Aarohi sat on the edge of her bed, knees pulled close, palms pressed over her ears as if trying to block out something only she could hear.
Arin watched her with tightening fear.
He whispered:
"Aarohi… what are you hearing?"
Aarohi shook her head, voice trembling:
"Not hearing. Feeling."
Arin swallowed hard.
"Aarohi… please tell me."
She lifted her head slowly, eyes glazed with a faraway sadness that didn't belong to her.
"I think… I'm remembering the first time Aara broke."
Arin's heart clenched painfully.
"And he was there, wasn't he?"
Aarohi didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Her silence said everything.
And the memory pulled her under again.
---
It was late.
The school corridors were empty —
echoing with faint footsteps,
dim lights humming softly,
the world quiet in the way that makes loneliness louder.
Aara sat alone in the girl's washroom, knees pulled to her chest, arm wrapped tightly around herself.
She wasn't crying loudly.
She didn't know how to.
She cried silently —
the kind where your body doesn't shake
but your soul does.
Her tooth had broken.
Not from an accident.
Not from school.
But from her brother.
In anger.
In carelessness.
In cruelty she had learned to accept as "normal."
She covered her mouth with her hand, ashamed.
She whispered:
"I can't go out…
They'll laugh…
They'll stare…
They always stare…"
A soft creak echoed through the washroom door.
Aara stiffened.
"Aara?"
Her breath froze.
Not a girl's voice.
Not a teacher.
Riaan.
He stepped inside carefully, looking around, worry etched across his face.
Aara panicked, wiping her eyes quickly.
"Go away—" she whispered, voice cracking.
"Please… go. Don't see me like this."
Riaan didn't move.
"Aara… something's wrong. Tell me."
Aara shook her head violently and turned her face away, hiding behind her hands.
"I said go!"
Riaan walked in, slow and gentle, like he was approaching a frightened bird.
He knelt in front of her.
Aara kept her face buried in her palms.
"Don't look at me," she whispered.
Her voice broke like glass.
"Please."
Riaan didn't obey.
He reached out slowly —
giving her enough time to pull away
but hoping she wouldn't.
His fingers touched her wrist first.
Warm.
Careful.
Steady.
"Aara…" he whispered,
"you don't have to hide from me."
Aara shook her head harder.
"I look stupid," she cried quietly.
"My tooth… it's broken… everyone will laugh…"
Riaan gently but firmly removed her hand from her mouth.
Aara gasped, eyes widening with shame.
She turned away again.
"No—don't—"
But Riaan cupped her cheek, making her face him.
Her broken front tooth was visible.
Her lips trembled.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She expected pity.
Or disgust.
Or disappointment.
But Riaan looked at her with something else.
Something she didn't recognize at the time.
Something warm.
Full.
Human.
He whispered:
"You look like someone who was hurt…
not someone who should feel ashamed."
Aara's tears fell faster.
Riaan brushed her cheek with his thumb.
"Who did this?"
Aara shook her head.
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does," he whispered.
"It matters because it hurt you."
Aara broke then.
Really broke.
She leaned forward without thinking —
her forehead hitting his shoulder,
her tears soaking his shirt.
Riaan froze, stunned.
It was the first time Aara had touched anyone willingly.
The first time she had leaned on him.
The first time she allowed herself to be small in someone's arms.
Slowly, Riaan wrapped his arms around her.
Carefully.
Gently.
As if she might shatter.
Aara whispered through sobs:
"I'm so tired…
I'm so tired of hurting."
Riaan held her tighter.
His voice cracked.
"You don't have to hurt alone anymore.
I'm here."
Aara shook as more tears fell.
"No one has ever stayed," she whispered.
Riaan pressed his cheek to her hair.
"Then let me be the first."
Aara breathed sharply.
Her fingers curled into his shirt.
And for the first time in her life—
she let herself cry in someone's arms.
Not alone.
Not hiding.
Not silent.
With Riaan.
The boy who stayed.
---
Aarohi came back to the present with a broken sob.
Arin rushed to her, grabbing her shoulders.
"Aarohi?! What did you remember?!"
Aarohi covered her mouth, shaking.
"He found her in the washroom…
when she was crying…
when she was hurt…"
Arin's expression fell.
"And?"
"He sat with her," Aarohi whispered.
"He held her.
He became her safe place."
Arin shook his head slowly, pain flooding his eyes.
"Aarohi… this is killing you."
Aarohi cried harder.
"He was the only person she ever leaned on."
"And now you're feeling it too," Arin whispered, devastated.
Aarohi nodded.
"It hurts," she sobbed.
"Not because she loved him… but because she needed him."
Arin grabbed her hands.
"And what about now?"
His voice trembled.
"Do you need him now?"
Aarohi froze.
Her chest tightened painfully.
"No," she whispered.
"I need someone who's here."
Arin pulled her into a tight embrace, relief and heartbreak mixing.
"I'm here," he whispered fiercely.
"I'm always here."
Aarohi clung to him—
But the warmth behind her returned.
Soft.
Familiar.
Heartbreaking.
And a voice whispered through the air:
"You needed me once, Aara…
and I'll never forget that."
Aarohi stiffened violently.
Arin held her tighter.
But he felt it too.
Someone else was holding her memory.
Someone else was holding her past.
Someone else was holding her heart's old wounds.
Riaan.
---