Tags: Mild angst/Romance/College/Rejection/Humor/Fluff

Word Count: 6k words

"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt but what you taught us yesterday was slightly different from what you're teaching today." Amya objects, a pen spinning between her fingers and gaze concentrated on the whiteboard.

Her professor, though, doesn't look too happy on the interruption and raises an eyebrow.

"Is that so? Then what did I teach yesterday?" He challenges her, something that Amya is unable to back out from.

"You were teaching us about Morphology and the morphemes, not phonemes. I reckon you have the topics confused with each other." She tells him, as politely as she can, and from her periphery can see her bench mate shaking her head.

She sighs. It's not that she doesn't know how feared Professor Singh is amidst the students and how no one dares to correct him or talk back to him, but studying a different topic when he was discussing something else yesterday doesn't seem like a viable option to her, hence her objection.

But obviously, the infamous professor and his pride doesn't let him accept his mistake. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure we were discussing Phonetics and phonemes. Your classmates don't object. Do you, class?" he asks the students and is immediately greeted with a complete silence, neither a no nor a yes.

Amya rolls her eyes at her classmates' silence. Will they rather study the wrong topic than saying something to the professor? Guess they'll do.

However, she knows that she can't judge them on that. There was a time when she too wasn't very studious and only studied to pass the exams but the continuous turbulence in her twenty-one-year-old life gave her enough lessons to remember a lifetime. They made her weak but also strong, they made her uncertain but also sure, sure of her goal of studying and getting a scholarship to that one University in Europe that would ultimately fulfil her dreams.

She knows the path is harsh and long but not impossible. It never is. And so she has made it a point to be best in her class and preferably in her college, even if it may require correcting the dreaded Professor Sinha.

"See? No one objects." The professor exclaims, smirking. Amya doesn't think she can do anything anymore if the teacher isn't ready to accept his mistake and so sighing when Amya is just about to give in and say a drawled out 'ok', a student raises his hand, quickly finding her gaze, giving her a cocky grin and then turning to the professor who has his eyes slightly widened seeing who the student is.

It is the ever notorious, a backbencher, campus crush and of course, the Dean's son, Siddharth Chauhan.

"Yes, Siddharth?" The professor's voice is slightly hesitant but cold when he speaks to him and it also has an underlying tone of surprise, as if he wasn't expecting him to answer back. No one was if the slightly gaping mouths of the other students are anything to go by.

"Sir, Amya is right. You were telling us about morphemes and not about phonemes. The two are completely different subtopics of linguistics that can't be mixed up. Surprisingly, this was one of those rare topics that I made notes of." He smirks, raising his notebook in the air, an air of smugness surrounding him.

The professor flusters a little at his sincere answer, definitely not expecting it from a backbencher. He goes around the desks of other students, asking them for their notes and looking through them, himself.

It's in the last ten minutes of the class that the professor starts explaining to them about 'morphemes' and the linguist who coined the term.

Amya looks around to the last bench, just to find Siddharth dozing off on the last seat. The sight has her shaking her head with a hint of a smile on her lips.

*

It's lunchtime when he finds her, sitting at the corner staircase, munching on some unhealthy chips and reading through some research papers on her phone.

"Boo!" Amya lets out a squeak when a voice speaks directly into her ear, effectively scaring her. Keeping aside her phone, she turns around to glare at the person, her eyes narrowing.

Siddharth laughs. "What? It was a harmless joke, chill." He says and grins at her. Rolling her eyes she goes back to reading the academic paper before he interrupts her again.

"So, how does today sound for a date?" he asks, like he does almost every day, even after what had passed between them two years ago, a hopeful tone in his voice, and his expression opened up in innocence, but she still gives a shake of her head just like she does every day.

He pouts, the smile crawling away from his lips. "Oh come on, I defended you in the class today. I didn't even know the subject we were talking about but because of you, I had threatened that poor girl sitting beside me to let me have her notes and show them to Sinha. I even read about those phones and morphs."

The confession and the wrong enunciation of the terms, elicits a giggle out of her mouth, her hand quickly coming up to stifle them but to no avail.

Amya nods. "Yeah, that's true. You did help me a lot, thanks." She says, a genuine gratitude in her voice and sees as every hint of pretence vanishes from the boy's face, getting replaced by a sincere smile.

"Of course, I'll do anything for you. Just say the word." The seriousness with which Siddharth says that, has Amya swallowing thickly, quickly averting her gaze back to her phone. At times like these, she truly doesn't know how to respond to him, a person with a bad reputation but a good nature. Times like these and she's suddenly reminded of that quote, "Nothing can be more dangerous than a bad boy with a good heart."

