Shivam's fingers lingered on the page longer than they should have. The rough sketch of the glowing orange shards seemed to burn through his skin, even though it was only just a sketch on paper. His pulse hammered in his ears as he looked up.
Bhumika's hand darted out, snatching the drawing from him and shoving it back into her stack of notes. "It's nothing," she said quickly, her voice too sharp to be casual.
Shivam blinked at her. "That didn't look like nothing."
Her hair had come loose from its knot, a few strands falling across her face as she pressed the papers tight to her chest. She wouldn't meet his eyes, instead crouching again to scoop up the last of her books. "Just sketches. Stress relief. Everyone doodles weird things sometimes."
"Sketches of… crystals?" Shivam asked, his tone caught between curiosity and concern.
"Exactly. Crystals. Rocks. Shapes. Whatever. Overthinking it is pointless." She stood abruptly, her bag slung across one shoulder, her movements fast like she wanted to escape the moment.
But Shivam didn't step aside. He moved with her, falling into stride as they left the courtyard. "Bhumika, I've seen that shape before."
That made her pause, even if for just a heartbeat. She turned slightly, her eyes searching his face as if trying to read how much he meant it. Then she forced a small laugh, too thin to be convincing. "Congratulations, then. You've seen a rock before. The world's full of them."
Shivam gave her a look, steady, serious. "I'm not joking."
Her smile faltered, but she kept walking, fast enough that he had to quicken his pace to keep up. Students brushed past them, groups chattering, scooters honking outside the college gates, but between them there was only silence thick enough to press down.
By the time they reached the library steps, Shivam finally broke it. "At least let me help with those books before you dislocate a shoulder."
She hesitated, then relented, passing him half the load. Her fingers brushed his when she handed them over, cool and trembling slightly. "Thanks," she muttered.
"Don't mention it," he said, adjusting the stack against his arm. Then, after a beat, he added, "Though you could at least tell me why you're sketching things that look like they've been pulled out of a nightmare."
Bhumika's lips pressed tight. She didn't answer until they'd pushed open the heavy library doors and found the quieter café tucked into one corner, where most students came to half-study, half-waste time. The hum of voices and clatter of cups gave them a strange kind of cover.
Sliding into a seat near the back, she finally said, "You don't need to worry about it, Shivam. It's just drawings."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His voice was calm, but insistent. "You don't believe that. Otherwise, you wouldn't have snatched it like your life depended on hiding it."
She sighed, pressing her hands flat against the notebook in front of her. For the first time, she looked tired, not just late-night-study tired, but worn down, like something had been eating at her for weeks.
"Look," she said finally, her tone softer. "I didn't mean to snap. I'm just… not myself lately."
Shivam tilted his head. "I noticed."
That earned him a faint, bitter smile. "Yeah? What gave it away? The hair that looks like I got ready in two minutes, or the fact that I nearly dropped half my textbooks in front of half the college?"
He shook his head, leaning back. "No. The way you looked at that sketch. Like it scared you."
The smile vanished. She fiddled with the pen on the table, eyes darting to the side. "Maybe it did," she admitted quietly, almost lost under the noise of the café.
Shivam sat back, letting that settle. He didn't push further, not yet. But he knew something had cracked open, and whatever was behind it was more than just bad sleep or overwork.
The silence stretched, and for a moment, it felt like the two of them were sitting in a bubble apart from the rest of the world, her books piled between them, her guarded expression, his quiet insistence.
Finally, Bhumika broke it again. "I'll tell you later," she said, her voice steadier now, but her eyes still shadowed. "Just… not here."
Shivam nodded slowly, but his chest was still tight. Because he knew one thing for sure, whatever she had to say wasn't going to be small.
The corner table they'd claimed was quieter than most. A faint hum of the café's AC filled the background, muffled under the scrape of chairs and the hiss of the coffee machine. From here, they could see most of the library lounge, but the lounge couldn't quite see them, which was exactly what Bhumika wanted.
Shivam set her books down carefully, pushing the heavier ones toward her. "You know," he said, almost casually, "I don't think I've ever seen someone carry half the psychology section of the library in one trip."
Her lips twitched, but she didn't quite smile. "Occupational hazard. Some people collect sneakers. I collect unnecessary research."
"Right. Because 'Astral Planes' and 'Multiverse Theory' are casual bedtime reading." He leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You are prepping for an exam, or a cult initiation?"
That earned him a small chuckle, soft but real. She shook her head. "Neither. Just… curiosity."
"Curiosity that keeps you up at night?" he asked, tone lighter than the question really was.
Her fingers tapped against the rim of her coffee cup. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Not when something feels off," he replied, voice calm but steady.
Silence hung between them for a moment. The café's noise seemed to fade, just the occasional rattle of cups, the hum of conversation. Bhumika's eyes lingered on the stack of books before her, like she was calculating how much to say, how much to keep hidden.
Finally, she exhaled. "Alright. But don't laugh."
"I won't," Shivam said immediately.
She gave him a skeptical look. "People usually do when you tell them you've been… seeing things."
"Try me."
Her gaze dropped to her notebook. She turned it so the sketch of the crystals wasn't showing, just the blank back cover. Her voice was low, steady at first, but grew quieter as the words came.
"For weeks now, I've been having dreams. Not the normal kind. They're… vivid. Too vivid. I see places I've never been, tunnels, ruined buildings, sometimes a machine I can't quite make out. And always those crystals. Bright. Wrong. Like they're alive."
Shivam's jaw tightened, but he kept his face calm. He leaned in slightly, nodding for her to continue.
"Sometimes," she added, hesitating, "it's not just places. It's people. Shadows of people I know. You. Naina. Even saw a Princess once."
That hit him harder than he expected. His chest tightened, but he kept his voice even. "What do you mean shadows?"
"Like… outlines. Pieces. Not whole. It's like my brain's pulling your and their faces out of smoke but not finishing them." Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke, so she tucked them under the table, out of sight.
Shivam stayed quiet, letting her fill the silence.