Disclaimer

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the popular show cook with comali 2. The description of incidents in this story is fictional and entirely unrelated to the persons after whom the characters are named. The story is only an imaginary plot with my take on ashaangi. This is not to hurt anyone or affect their personal space. This is purely a fictional plot that is not recommended to connect with real-life incidents.

I have not proofread pls bear with the mistakes here and there if any.

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Another day, another stolen glance at him. Ashwin. The name rolls off my tongue like a forbidden melody. He's like a black and white sketch in a world of vibrant colors. So focused, so...contained. I wonder what goes on in that head of his. Behind those glasses, there must be a universe of thoughts, of dreams. And here I am, a whirlwind of emotions, splattering colors on canvas, trying to capture the essence of a world that's constantly in motion. We exist in parallel worlds, Ashwin and I. Two sides of the same coin, perhaps, but different faces.

Why didn't I get the chance to meet him early in life? Idhu epovumey en mind la oditu irukura our thought. Maybe we did....who knows? 

I still remember the first time I saw him. It was August 2022. It was a casual morning, just a couple of days after moving to the new city for my higher studies. As I waited for a friend, I noticed this guy. He was tall, with a nice build, and his hair was long, wavy, perfectly maintained layers that almost touched his shoulder. He wore glasses. Our eyes met for a moment, a brief connection between strangers and that is where I believe everything began. It was a simple encounter, but only I know how many times I have replayed those fleeting seconds in my head.

New place. New people. It felt like it was a breath of fresh air. Moving out from what you know as home for all these years and all you see around are people, about whom you have no idea, was crazy. 

"Na lam rowdy teriyum la....yaru kuda venualum ukandhu nal poora pesuvom!"  some how this girl in me took a back seat that day. I was quietly observing everyone and everything around me. Quite hesitantly making friends and trying to be low-key. I'm sure I met all different kinds of people that day, talkative, introvert, extrovert, bossy, bitchy, the-cry-baby, name it and Im pretty sure I would have interacted with one that day. Around mid-day, I took a break from the hazzle and found a silent corner to make a call to my dad.

"Appa. Kekudha?"

"Haaaa kekudhu moley. How was your day?"

"Good" I said very unsure. "Nala poitu iruku pa. Certificate verifications all done. Went around the campus ipo should go back home. I mean room. flat. veedu." I was so confused and was not sure how to address the place I stay at now. It was a simple shared 2 bhk and I was still looking for a flatmate.

I could hear my dad giggle at the other end of the call. "Sirikadha pa! elamey pudusa iruku!"

"Idhu enna da rowdy ku vandha sodhana" he teased me.

"Paaaa!" I chidded.

"You will be fine, I know."

"Na thirumbi vetuku vandhurava?"

"Ila puriyala enaku!" He mimicked my brother and laughed again.

"Moluku enna prechana ipo? Its your dream. Go live it. You won't regret it. Nanga enga poga porom. Inga dhan irukom. Happya pasanga kuda fun panu enjoy panu. Ipo call cut panu un amma enna pazham pori sapda soli torture paniru iruka. You take care okay?!"

I smiled and nodded as if he could see me though the call.

"Okay kanna. Bye!" He ended the call. I felt heavy at heart but thrilled to know what the next 2 years had for me. 

"Neenga tamil ah?" A voice from behind made me look around if it was asked of me or someone else. I realised I was the only one there.

A very chirpy, young guy approached with a beaming smile on his face. With one glance one could say he is a social butterfly.

"Ama" I said very quietly. 

"Hi! en peru Rakshan! Na morning ungala patheyn nenaikureyn. Neengalum andha opposite flat la dhaney irukeenga? Ama ninga endha block?" He went on and on and on pulling a chair in front of me. 

"Irunga en friend kupdureyn. Avanum tamil dhan!" He said making a call paying no heed that I had not answered even one of his questions. Actually, he didn't let me!

"Dei enga da iruka? Canteen va!" He said and cut the call.