Oh, so cliché but true nonetheless.

And so she merely ignores him.

She still remembers the beginning of all this - this thing going on between them. It had started two years ago, in the first week of college at the fresher's party. Till this day Amya doesn't know why but the most popular fresher had come to her, given her friendless self some company for the entirety of the party and at the end of it had asked her out on a date which she had politely, but immediately declined.

Amya had thought that that would be the end of it. Oh, how wrong she was because little did she know that it was just the beginning. Siddharth had asked her out again a week later, and then a week later and another week later.

She would've felt a bit uncomfortable if it wasn't for the fact that he always gave her the space she needed, always talked to her with that soft, soft voice, always looked at her with those genuine doe eyes and always left her quietly, whenever she rejected him. Not a single word of contempt, not a single hateful glance.

And that was not it, he helped her whenever she needed him, despite her not asking him for any help. Today was just one of those examples. If she's being honest, at the back of her mind, she too had this hope that he would get up and defend her in front of the professor. And that he had done.

Siddharth's good qualities weren't limited to his kindness alone. His face, too, was one of its kind. Handsome and pretty at the same time with a strong jaw and beautiful hazel eyes. His wavy hair that fluttered down his neck was one of the reasons he was so popular among the girls, not only from their department but from the whole campus - and still, he was here sitting beside her, getting rejected repeatedly. Amya sometimes hated herself for that, her heart protesting and convincing her to just give in once and see what it feels like to be on receiving end of someone's affection, but her mind knew better than getting involved with someone who'd prove to be nothing but a distraction to her goal. Her feelings be damned.

"I - I have to study," Amya states unable to hide the reluctance in her voice, not wanting him to go. She's unable to hide the gentleness that seeps into her voice not wanting to hurt her heart than it already is.

Siddharth, though, nods understandingly, like he always does but before he gets up, he places a book on her lap.

'Linguistics 101', the cover reads. It's the same book that she has been requesting the librarian to lend her but never got a hand on it.

"I borrowed it from the library but didn't understand anything. You'll do, though, won't you?" His action, his words, his small and sad smile - all have her eyes misting up a little and her head nodding into a yes.

Just when he turns around to go, her lips curve into a bright smile, quickly going through the long-awaited book.

*
"How does it not bother you? He's literally behind you 24/7. Isn't it creepy?" Her friend, Payal, one day asks, sitting in the corner of the library with Amya absorbed in the book in front of her.

The question has her frowning in a second. "Who are you talking about?" she asks, closing the book but not before placing the bookmark between the pages, her voice not more than a mumble

"Siddharth - I'm talking about him. Isn't he your stalker?" Payal asks, a sudden irritation taking over her voice, confusing Amya to no end. Because as far as she remembers, Payal was the one who had told her about his greatness, how sweet he was and how his handsome face never hindered his humility and so on, wasn't she?

Regardless, Amya decides to answer her present question with her true feelings. "No, I don't know where you picked that up from but he's not a stalker neither is he creepy. He's a good person like you had told me not too long ago, and respects me and my boundaries." Amya defends, and adds, "He's like a friend to me." The latter of the words though, force her to wonder. Of course, their arrangement or whatever is going on between them is weird, all with her persistent refusal and his persistent efforts and not something that friends would do but that's for her to know not others.

"Well, don't you think he's just playing with you? What if it's all about a bet."

Ah, the infamous bets among the college students.

Yes, Amya had thought about it long and hard, had even decided to ask him about
the fact face to face.

It was a Monday, and all the students were planning a mass bunk. She didn't have any problem with that as she was used to studying by herself but what bothered her was Siddharth's friends, the way they were laughing whilst looking at her and sometimes at the other students. Somewhere that action made her suspicious about what was going on, and that it must have something to do with her.

For the whole duration of the class, she sat silently but as soon as the bell rang, she decided to go to Siddharth and clarify everything with him. However, her introverted self didn't let her walk to him and his friends and then ask him to come out with her for a private conversation. No. That would be mortifying.

And so she just stood on her toes and peeked at his bench trying to locate his gaze, which surprisingly was already fixated on her. Her eyes widened slightly but she didn't let it deter her instead just gaped like a fish, opening and closing her mouth, not knowing what to mouth him or gesture to him.

But somehow he understood it, if him excusing himself from his group of friends, telling them to go without him and then walking to her, slowly with calculative steps, was anything to go by.

