Aarav stared at her contact name for ten minutes.
Meera.
Just her name. No emoji. No last name. Nothing that suggested importance.
It should have been simple to ignore.
He placed his phone face down on the table.
Picked it up again.
Typed.
Deleted.
Typed again.
Finally, he sent one message.
Did you reach home safely?
He regretted it immediately.
Too concerned. Too obvious.
The reply came three minutes later.
Yes. Fever is better now.
You were worried.
He frowned at the screen.
No. Just asking.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
You don't just ask, Aarav.
You calculate before speaking.
He did not reply to that.
Instead, he changed the topic.
Library tomorrow?
This time her reply came faster.
Of course.
You'd miss your seat partner.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
The next day, she arrived before him.
That surprised him.
"You're late," she said casually.
"It's been two minutes."
"That counts."
He sat down, and something felt different.
Not awkward.
Not new.
Just… known.
They studied. Shared quiet comments. She pushed a chocolate toward him halfway through.
"For saving my pen yesterday," she said.
"That was three days ago."
"I remember."
He looked at her.
She remembered small things.
That was dangerous.
Later, as they packed up, she hesitated.
"Can I ask you something?"
He felt his guard rise instantly. "Depends."
"Why do you look like you're always preparing to leave?"
The question was soft.
But it landed heavy.
He held her gaze for a second, then looked away.
"I don't."
"You do," she said gently. "Like this is temporary."
Everything in him wanted to deny it.
Instead, he said nothing.
She nodded slowly, as if understanding his silence more than words.
"I'm not temporary," she said quietly.
He did not know why that sentence stayed with him the entire night.
Maybe because part of him already feared she would be.
And for the first time, Aarav was not sure he wanted to be the one who walked away. 💙