As he continued speaking with me a familiar figure approached up. The uninterested me suddenly lit up to see the guy who I saw in the morning standing behind Rakshan. Oru kutti butterfly and a curiosity sparked and all of a sudden I was very interested in the conversation. Rakshan introduced "Dho ivan dhan nga Ashwin, en friend. Romba pesa matan, silent ana paiyan." 

"Tch!" Ashwin chided Rakshan and said a meek-sounding hii to me. Some how at that point I just knew I was going to only grow more interest towards this silent man in front of me and I was pretty sure that he was not the silent guy like Rakshan said. 

Days turned into weeks, and life in the new city became a mix of excitement and nostalgia. Rakshan quickly became one of my closest friends, dragging me into conversations, study sessions, and even weekend plans. And Ashwin—well, he stayed the way he was: silent, reserved, but somehow always nearby, as if drawn into my orbit, or maybe I was pulled into his.

He was a mystery I couldn't shake off, and it seemed like he knew it, catching me sneaking glances when he thought I wouldn't notice. I'd watch him from across a crowded room, that familiar twinge of nervousness settling in whenever our eyes met. Each moment of accidental eye contact felt like a small spark, brief yet undeniably present.

One evening, Rakshan decided to drag Ashwin to an art gallery. It was almost comical, seeing Ashwin follow Rakshan's energetic strides through the bright, chaotic gallery space. I was already there, sitting on a low bench near a painting, absorbed in my own world of colors and shapes. I didn't realize they'd arrived until Rakshan's familiar voice filled the room.

"Hey! Look who's here already!" Rakshan beamed, waving at me. He dragged Ashwin over to where I sat, and we exchanged quiet greetings. While Rakshan wandered through the gallery like a whirlwind, commenting on every other painting, Ashwin and I found ourselves standing side by side in silence, taking in a painting of a stormy seascape.

"It's...chaotic," he finally said, his voice barely audible.

I glanced at him, surprised. It was the first time I'd heard him volunteer a thought.

"Yes," I agreed. "But sometimes, I think chaos is beautiful. It's real."

He looked at me, and in his gaze, I felt an understanding that went beyond words. A connection, quiet but undeniable, that was slowly threading itself between us.

After that evening, Ashwin and I began to share moments alone more often, lingering after group meet-ups or talking in hushed tones during study sessions. There was a comfort in his silence, a solace in his presence. He became my confidante, my quiet escape in a world that always seemed to move too fast. 

One rainy afternoon, we found ourselves caught in a downpour after classes. As we dashed under a tree for shelter, I laughed, watching the drops streaking down the lenses of his glasses, and without thinking, reached out to wipe them with the edge of my scarf. He looked at me, surprised, then held my hand there for a second longer than necessary.

"You know," he said, his voice barely audible over the patter of rain, "I've never met anyone who sees the world quite like you do."

I swallowed, caught off guard by his sincerity. "I don't know how else to see it."

He took off his glasses and looked at me, unguarded. "It's...refreshing."

As the months rolled on, I found myself more entrenched in the world of design, juggling my classes in retail design. My days were spent sketching layouts, brainstorming product placements, and analyzing customer behavior, things I loved but which sometimes left me mentally exhausted. Every so often, I'd meet up with Rakshan and Ashwin, both of whom had a whole other world of creativity as game designers. Their world fascinated me. I marveled at the characters they created, the landscapes they built, and the stories they spun within virtual worlds. It was an odd pairing—retail design and game design—but somehow, the three of us found ways to inspire each other.

One day, Rakshan burst into my workspace with his usual enthusiasm. "Sivaangi!" he exclaimed, waving a small stack of concept art sketches he'd just finished. He placed them on the table with a dramatic flair. "You have to see this! We're developing this whole universe around a mythical realm, and I think you'd love the designs."

He animatedly described the plot and characters, and I couldn't help but be drawn in. I was captivated, admiring the sketches of lush landscapes, intricate armor, and mysterious creatures. Then, I noticed a certain style in the shading, a touch of detail that felt familiar.

"Did Ashwin work on this?" I asked, pointing to a sketch of a quiet, forested glen.