"Hi," Siddharth said excitedly.

"Hi," and so did Amya, though, less excitedly. And then she hesitated. "I - I wanted to talk to you about something." She said, tucking a tress behind her ear, not quite meeting hai gaze.

Siddharth grinned. "Are you finally going on a date with me?" he asked, but this time the words didn't sound like they usually did. Usually, they were sincere and genuine but today he was joking, joking about something that had been bothering her for so long and that angered her.

"No, I'm not going on a date with you. I'm never going on a date with you. Why don't you stop? Isn't it enough already? You've got your fun, your friends have got their fun, I know you might've lost the bet of getting a girl to agree to go on a date with you but still - isn't it enough? Can't you stop?"

It was, as if, all her frustration had seeped in her words, the whirlwind in her mind that was not only caused by his advances but also the parental pressure, pressure to achieve the highest grade in the class, the pressure to fulfil so many expectations.

"I'm so tired," she continued in a defeated voice, swallowing thickly. "Aren't you?"

She hated how weak she sounded, hated how she had to confront someone on something that she wasn't even sure was true. And still, what she wasn't expecting in return was an apology.

"I'm sorry," Siddharth's grin instantly vanished from his face and fingers nervously fiddled with each other. "I'm sorry." He said again, his downcast eyes not meeting hers.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, never. Neither was this a bet, none of it was. My friends don't even know about you or about me asking you out. I never told them because I thought you'd not like it." He swallowed, once again avoiding her gaze. "I - I like you. I've liked you since the first time I saw you in the class, and the first time when I talked to you at that party - I genuinely wanted to get to know you more, hence the dates I kept on asking you for. B-But I didn't know it was troubling you so much. I'm genuinely very sorry."

The guilt in his words and the pain in his eyes made Amya feel unsettled.

She suddenly didn't feel so good, didn't feel the relief in her heart that she was expecting to feel. Instead, she felt a dread settle inside her heart, the dread that the only person who was talking to her, who wanted to get to know more about her pitiful self would not talk to her ever again. That she's ruined the only good thing happening to her, broken the heart of the only person who hadn't wanted anything in return from her. Even her parents wanted her to get a scholarship after they had poured all their money out on her education which was understandable but this guy, he didn't want anything in return and she had just. . .

"You've - you haven't troubled me. I was just apprehensive that you're going to laugh about me with your friends and that it was all just about a bet. I - I assumed. I'm sorry." She mumbled lowly, her lips not permitting her to express the whole truth but only a part of it.

Siddharth shook his head vigorously. "No, please don't apologise. And I'd never do that to you. I wouldn't do that to anyone." He said and Amya released a huff of breath feeling guilty for assuming the worst about the first person who had, well, liked her.

"I'm in this college with a goal in my mind, with an expectation that my parents have of me. I don't need any distractions and even though you don't bother me like that, and help me unsaid, I'm afraid that the only person getting hurt here would be you. I'm not free to pursue a - a relationship." Amya disclosed half-heartedly, reminding him as well as herself to not cross any limits.

But as soon as she said that, a small smile slowly crawled back on Siddharth's mouth, his tense posture relaxing and eyes gaining back that ever-present shine.

"I don't want a relationship - I mean if that's what you want, I just want to get to know you, something like a friend? It's my bad that I didn't ask you before but can we at least be friends?" His soft voice barreled into her ears and his sincere request touched her heart so much that she couldn't bite back the smile that appeared on her lips when she shook her hands with him.

"Yeah, we can."

"So, just to be clear, will you stop being my friend if ever asked you on a date again?" There was a smile in his voice but also an underlying sigh that Amya was unable to miss, something that told her that this question was actually paining him.

She shook her head and saw as some of the sadness swam out of his face.

She decided it was her turn this time. "Just to be clear, will you stop being my friend if I refused you for a date?"

Any hint of wistfulness vanished away from his face at that, a bright smile taking its place.

He shook his head. "No, I'll never stop being your friend if that's what you want. Just say the word."

That was two years ago and they were still going strong on their promise. A promise that had nothing to do with the likes of Payal.

"No, he isn't playing me. He can play no one. He's not like that." Amya says, wanting to mum her friend, not willing to engage in such a fruitless discussion. (also, not wanting to hear anything bad about Siddharth anymore)

Her friend huffs, suddenly looking at her with the same narrowed eyes, a hint of envy on her face. "Well, don't come to me if he breaks your heart."

