The next morning, everything felt too quiet.
The campus was buzzing like always—footsteps rushing down corridors, friends laughing loudly, and the occasional whistle from the football field. But for Aarohi, the world had shifted. It felt off-balance, like something was pressing down on her chest, and her lungs weren’t working the same.
She hadn’t slept much.
Every time she closed her eyes, his voice came back.
“Having you near me is more than enough.”
There had been something in the way he said it. Not anger. Not desperation. Just... a kind of stillness that scared her more than any outburst ever could.
She walked into class, arms wrapped around her books like a shield. Her eyes scanned the room, automatically landing on the second row, left side.
His seat was empty.
Agastya was always early. Always sitting in the same spot. Always waiting.
But today, he wasn’t there.
A part of her was relieved. Another part? Terrified.
Because silence from him didn’t mean peace.
It meant something was building.
Somewhere Else – At the Edge of Campus
Agastya sat in a locked storage room behind the old gymnasium, the door shut, the lights off. The only light came from a single, cracked window where sunlight poured in like dust.
His fists were bloodied.
The wall in front of him bore the marks of what he had done to it.
He didn’t feel the pain. He barely felt anything anymore.
His head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, breathing heavy and slow.
His body ached, but it was nothing compared to the ache inside his chest.
He had watched her cheer for someone else.
He had watched her smile.
And that smile had felt like betrayal.
Worse than a knife.
Worse than defeat.
Because when he looked at her, he didn’t just see a girl.
He saw everything he never had.
And watching her clap for Dhruv was like being ten years old again, sitting on the living room floor, waiting for a mother who never came back.
Flashback – A Rainy Night
It had been raining hard that night. He remembered it clearly. His father stood at the window, smoking a cigarette with shaking hands. The TV was off. The food was untouched. The door still open.
His mother had left. Just like that. No fight. No final goodbye.
A suitcase. A slammed door. Silence.
He was ten.
And already, he understood what it meant to be unwanted.
His father didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He just stood there, silent, like his heart had turned to stone.
He had sat on the floor for hours that night. No one came to check on him. No one asked if he was okay.
He learned to stop expecting comfort.
To stop expecting love.
To stop needing anything.
Until Aarohi.
She made him feel things he didn’t understand. Warmth. Hope. Fear.
And now? She was slipping away.
Back to Aarohi – Later That Day
Aarohi walked out of class quickly, head down. She hadn’t been able to focus on a single word the professor said. Her palms were sweaty, her mind spinning.
She kept thinking about last night.
About the look in Agastya’s eyes.
She turned the corner and froze.
He was there.
Standing against the railing outside the building, dressed in black, head down, thumb slowly tracing over the bandage on his hand.
Agastya.
She almost turned around.
eut h looked up.
Their eyes met.
And it was like time stopped.
She felt her feet move on their own, even though every part of her brain was telling her to run.
He didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t blink.
But something in his eyes had changed.
It wasn’t just anger or jealousy anymore.
It was sadness.
The kind that seeps into your bones.
She stopped a few feet away, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why aren’t you in class?”
“I couldn’t,” he said simply.
She nodded, unsure what to say.
“I saw you,” he added, voice flat. “Cheering for him.”
Her heart thudded.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said quickly. “It was the heat of the moment, Agastya. He scored. Everyone cheered.”
“You smiled,” he whispered.
The way he said it—soft, broken—it made her stomach twist.
“You smiled like he was the only person who mattered.”
She took a step back, needing space, needing air.
“You’re making this bigger than it is.”
He looked at her then—really looked—and she saw it. The storm behind his calm.
“I don’t know how to be okay when you’re not near me,” he said. “I don’t know how to turn this off.”
“Agastya, you need help. This... this isn’t love.”
“Then what is it?” he asked, stepping forward. “Because I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight when you’re not around. Every second you’re gone, it feels like someone’s tearing something out of me.”
She backed up again.
“You can’t force me to feel what you feel,” she said. “You can’t have my heart by threatening me.”
He paused.
And then, he smiled.
Not cruelly.
Not like a villain.
But like someone who had lost everything—and decided to stop pretending otherwise.
"You will see, whom you belong to soon".
And with that he walked off.
Later That Night – Aarohi’s Room
She sat on her bed, legs pulled to her chest, staring at her phone screen.
No messages.
No calls.
But the silence was worse than the noise.
She thought of the way he had looked at her.
The way his voice broke when he said her name.
The way his pain clung to him like a second skin.
And she realized something that made her blood run cold.
Agastya didn’t just love her.
He needed her.
In a way that wasn’t healthy. In a way that wasn’t safe.
And people who need you like that—they don’t walk away.
They cling.
They hold on, even when it hurts.
Even when it breaks you.
Even when it breaks them.
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