Rakshan gave me a knowing grin. "Yup! He usually does all the stuff with forests and quiet places, of course," he laughed. "And you know he doesn't like to show his work much, but I'm sure he'd want you to see it. Maybe you're his muse," he added with a wink.

The thought made my cheeks heat up, and I tried to brush it off, but my mind wandered back to Ashwin and our quiet moments together. He'd never told me much about his work, but I could sense how much he poured himself into it. There was a thoughtfulness to his designs, a gentle beauty that seemed like an extension of him.

As I mulled over the sketches, Rakshan suddenly jumped up. "va va Come on, let's go. Ashwin poi pakalam avan studio la dhan irukan!" Before I could protest, he was already dragging me down the hall, babbling about how much I'd love seeing Ashwin's "work mode."

We arrived at their studio, a dimly lit room scattered with game models, computers, and sketches tacked onto every surface. Ashwin was there, focused on his screen, completely absorbed. I watched him quietly, noting the soft furrow in his brow, the way he pushed his glasses up his nose. Rakshan gave me a playful nudge and whispered, "Poi pesu. Go on, interrupt him. He'll forgive you."

I took a deep breath and approached Ashwin. "Hey, working on your mythical forest again?" I teased.

He looked up, clearly surprised but smiling. "Ah, Rakshan strikes again." He shot his friend a look, but Rakshan just chuckled, giving us a mock salute before he left us alone.

I noticed Ashwin's sketches on the screen—a serene, mist-covered forest with dappled sunlight filtering through. His world was different from mine, yet there was a simplicity and depth to it that resonated with me.

"This place you're creating—it's beautiful," I said softly.

Ashwin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It's where I go when the world's a bit too much," he admitted. "I guess I try to create places where people can escape, find something calm and comforting."

"I think you've succeeded," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

He met my gaze, and for a moment, we were caught in each other's world, as if we were the only two people in existence.

In the days that followed, we started sharing more about our lives, our dreams, and even our fears. I told Ashwin about my aspirations as a retail designer, about my passion for spaces that could tell stories. And he shared his journey into game design—how he'd been drawn to it from a young age, enchanted by the idea of building entire worlds from scratch.

College life buzzed with activities and events. Festivals, exhibitions, and workshops were constant, and somehow, Rakshan managed to get all of us involved in everything. Ashwin and I were thrown together into events we hadn't planned to attend, a gentle force from Rakshan that neither of us could resist.

One such event was a college showcase where students were encouraged to present their projects. I was busy setting up my design boards, proudly displaying the retail spaces I'd conceptualized, while Ashwin and Rakshan prepared a demo of their game project. Ashwin looked calm on the outside, but as he worked, I could see a subtle tremor in his hands, a look in his eyes that only someone close to him would notice.

After a while, I joined him at the booth. "Nervous?" I asked gently, touching his arm.

He glanced down at my hand, then nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Always," he admitted, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. "The crowds, the expectations... it all gets to me sometimes. I know it shouldn't, but..."

I reached for his hand, offering a comforting squeeze. "It's okay. Take it one step at a time. You know, you're creating something amazing here, something that can transport people into a whole new world. I wish you could see yourself the way I do."

A grateful, vulnerable look crossed his face, one that he usually tried to hide. "Thank you, Sivaangi. That... helps. More than you know."

As the event went on, I stayed nearby, and every time I noticed Ashwin tensing up, I'd give him an encouraging nod or a reassuring touch. By the end of the day, he was able to present his project with a confidence that surprised even him. We ended up laughing and celebrating together, with Rakshan loudly insisting that we all go out for ice cream. Ashwin hates icecream yet he joined.

Later that evening, as we walked back to campus, Ashwin fell into step beside me, quieter than usual. When we reached a small, quiet spot under a line of trees on campus, he stopped.

"Sivaangi," he began, his voice soft, "I don't think I've ever told you just how much your presence means to me. I struggle with this... with anxiety, with feeling like I'm never enough. And then you come along, and it's like the whole world slows down, like things make sense."