What?

Go to her? When has she ever?

Amya doesn't remember talking to her friends about anything at all, let alone her problems. She doesn't remember crying on their shoulders and doesn't remember laughing with them. The most she's talked to about her life in this college is ironically with Siddharth. So why would she go to Payal when Siddharth would supposedly break her heart?

"Don't worry. I'm not going to come to you."

Having had enough of the conversation, Amya decides to just go from the library, her concentration now fully broken and the book left unfinished.

This is why she doesn't interact with people, they distract her so much. If not now then when is she going to study and if not herself, then who's going to get the scholarship for her?

No one, she'll have to do it all herself.

*

A month passes on, bringing in the exam season, making the students pull up all-nighters almost every day, especially the ones who cared about their academics,

Amya was one of those students, however, in addition to exams a lot is going on in her mind currently; like the phone call she had with her parents last night; or the conversation she had with her friend a month ago.

Even though the call was not too intense and was only a reminder from her parents' side to study hard, it still settled deep into her brain, bringing her back on track while the conversation she had with Payal was something that felt even more personal to her.

A realisation that no one is her true friend here, no one wants any good for, except for Siddharth, maybe.

Flashback:

As soon as Amya walks out of the library to get away from the disturbance and study in silence, she remembers that she's left her pen on the table and even though she doesn't want to face her friend again, she still needs the pen. And so when she turns around to go back to her seat and claim her belonging, a silent conversation catches her ears making her halt her steps. She briefly wonders if she should just go and give Payal the privacy to talk but that resolve gets crumbled when she sees who actually is she conversing with.

Payal, the same girl who had been berating Siddharth not too long ago is now accomodating him on her table, laughing and chatting with him whilst he is busy scrolling through his phone.

When Amya takes another step towards them, she hears the one-sided conversation properly.

"Oh, come one Sid, we used to be such good friends. Please, you just have to pretend for one day." Payal whines, her feet touching his under the table.

"No, Payal. I'm not pretending to be your boyfriend in front of your ex. You have so many other friends, just ask them or something." He replies, taking back his feet, not bothering to look up from his phone. "And if you've called me here for that reason then I've to go."

Siddharth pushes his chair back and gets ready to stand when he's stopped by Payal's words, her face hardening.

"This is because of Amya, isn't it? You've to go to her, right? Someone who doesn't even bother about you and calls you her stalker."

A silent gasp leaves Amya's mouth as she hears her friend's words, a pang hitting her chest.

Siddharth's gaze immediately lands at Payal on those words, teeth-gritting.
"What goes between me and Amya is none of your concern, so stay out of it, get it?"

Payal rolls her eyes at that, narrowing them at him just like she had done with her not too long ago.

"Whatever, just don't come to me when she breaks your heart." She repeats, and Amya's breath hitches in her throat, a sense of déja vu passing through her.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to come to you."

*

Now Payal acting against her words hadn't come across as a big surprise to Amya as they both were barely friends and her sudden dislike towards Siddharth had also made her a bit suspicious, however, it is also true that her lie wasn't small enough to forgive and forget and It was not like she has asked for her forgiveness.

Amya also isn't able to forget how after that day, Siddharth had treated her just like every day, no question on his tongue and no doubt in his eyes. As usual, he had come to her during the break, talked with her for a few moments, asked her if she wants to go on a 'date' with him, this time to the new pizza joint that had opened at the corner of the street but Amya had given the same excuse of her pending assignments and he had taken leave thereafter making no change in their routine.

It irks her. Whatever he's doing. Whatever they are doing. She knows that it isn't a bet and he has no ill intentions towards her, whatsoever, but she also knows that this isn't possible, a future together, not until she gets a scholarship and admission in that one university for her master's that would make her dreams come true; would help her in aiding her family and give them the footing they had lost all those years ago.

It irks how persistent he is, how he hasn't left her side since he had asked her out for the first time. It also irks her how persistent she is, having him smile in front of her, only to reject him a minute later, something that she doesn't even want to do anymore.

And so, today Amya has decided to put a full stop to this arrangement for once and for all; so that she doesn't have to hate herself for taking that bright smile away from his face every day; so that girls like Payal can make him their pretend boyfriend or real boyfriend for that matters and treat him like he should; so that he doesn't have to waste his time on someone like her who has too many responsibilities to make time for something else.

Therefore, today, for the first time since they've talked, she has texted him to meet her outside the college, in a place he likes, where there would be no one to listen to their conversation, no one to spread any rumours. No one to question their intentions.

