Dev's P.O.V

The familiar sound of the car engine comes to a halt and I exchange a quick hug with my dad. "Good luck, Dev," he says, and I respond with a simple, heartfelt "Thanks."

 Stepping out into the embrace of the fresh morning air, the golden hues of the sun paint everything in a warm, comforting light. Today is special, and I can feel the excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside me. It's Raj, after all. He's worth every effort.

As I make my way through the almost-empty school corridor, the anticipation builds. I'm early, almost half an hour, and the solitude allows my thoughts to race ahead of me. The classroom door swings open under my gentle push, revealing an empty room. My eyes immediately seek out Raj's seat, the very seat we shared on that first day of school. I walk toward it, my heart pounding in rhythm with the excitement coursing through my veins.

"Should I do it?" I ponder, but then a resolute voice within me says, "Yes, I am doing it." I retrieve my sketch colors, each shade chosen with care. The vibrant palette stares back at me, I take a deep breath and start to draw on the bench, letting my heart guide my hand. It's time to paint our story, to infuse it with the vibrancy it deserves.

The orange colors flow smoothly, capturing the warmth of Raj's presence, the warmth that envelops us when we're together. I can almost feel the sun's embrace, just like Raj's hugs that light up even the darkest corners of my soul. As the green sweeps in, it mirrors the depth of his eyes, the kind that draws you in, making you lose yourself in a sea of emotions. 

With a delicate touch, I blend green into blue, mirroring the way our eyes meet and entwine A touch of pink appears, a reminder of the shared moments that added a blush to our cheeks.

As I step back to admire my creation where two hands meet among the kaleidoscope of colors. "Isn't our story colorful?" I whisper to the empty room, the echo of my words mingling with the hues on the bench. I lean in and paint words on that canvas of colors-

Can't we add more colors to us?

...

The brisk splash of water does little to quell the rapid thud of my heart. I'm excited, yes, but the nerves are riding shotgun. What if I've gone overboard? What if Raj finds it all too much, too overwhelming? The idea nags at me as I dry my hands, the thin paper towel crumbling under my anxious grip.

What if my attempt to mend things only ends up annoying Raj further? But this time, it's Raj, and the thought of annoying him, especially now when there's a wedge between us, sends a shiver down my spine.

The mirror reflects a face caught between excitement and trepidation. "Learn to take responsibility for your actions," my dad's voice resonates in my head. Yup Dev babu, you've caused all this mess, you have to clean it too! It's time to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

Walking out of the washroom, I draw a steadying breath. The corridor is now buzzing with the hum of students rushing to their classes. I weave through the crowd, my eyes fixed on the door of our classroom. A hush falls over the room as I step in. A few students stand near Raj's seat, their curious eyes fixed on the canvas of colors. Anxiety tightens its grip as I find my own seat.

Naman, one of the guys who had been eyeing Raj's seat. He calls out to me, and I turn to see him gesturing enthusiastically.

"Hey, Dev! Come here, look at this. I think some girl has confessed to Raj!" Naman's excitement is palpable, and I can't help but raise an eyebrow in feigned surprise.

"Really?" I respond, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart is still doing somersaults.

Vishal, another onlooker, chimes in, "Yeah, through some painting on his seat. Look!" He points towards Raj's desk, and I follow his gaze. My heart skips a beat as I see the dried colors and the words I've left behind.

Feigning shock, I get up and walk over to Raj's seat, trying to act as if I'm seeing it for the first time. "Wow," I exclaim, my voice pitched just right to match the faux surprise.

Naman starts bombarding me with questions. "Hey, Dev, who do you think she could be? Arya?"

Vishal adds, "But she isn't even here yet." Their speculation takes a humorous turn, and I decide to play along, "Exactly."

Just as Naman, Vishal, and I are about to drop the topic, the classroom door swings open, revealing Arush, backpack slung over one shoulder and a curious expression on his face.

"What's up, guys?" Arush asks, scanning the room and clearly sensing some unusual energy.

Naman, with a mischievous grin, declares, "Our prefect is getting love proposals!" The others in the room start to gather around, their eyes fixated on Raj's seat.

Arush's curiosity piqued, he joins the circle, his eyes widening in mock surprise. "Whoa, seriously? Love in the air?" He starts scanning the colorful canvas and joins the speculative banter. "Any guesses, Dev?" he asks, his tone filled with playful curiosity. 

I take a step back, trying to blend into the background as the attention shifts from the imaginary secret admirer to me. "Oh, you know, mysterious lover from another dimension, probably," I reply pointing to the class next to us, with a nervous chuckle, attempting to downplay the significance.

More students walk in, drawn by the commotion, and the discussion about Raj's supposed secret admirer gains momentum. Laughter echoes in the room as they throw around wild guesses and share exaggerated tales of love and mystery. I find myself gradually retreating from the center of attention, my anxiety growing with each passing moment.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the fluttering butterflies in my stomach. As the class settles, I glance toward the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Raj. The seconds tick by, each one stretching the anticipation a little more.