His honesty touched me, and I placed my hand over his. "You're not just enough; you're incredible. And the way you see the world, it's a gift." I hesitated, feeling the weight of my own words. "And besides... we're both dreamers, aren't we? Two sides of the same coin."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe that's why we understand each other so well. I don't have to pretend with you." He took a deep breath, as if finally letting down a wall. I don't know why he said that but I could sense a heaviness in those words. "I'm not great with people, and crowds... they get to me. My mind's always racing, overthinking everything. But when you're around, it's like I can actually breathe."

I smiled and squeezed his hand. "You're not alone. Everyone has things they wrestle with, their own battles. You're a remarkable person, Ashwin, and you don't have to change a thing."

As the semester wore on, our bond deepened. We spent countless hours talking about everything under the sun. Our conversations always were deep, thought-provoking and engaging. There was never a place for small talk. It ranges from dark jokes, satires, history, world politics,  life, parenting,  psychology, and what not. Sometimes we had completely different thoughts about things. Sometimes we agree to disagree. 

One night, as we were sitting in his apartment, Ashwin leaned back, his gaze distant. "Do you ever wonder why we're drawn to what we do?" he asked. "Why do you design spaces and I create worlds?"

"Maybe," I said, "it's because we're both trying to make the world a little more beautiful, each in our own way. I create spaces to make people feel at home and to give them a sense of belonging. And you—you give people an escape, a way to step into another life, even if just for a little while."

He looked at me, his expression softening. "You always see the best in people, don't you?"

I shrugged, smiling. "Maybe"

We laughed, but there was a truth there that neither of us could deny. Our worlds were different, yes, but together we'd built a space that was uniquely ours. And as I looked at Ashwin, I knew I was looking at someone I could spend a lifetime with, someone who understood the quiet beauty in life and cherished it just as much as I did.

I thought everything was unfolding on its own time graciously until Radhika came into the picture. 

In the days leading up to Radhika's visit, there was a palpable excitement in the air around campus. Ashwin seemed more preoccupied than usual, often checking his phone with a small smile and disappearing for short, hushed calls. I noticed it, of course, but I didn't ask him about it. After all, we'd spent countless days sharing our thoughts, our dreams, even our silences. It felt like we knew each other better than anyone else. So, I waited, thinking maybe he'd tell me what was going on when he was ready.

Then, I overheard him talking to Rakshan in the studio. They were discussing Radhika's visit.

"Radhika, da? You're still dating her?" Rakshan had asked in surprise.

Ashwin nodded, a soft smile appearing on his face. "Yeah, we're keeping things long-distance for now. She's coming to visit soon."

My heart stopped for a moment. Radhika. The name struck a chord I hadn't anticipated. We'd been close—so close that people often assumed we were together, and I didn't mind. Neither did he. I'd even started to believe that maybe we were slowly, quietly finding our way to each other. But there was someone else, someone he had never told me about.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. Why hadn't he mentioned her before? Maybe he has but never as his girlfriend. Why was I finding out through an overheard conversation?

I managed to keep myself together for the next few days, even though a million thoughts swirled through my mind. He'd unknowingly left so many signs for me to read—every time he smiled in my direction, the late-night talks, the way he'd look for me in a crowded room. I'd thought they meant something. How did I get this so wrong?

"Rakshan unaku teriyuma idhu pathi?"

"They were dating before we came here. She was our collegemate. I thought it ended there. Im sorry sivaangi our vagai la I got your hopes high. Im very sorry."

"Unakey terila idhu pathi. How is it your mistake? Paravala vidu"

"Do you want to talk to Ashwin about it?" Rakshan asked.

"Ila vendam. Enaku edhuvum pesa thonala. Elamey tappu ayidum. Maybe I have got this all wrong. Maybe it was just in my head. Maybe he just say me only as a friend and nothing more."

"Sivaang...sivaangi" Rakshan said and hugged me tight.

"Dont spiral in this. If you feel like talking about it just talk to him its okay and I'm right here to support you." 

"Vendam Rakshan. Im just gonna let this go. Idhu pesi scene create pana virumbala."

"Enna scene. Sivaangi the whole college see you both as a couple. The way you look at him. The way you guys talk. You have not got it wrong and its not just in your head. Apo pakura nanga lam ena loosa. Its clear sivaangi."