Although a guilt has been constantly eating her since she has seen his reply.

'It's a date'

No, it isn't. It is just a date that would mark an end to whatever they have between them for good.

But she still replies with a 'yes'.
*

Amya taps her fingers on the table, her gaze focused on the cup resting between her palm, the warmth seeping inside her skin but her heart feeling colder than it ever has.

"Boo!" A voice says in her ears, making some of the brown liquid spill on her hand from the cup. And when she hisses in pain, she realises it's not entirely physical.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" Siddharth rushes from her side to the counter, asking them for an icepack or some cubes of ice. He comes back with the cubes, takes out his handkerchief, puts the cube in it and presses her to her now red skin, taking a seat in front of her, stretching his hand across the table to hold hers.

His face crumples. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you or hurt you or ruin our first date like this." His voice seems shaken, something that breaks her heart more than ever.

Amya shakes her head. "I'm fine, you didn't hurt me. The coffee wasn't even that hot." She says but Siddharth still frets over her wound, continuously pressing the cold cloth on it.

"Siddharth," she tries to get his attention but he doesn't look at her. "Siddharth, please," she calls out one more time and this time he just exhaled out a sigh, his hand finally halting on hers.

"What?" he asks in a voice that doesn't belong to him; but to someone who's about to lose the only race he had decided to run in his life, lose the only asset he had treasured in his life.

"I - I want to talk to you about something," Amya says, swallowing the lump in her throat, her heart aching more than her burnt hand.

Siddharth though merely shakes his head, finally looking her in the eyes. She's left devastated to see the sadness swimming in them.

He shakes his head again. "Don't say it, don't say it just yet. Let me spend a day with you first, let me have the opportunity I was longing for so long, let me treat you like I've always wanted to. And then - then I'll do whatever you want me to do. You'll just have to say the word."

The crack in his voice brings tears to her eyes, her hand clenching between his, the throbbing in her heart growing to reach her chest.

He knows this isn't a date. He knows it is over for them after this and yet, yet he has come today, all for her, only for her.

Amya nods her head in a yes, and manages to give him a watery smile back just like the one he's giving to her. He then removes the cloth from her burnt hand, strokes his thumb lightly on the reddened skin, brings it up to her lips and kisses it better.

A sob threatens to spill out of her mouth at that action, that she stifles with her hand, her cheeks not even blushing or heartbeats skipping, because all that persists is that thorough aching in her chest, numbing all her emotions. She still manages to take a breath and give him a day of her life, a day that she would remember all her life.

*
They walk down the streets and he buys her a rose; they run across the park and he pushes her swing from the back; they come across a food joint and he wipes the sauce that stains her lips; they go into a shop and he buys her a plushie; they stand in front of a photo booth and he encircles his arm around her waist; they stop in front of her dorm and he takes his hands off her, standing so far away that Amya doesn't think she'll ever be able to reach to him again.

But his lips still curl upwards, giving her a sad and small like he always does when she's about to say a no to him. "Come on then, say whatever you want to. I promise that I'll respect it and - and wouldn't . . " Siddharth swallows. "Just say it, please."

Amya can't though. She's unable to utter a single word from her mouth. Too gone to give him a proper answer, too scared to break his heart and her heart in the process, too shaken to put an end to a relationship that never began.

A long overdue tear rolls down her cheek, making Siddharth take a step forward and then immediately backwards.

Amy hates that. She hates feeling so helpless, she hates making him feel helpless. She doesn't want that, she'd never want that.

"I. . ." She begins, inhaling a deep breath, clutching tightly at the phone in her hands, giving the breath of courage to herself. "Would you - would you wait for me?" she finally asks, eyes too scared to trace a possible rejection and heart beating too fast to say another word.

The silence after her question and before his answer is deafening. Something that she can't bear. But she has to and she does, silently praying all the while, praying that he wouldn't reject her like she did every time, praying that he would take her in with open arms like she couldn't, ever.

Her downcast gaze maps his movement as he takes a step forward. Her hand gets covered with goosebumps as he takes her hand in his and eyes finally stopping tearing up when he swipes his thumb under them.

"Always," he then says, quietly, as if he's afraid of breaking the moment, of breaking the magic transpiring between them. It is then when she dares to look up at him, surprised but not shocked to find the ever-present honesty adorning his eyes, his sad smile not so sad anymore.

"I'm ready to wait for you for a lifetime. Just say the word."

