag felt heavier than usual, and my brain? A whole circus.
Everything from detention, everything Aarav said, everything he didn't say — all rewinding like someone slammed the replay button.
He walked beside me silently, hands in pockets, head lowered just enough to let his hair fall into his eyes. He wasn't his usual chaotic self today. No teasing. No smirk. No devilish plan to annoy me. Just… him. Quiet. Soft. Careful.
Dangerous.
We reached the gate and I slowed down, pretending to look for a tuk, even though we both knew I wasn't actually going anywhere. I just didn't want the moment to end before I figured out what this weird tension between us meant.
Aarav cleared his throat.
"You're… quiet."
"Wow, thanks for the observation," I muttered. "Very insightful."
He chuckled. "Well, someone has to balance your dramatic energy."
I side-eyed him. "I wasn't dramatic."
"You literally looked like you were arguing with your own soul in detention."
I slapped his arm lightly. "Shut up."
"Make me."
There it was — the smirk. The one that made my brain buffer for five full seconds. I hated that he knew exactly how much it affected me.
I turned away. "Whatever. I'm going home."
But before I could walk off, Aarav grabbed my wrist — not roughly, not in a movie-scene way, but gently. Like he was asking permission without saying the words.
"Wait."
I froze.
He froze.
Even my heart froze but somehow kept beating.
"What?" I whispered.
He didn't answer immediately. He just looked at my wrist, then my eyes, then somewhere over my shoulder like he was trying to gather the courage stored in some invisible battery pack.
"I just…" He sighed. "Things feel different now."
"Different how?" I asked, even though I already knew.
"You know how."
I swallowed. Hard.
Aarav stepped a little closer, just enough for me to feel his warmth even in the cool evening wind.
"When you walked into detention that day…" he said quietly, "I thought it would be just another stupid detention we'd get through. But nope. You had to sit there acting strong and annoyed and bossy." His lips curved. "And then you decided to look beautiful on top of that."
"Aarav—"
"I'm serious."
The air changed.
My heartbeat changed.
Even the sky felt like it held its breath.
I looked down, suddenly shy. "You're weird."
"You like it."
"…maybe," I mumbled.
His fingers slowly loosened around my wrist, but he didn't let go. It felt intentional.
Then he asked the one question I'd been terrified of and craving at the same time.
"Am I the only one feeling this?"
I didn't answer.
Because if I did, it would be real.
And being real was scary.
Just then — perfect timing as always — a van honked so loudly it felt like the universe slapped the moment away.
I jerked back. "I– I should go. My dad will ask where I am."
Aarav nodded, though disappointment was written all over him. "Yeah. Okay."
I took a few steps back, then turned around. "Um… thanks for walking with me."
"Always."
The word hit deeper than it should've.
I walked to the van, opened the door halfway, then paused and looked at him again.
He was still watching me.
Still waiting.
Still hoping.
And I?
I sent him a smile small enough to deny later, but warm enough that he understood.
The van pulled away, and as we drove, I looked back through the rear window.
Aarav was still there.
Hands in pockets.
Staring at the road like it betrayed him.
Later that night, I lay in bed staring at my ceiling, hugging my pillow like it held answers. My mind kept replaying everything — the way he held my wrist, the way he said "always," the look in his eyes like he'd finally decided what he wanted.
And the scariest part?
I wanted it too.
But wanting him meant letting him in.
Letting him in meant letting him hurt me.
Did I trust him that much?
My phone buzzed.
Aarav:Reached home?
My heart did an Olympic jump.
Me:Yeah. Why?
His reply came fast.
Aarav:Just checking. Can't sleep if I don't know.
I threw the phone across my bed, face burning.
Why was he saying things like this?
Why was he acting like he cared?
Why was I… enjoying it?
I forced my pillow over my face.
This boy was going to destroy my peace.
But also…
Something told me he might be worth it.