"Yeah but what if was just me the whole time creating this impression and he was just a genuine friend. Inga paru, lets not talk about this now. Let her come and let things be peaceful. I don't want to create any problems."

"Ena solra nii. How are you the problem? Inga enaku Ashwin mela dhan kovam. If he was still dating Radhika he should have told you about it. Ipo ava oorula irundhu varathuku munadi dhan unta solanum nu ila. If he is playing games I wont spare him Sivaangi!"

"Aio nii tension agadha. Rakshan, Ashwin was genuine to me. I never felt like he used me anywhere or played with my feelings. You know about him better. His private life is private life and he keeps it that way. So let him be, lets not think about this. Ava vandhu potum."

"Vandhuruviye udaney avana support pana! Enaku tension avudhu. By the way Radhika nii nenaikura mari ila. You will see it yourself." 

When the weekend arrived, so did Radhika. Ashwin introduced her to a small group of us, his arm around her shoulders as he smiled, completely at ease. But there was a moment when her gaze landed on me—a brief, sharp look that conveyed volumes.

"Nice to meet you," she said, her tone cold and unmistakably distant.

"Likewise," I replied, hiding the sting. She didn't bother to make much more of an effort, and when Ashwin was momentarily distracted, she turned to me with a tight smile.

"You're Sivaangi, right? The friend?"

The way she said friend sounded almost like an insult, and I felt my cheeks flush. "Yes," I answered simply, avoiding her gaze.

She nodded, her expression unreadable. "Ashwin's mentioned you a few times. But you seem... different than I expected."

Her words stung, laced with a meaning I couldn't ignore. It was clear she didn't think I belonged in Ashwin's life, at least not as close as I had been. I couldn't blame her for feeling territorial, but something about the way she looked at me, as though I were intruding, hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Over the weekend, I kept my distance, feeling painfully aware of how easily Ashwin seemed to shift back into Radhika's world. I watched from afar as he showed her around, smiled with her, and whispered things that only they understood. I hadn't realized until now just how much I'd grown used to having him by my side, sharing quiet moments and long conversations. With her around, I felt like an outsider, pushed to the edge of a friendship I'd thought was mine to treasure.

When Radhika left, the familiar ache settled deeper. Ashwin never once asked if something was wrong, never even seemed to notice how I'd quietly retreated from our usual closeness. For a few days, I kept hoping he'd bring it up, maybe even apologize for not telling me about her sooner. But he never did.

I had thought we shared everything. Yet somehow, this side of him—the part that was capable of hiding such an essential part of himself—was entirely foreign to me. I doubted if I knew him anymore. 

Radhika's visit left a lasting impression on me, and not in the way I'd hoped. From the moment she arrived, she avoided me, barely acknowledging my presence, as though I were invisible. Any attempt I made to converse with her was met with a dismissive smile or a flat, short response. But as much as it stung, I held my ground. I knew my worth and would never let myself be diminished by someone's insecurities.

It didn't take long to sense what was going on: Radhika saw me as a threat. Even though Ashwin and I shared a deep friendship, she clearly had her own ideas. She threw little jabs and acted possessive, clinging to him as if to mark her territory. And for Ashwin's sake, I kept silent, watching as he tried to bridge the gap between us, oblivious to the tension.

Despite her best efforts to mask it, I couldn't shake the sense that something was off in their relationship. Outwardly, they seemed fine, but there was an undercurrent of tension, things that went unsaid. I noticed how she unloaded her frustrations on him silently, often leaving him visibly drained. I could tell that being around her took a toll on him, amplifying his anxiety instead of calming it. Yet, he never said a word about it. I could only watch, helpless, as she pulled him into her storm, while he struggled to keep himself afloat.

For months, I held my tongue, battling an internal struggle. My feelings for Ashwin had become tangled with concern, and as much as I wanted to tell him, I couldn't bring myself to say it. What if my honesty cost us our friendship? What if it added to his anxiety? Only Rakshan knew what was going on in my head. 