And then, like a fleeting moment in a dream, Raj walks in with Arya. I feign interest in my books, my fingers tracing the edges of the pages. As he passes by, I steal a quick glance, tilting my head just enough to catch his eye. Our gazes briefly lock, and in that moment, I see a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Raj stops near his seat, and for a heartbeat, I hold my breath, hoping for a sign that my gesture has touched him. But then, just as quickly, he turns to look at me, I turn my attention back to my books. My cheeks flush with a shade of red that mirrors my nervousness. My heart races, uncertain of how he received my attempt to bridge the gap.

When I steal another glance, my heart, which had been holding onto a fragile hope, shatters into a million pieces. Raj and Arya take the seat behind their usual one. The colorful canvas I had painted seems to blur, losing its vibrancy in an instant.

Suddenly, a group of guys surrounding Raj. Laughter cuts through the air, and the words they utter strike me like arrows.

"Dude, that's brutal," one of them remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're going to break the heart of whoever she is."

Raj's laughter, a forced melody, echoes through the classroom as his friends make light of the situation. "What if they don't mean it?" he says, trying to dismiss the comments with a casual wave. "What if it's just another one of their jokes? Don't take it seriously, dude, because I bet they don't either."

His words feel like daggers piercing through my heart.  I glance over, catching a glimpse of the strained smile he wears. The casual tone can't conceal the underlying tension.

As Aman settles into the seat beside me, his small, comforting smile meets my attempt at one.

I take a deep breath, the scent of uncertainty hanging in the air. What do you think, Dev? I scold myself internally. Months of wounds, the echoes of pushing Raj away, can they truly heal with this one seemingly naive painting? I chuckle at my own audacity, realizing I'm no Picasso, just a guy attempting to patch up the masterpiece of emotions that I've unintentionally torn apart.

My gaze flickers toward Aman, who seems engrossed in his own thoughts."Don't give up, Dev," I remind myself. You haven't even started yet. 

I let my mind drift back to those moments—Raj patiently waiting, a silent anchor in the storm of my emotions. His hand reaching out when I needed support the most.  I can almost feel the warmth of his embrace, the way he wrapped his arms around me when fear gripped my heart, his gentle kiss on my forehead like a tender promise that everything would be okay.

My heart aches with the weight of regret as I recall the times when Raj was there, unwavering and supportive. "Oh God," the regret palpable in my thoughts. How did I let such genuine love and care slip away? 

My internal lamentations are abruptly interrupted by Aman's inquisitive gaze. He raises an eyebrow, and I realize I've inadvertently let out an "Oh God" in the midst of my thoughts. Classic Dev, I chide myself.

Aman leans in, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "What happened?" he asks, his usual almost soundless voice carrying concern.

I quickly compose myself, wearing a casual grin. "Oh, you know," I reply, feigning nonchalance, "just realized I've got this impending botany assignment. The deadline is on Saturday, and here I am, still contemplating which plant to choose. Classic me, right?"

Aman's lips curve into a knowing smile. He's seen through my attempts at diversion before. But I press on. "I mean, it's not like I've had months to think about it. Nope, the grand decision-making process is happening now, in the eleventh hour."

"So," I nudge him back, trying to keep the banter alive, "what about you, Aman? Completed your report on the mystical life of plants already?"

His smile widens, and he raises an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh, absolutely," he responds with an air of exaggerated confidence. "I'm practically a botanist now. Just call me Professor Aman."

We share a laugh, and I nudge him, "Someone is getting funny now."

...

I throw my hands on the counter, urgency etching across my face as I blurt out, "Please tell me you have ice creams." Piya jumps a bit, her eyes widening at my sudden appearance.

"Oh hey, Dev," she says, catching her breath.

"You have ice cream, don't you?" I press again, and she responds with a tight-lipped smile. I sigh and turn away, my hopes momentarily dashed.

"We do," she says, laughing, and I spin back around to find her holding an ice cream cone, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. "Yes, yes, yes! This is exactly what I need," I practically scream, disregarding the possibility of attracting the entire canteen's attention.

"So, you're eating ice creams in winter?" Piya asks as she takes the money.

"It's not for me," I reply, grabbing the cone. "I just hope its owner accepts it." And Piya gives me a sad knowing smile.

With the ice cream cone in hand, I make my way towards the library. The soft hum of conversations and the distant shuffle of footsteps surround me as I navigate through the bustling canteen. Raj and Supriya are supposed to meet me there in 10 minutes for a project.

 I open the library door, the library, bathed in the soft hues of afternoon sunrays streaming through a large window, creates a serene atmosphere. Dust particles dance in the sunlight, giving the room a dreamlike atmosphere. The shelves are lined with books, some weathered with time, while some looks new ones. The occasional hushed whispers of students studying blend with the gentle creaking of wooden chairs.

Ajit is there, as always, perched at a table with his sketchpad.  I wave at him, and he waves back, a smile playing on his lips. I gesture towards another table, mouthing "assignment," and Ajit responds with an exaggerated yawn, mouthing "boring." I chuckle at his theatrics and take a seat at the opposite table near the window.

I reach into my bag, pulling out the ice cream cone and a note. As I start writing, memories flood my mind.

Remember when we first shared this ice cream, and I told you it had been forever since I felt genuinely happy? Well, Raj, it wasn't just the ice cream doing its magic; it was you. You were the reason of my newfound happiness, You returned my smile, Raj. Can you return the reason for my smile too?