Amya finally smiles, her eyes smiling with her lips and heart smiling with her soul. Her whole being smiles.

"Three years, wait for me for three years, let me land my dream job, let me help my family, and then - then I'm all yours."

Her heart stutters in her chest when at the request, a teardrop falls from his eyes, head-nodding into a small yes.

*
Amya's eyes pool with tears and the exam results blur on her desktop but the way her parents are shrieking behind her, it's clear that she's got the scholarship, as well as the admission to her chosen university.

For the first time in so many years, she sees tears of happiness in her parent's eyes and she can't be any more happier.

*
Amya waits with bated breath as the interviewers discuss something among themselves. Instead of telling her to go and waiting to get the call like all other interviewees, she was told to just sit here. It's been five minutes since her interview got over and she's still sitting.

But it isn't like that she minds, doesn't when she feels that there's a chance for her to land this job; her dream job.

The interviewers suddenly clear their throats, gaining her attention instantly. One of them has his hand extended towards her.

"You can work with us starting from next week."

Amya squeals in the chair, eliciting an amused chuckle from both the interviewers.

*

Amya's palms sweat against her Kurti as she rubs them to and fro, looking at the huge building that is glaring back at her.
She gulps but makes the way inside nonetheless.

It has already been three years since the promise she had made to someone. Someone who had never contacted her till now, neither had she, well until now. And now too, she had barely managed to get her hands on the card of the company he worked in.

Worked and not owned.

The fact had shocked her as well, all with his father being the Dean and having an excellent financial holding - gathering from the facts she had only heard.

But she's no one to judge him. She'd be grateful if he merely recognises her because even if she never voiced it out loud, she's missed him terribly in the past three years and was so afraid that maybe his affinity towards her would have altered till now. She'd not be mad though, it was her who had told him to wait, it would be all her fault if she loses him.

Asking for the said person on the reception, Amya takes the stairs, not waiting for the lift to empty itself, too nervous to even stand remotely close to someone else.

When she reaches the appointed floor, she takes in a huge gulp of air, trying to calm down her racing heart, however, the sight in front of her only contributes to increasing it, all with Siddharth sitting right in front of her, only a table away, typing off on his laptop, a phone attached to his ear, short murmurs continuously leaving his mouth.

Amya does the first thing that comes to her mind - she hides.

She finds herself walking to the tea room where she isn't probably even allowed, if the 'Employees Only' board on the door is anything to go by but oh well, nervousness makes you do things that you normally wouldn't. As if on cue, the person standing in the room gives her a look, analysing her for a whole minute but thankfully not say anything and simply going out. Amya, though, is unable to heave a sigh of relief because the next thing she knows Siddharth is entering the room, his gaze fixed on his phone and steps quickly closing the distance between them.

It's truly inevitable when her mouth lets out a squeak, making Siddharth stop in his steps and looking towards her.

Her widened eyes trace his expression, morphing from shock to disbelief to a tender wariness but never coming on to a smile or something positive, which scares Amya a little. What if he has actually forgotten her? No, she wouldn't let that happen, not when she's finally found him, not when she's finally ready to give a piece of herself to someone else. And so she begins.

"Hi." Her voice is hesitant but it thankfully takes out Siddharth of his thoughts. He gapes.

"A-Amya?" he asks and she gives him a small smile, nodding and as if a switch had been pressed, his face completely changes from shock to elation, quickly closing the few steps between them but not enough to touch her.

"Are you back?" he asks suddenly and doesn't give her the time to reply before he continues. "Are the three years finally over?"

The incredulity in his voice and the hint of fear in his eyes, as if he's afraid to let her go again, makes her sad and happy at the same time.

Sad because she had made him suffer so much for her selfish reasons and ambition, and happy because he hadn't forgotten her. He had waited for her, just like he had said he would.

Amya nods vigorously, a teary smile taking its place on her lips. "Yeah," she croaks out, swallowing back the emotions readying to empty from her eyes. But no, she needs to say this, needs to before it's too late. "Yeah, the three years are over, I've achieved my dream and got a hold of my life. I don't have any expectations left to fulfil or duties to complete. I've achieved a part of me, and now, I'm - I'm ready to give a part to you, that is if you'll have m-"

Siddharth doesn't let her finish up her sentence, taking her into an immediate embrace, letting out a slightly choked voice that comes out muffled by her shoulder. He breathes in the crook of her neck and exhales over the shell of her ears that tickles not only her skin but her heart. She holds him back just as tightly.

"I'll always have you, always love you. Just say the word."