A year passed, and in that time, I witnessed their relationship strain and stretch. Ashwin would try to get us together, insisting that Radhika and I just needed to talk and get to know each other. Each time, I knew it was doomed to fail. Radhika would go through the motions, flashing a polite smile, making sure Ashwin was watching, while I stayed polite but distant. I couldn't bring myself to fake friendship with someone who held such contempt for me, and she, for her part, seemed more than content to keep me at arm's length.

Then, one night, everything changed.

As the semester wound to a close, the campus had that familiar buzz, a mix of excitement and nostalgia that comes when people realize they're about to head in different directions. It was this feeling of change, of endings and beginnings, that finally gave me the courage to open up to Ashwin about Radhika. I had to tell him; what if there was no other chance?

It was late, and Ashwin and I were sitting outside on campus, sharing one of those quiet, midnight conversations that had become our tradition. The sky was clear, the stars bright, and the air was thick with unspoken words. For the longest time, we sat in silence, until finally, I felt something in me give way.

"Ashwin..." I hesitated, my voice barely a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you. About Radhika."

He looked at me, surprised, concern flashing in his eyes. "What's going on, Sivaangi? Are you okay?"

I took a shaky breath, feeling my hands tremble as I tried to gather my thoughts. I could feel my heart pounding, a mix of fear and relief at finally being ready to let this out. "I don't know how to say this, and it's not easy for me... I'm really scared of how this might sound." My voice wavered, but I pushed forward. "When Radhika visited last year... she was—she was rude to me. She avoided me, said things that... well, that hurt. I dint want to detail anything. And I didn't say anything then because I didn't want to cause any problems for you. But... Ashwin, she's... she's not kind to you either. I have observed a lot. Its probably not my business to talk about this but I feel she adds to your worries, your anxiety. I've seen how drained you are, and I just can't stay quiet anymore. It hurts Ashwin. I feel like I'm seeing a retelecast of my previous relationship."

My voice broke, and my hands started to shake. All of it—the hurt, the disappointment, the bottled-up feelings I'd buried over the past year—came rushing to the surface. I felt exposed, like I'd just cracked open a part of myself that I'd kept hidden for so long.

Ashwin was silent, his expression unreadable as he took in everything I'd said. For a moment, I worried that I'd gone too far, that I'd crossed a line. But then he leaned over and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a gentle hug. I felt him take a deep, shaky breath, and his hand softly rubbed my back, grounding me.

"Sivaangi," he murmured, his voice filled with concern. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I had no idea... I would never have wanted you to go through that alone." His voice softened. "You didn't deserve that."

I let myself relax in his embrace, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. "I didn't want to add to your worries, Ashwin. I didn't want to make things harder for you."

He pulled back, his hands resting on my shoulders as he looked me in the eyes. "You don't ever have to hide how you feel from me. You're... important to me, Sivaangi. And if Radhika ever made you feel this way, then that's something I need to know. Not just her but anyone for that matter." His gaze softened, and I could see the worry etched in his expression. "I just want you to be okay."

For the first time in a long while, I felt seen. It didn't matter that things had gone unspoken for so long; in that moment, with him there, I knew that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out all right for him.

After our late-night conversation, things between us fell into a calm silence. He hadn't said much, but his hug and the way he listened spoke volumes. It seemed that he was absorbing everything, perhaps making sense of things he'd been carrying himself.

Unbeknownst to me, Ashwin had been dealing with so much more than I realized. In his quiet way, he'd kept his struggles with anxiety and his emotional struggles in silence. Therapy sessions had become his anchor. It was as if he'd built an internal refuge, a place where he could try to mend and rebuild himself privately. But I hadn't known—he had never let on just how deeply he was struggling.

In the days following our conversation, I noticed subtle shifts in him. Though he still kept a lot to himself, he seemed lighter somehow, like he was allowing himself to breathe more deeply. We'd have occasional late-night talks again, sometimes in person, sometimes over texts. He didn't tell me everything he was going through, but there was a quiet openness in him that hadn't been there before.

One evening, as we sat outside on a quiet bench overlooking the campus gardens, he broke the silence.

"You know," he started, his voice low, "I've been... in a weird place for a while now." He looked at me, his face shadowed but earnest. "The things you said that night—they made me realize how much I've been ignoring myself. It was something I have felt for long but couldn't articulate it like you did that day."

I nodded, not wanting to interrupt but urging him to go on.

"With Radhika," he continued, "I thought I was being supportive, being what she needed. But somewhere along the line, I lost track of what I needed, too." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think she even realizes it, but every time I tried to tell her something about myself, it always seemed to turn back to her."

It hurt to see him like this, to know he'd been bottling up so much. "I'm sorry, Ashwin," I said softly. "I didn't want to make you feel worse about things. I just... I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I thought I would not be eligible to call myself your friend if I hadn't told you about it."

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "don't apologize. I'm glad you said something. Honestly, I had started therapy two weeks before the conversation."

I looked at him in surprise, feeling a mix of relief and admiration. "You've been going to therapy?"

He nodded. "I realized I needed help. My anxiety was getting worse, and it wasn't fair to keep leaning on everyone else without doing something about it myself. Therapy's... hard, but it's helping."

He glanced down, a hint of vulnerability flickering across his face. "I haven't told anyone, not even Radhika. I think... I think I just needed this for me."

In that moment, I felt a deep sense of respect for him—he was truly trying, not just to hold himself together but to become stronger on his own terms. I wanted to support him in any way I could, even if it meant just being there in silence.

We sat there for a while, watching the world around us grow quieter as the evening deepened. Finally, he turned to me and gave a faint smile.

"Thank you, Sivaangi. For ... everything."

I felt a warmth spread through me. Whatever path life took us on next, I knew we'd find our way through it, together or apart, carrying a piece of each other forward.

The six months after starting the graduation project felt like a whirlwind for both of us. Ashwin had returned to Chennai, taking on an ambitious self-sponsored project from home, while I was completing my graduation project in Bangalore. Though we messaged each other often, the long distance made me feel his absence deeply. I missed the late-night conversations, the easy camaraderie between him, Rakshan, and me. The three of us had been like a close-knit team, navigating college together. Now, though we shared updates on projects and life, there was a growing sense of nostalgia for the days we'd left behind.

For me, that longing was intertwined with something deeper. My feelings for Ashwin hadn't faded; they'd only grown stronger in his absence. But I kept my emotions bottled up, reasoning with myself that he and Radhika deserved a fair chance. I remembered the heartbreak of my past when a third person had disrupted my relationship. The pain was still raw, even after all this time, and I couldn't bring myself to repeat that history with Ashwin. If he was happy with Radhika, I would find peace in knowing he had found his way. And so, I focused on work, trying to build a life that felt whole without him.

Then, in December, something unexpected happened. Ashwin texted that he was coming to Bangalore to take care of some college work and that he wanted to catch up with Rakshan and me. Just seeing his message made my heart skip. Six months had felt like a lifetime, and despite my attempts to suppress them, my feelings resurfaced in full force. I couldn't deny it: I was excited to see him.

The day he arrived, we met at a cozy café near my workplace. It was just as I'd remembered him—the soft, thoughtful expression, the glasses that framed his eyes, and that calm presence that always made me feel at ease. Rakshan was with us, filling the space with his usual energy, cracking jokes and lightening the mood. We shared stories, laughed over college memories, and for a moment, it felt like we were back in time, free from the worries of the present.

But as the hours passed, I noticed something different in Ashwin's demeanor. He seemed more introspective, his gaze lingering on me a little longer than usual. When Rakshan excused himself to take a call, leaving us alone, I sensed there was something Ashwin wanted to say. The moment stretched, the air between us charged with anticipation.

"Sivaangi..." he began, his voice softer than usual. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

I met his gaze, my heart pounding. "What is it?"

He took a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts. "Radhika and I... we broke up."

The words took a moment to register. I felt a mix of relief, surprise, and something I couldn't quite name. "Oh... Ashwin, I'm... I'm so sorry." I managed, though I knew I didn't entirely feel that way.

He gave a slight nod. "It was a long time coming, I think. I thought I could make things work, but... it just wasn't right." He looked down, absently fidgeting with his coffee cup. "I realized I was losing myself, and staying in it... it just wasn't fair to either of us."

I stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt. I could see he needed to get this off his chest, and I was here to listen, to be there for him as I always had been.

"It's strange, though," he continued his voice barely above a whisper. "All those months, I kept feeling like... I had already let go of something without realizing it."

My heart thudded, the weight of his words settling over me. I didn't know where this conversation was going, but I could feel it pulling me closer to something I'd been afraid to hope for.

He looked up, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity I hadn't seen before. "Sivaangi, I think... I think I knew, deep down, how you felt about me. I don't know when I realized it, but... I felt it. And I think, in some way, I felt the same."

The world around us seemed to blur, his words sinking in slowly. I felt a mixture of vulnerability and relief as if a weight I'd carried for so long had finally lifted.

"Ashwin..." I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. "I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to come between you and Radhika. You were... you both deserved a chance to figure things out."

He nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "I know. And that's what makes this even more real for me. You've been there for me, Sivaangi, even when I didn't have the courage to admit things to myself."

I felt a warmth spread through me. "It was hard for me, Ashwin. I didn't want to let myself hope, but... I never wanted to lose you."

There was a silence as he took my hand, his touch gentle but steady. "You won't lose me. If anything, I think... I think we've both found something that's worth holding onto. Remember, Two sides of the same coin."

Rakshan saw us from afar and I believe he just stretched his call for a little longer, figuring out what was happening on the table. With a fleeting glance, he gave me a knowing smile from there.

As we sat there, fingers entwined, it felt like the world had quieted down, leaving just the two of us. We weren't in college anymore; life had changed, and so had we. But in that moment, all the unspoken feelings, the memories, and the hopes for the future came together, forming something we could finally share.

In the weeks following that heart-to-heart with Ashwin, life started feeling wonderfully surreal. Ashwin and I began exploring our newfound connection with quiet excitement, letting things unfold naturally. And Rakshan, our beloved third musketeer, was right there alongside us, ever the cheerful and loyal friend.

When we finally "Officially" shared the news with him over a video call, Rakshan's reaction was priceless. He squinted at us on his screen, leaning forward as if to confirm that we weren't pulling his leg.

"So... does this mean the Ashwin-Sivaangi drama has a happy ending?" he teased, grinning ear-to-ear. "Because I've been placing bets on you two since forever!"

We laughed, and he added with a sigh, "Finally! Now I can focus on my own love story without worrying about you two lovebirds."

"Oh? And what's this?" I leaned in, feigning interest. "Is our dear Rakshan hiding something from us?"

"Ama ninga rendu peru matum ivalo nal enaku tanni kamichinga la!" Rakshan sighed dramatically

Ashwin chuckled, clearly amused. "Come on, spill, Rakshan. Who's the lucky person?"

Rakshan's cheeks flushed as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, there's this girl I met at an indie game developer meet. She's... smart, a bit of a geek—okay, a major geek—and she's really into gaming design too." He grinned, eyes lighting up. "We've been talking a lot, and... I think she might be the one!"

Ashwin and I exchanged delighted looks, and I couldn't resist teasing, "Look at you, Rakshan! Who would've thought?"

The truth was, we couldn't have been happier for him. Rakshan had always been our anchor, our lighthearted, supportive friend, and seeing him find his own happiness felt like the perfect way for our little trio's story to continue.

Before the call ended, Rakshan made us promise one thing: "Wherever we are in life, you both better invite me to any major event, okay? Engagement, wedding, anniversary—I'm going to be the main guy with the microphone and questionable dance moves."

With heartfelt laughter, we agreed, knowing that, no matter where life took us, Rakshan would always be part of the family we'd found in each other. And just like that, the three of us—Ashwin, Rakshan, and I—knew we'd written a beautiful chapter together, one that would keep unfolding as we chased our dreams, together and apart, always bonded by the memories and the love that had made us who we were.

*****


How did you like it? One shot after a long time.

https://youtu.be/VVoO9cdk5Eo