Arya P.O.V.

The rhythmic hum of the car engine is the only sound in the air as I sit here, staring out the window. Raj's absence from me is kind of bothersome. He's crashing at Dev's place tonight, leaving me alone in the car with Mr. Mehra, our awkward chaperone for the evening. 

I can feel his eyes on me, the weight of unspoken questions hanging in the air. Finally, he clears his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. I turn to face him, my expression guarded.

"So, Dev and Raj back on good terms?" His attempt at small talk carries a formal smile, but his discomfort is palpable. I muster a smile in return, a facade to conceal the turbulence within. 

"Seems so," I reply, keeping it short and vague.

He persists, perhaps to bridge this awkward bond. "And how's studies going?" His tone is light, but I sense an underlying concern. I shrug nonchalantly, a bitter chuckle escaping me. "Just going on, probably reach somewhere someday." I try to inject a hint of humor, but it falls flat.

An awkward silence settles in the car once more, the tension thickening with each passing moment. The car comes to a halt in front of the school, and I open the door. Before grabbing Raj's backpack from the back seat and stepping out, Mr. Mehra finally sighs, breaking the persistent silence.

"You know, we're here as your family. You can tell us anything that's on your mind. You know that, don't you?" His words hang in the air, filled with a genuine concern that cuts through the awkwardness.

I simply nod, a silent acknowledgment, offer a formal smile, and close the door. Dragging Raj's backpack in my hands, I make my way inside. It's heavier than I expected, and I attempt to shift it to my other hand, attempting to balance the load. In this juggling act, my phone decides to play its part in an already messed up situation and slips from my grasp.

 I bend down to retrieve it, muttering a frustrated "Fuck" under my breath. As I rise, my head collides with someone, sending both of us sprawling to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I mutter under my breath, a reflexive apology.

As I stand up, trying to shake off the embarrassment of the collision, I notice Asim on the ground, and his friend Shabd standing nearby, laughing at his misfortune. 

"Will you shut that gutter?" Asim says shaking his head and Shabd extends a hand to help Asim up, their camaraderie evident in the shared laughter.

As I straighten my clothes, our eyes finally meet. A jolt runs through me as if an electric current has surged, and my heart sinks in the pit of my stomach. 

Almost as a whisper, he asks, "You okay?" Bending down, he effortlessly retrieves my phone and Raj's backpack. I nod, a mix of emotions swirling within me. Taking the items, our fingers brush for the briefest of moments. It's a fleeting touch, yet it resonates deeply within me, his familiar gaze, now fixed on me, carries a depth that sends shivers down my spine.

As I take the belongings from Asim, a silent exchange lingers between us. It's as if he wants to say something, the words hovering on the edge of his lips, but he stops himself. I meet his gaze, offering a subtle nod, understanding that some things are better left unsaid.

Turning away, I walk in the opposite direction, leaving behind the brief collision of our worlds. What is there to talk about, anyway? We were merely participants in that play, playing our roles side by side. But now the drama has ended, the curtain drawn, and our paths diverge.

We were never more than fleeting characters in each other's stories. We couldn't transcend the boundaries of acquaintanceship, let alone become friends. That's what we were for each other—a mere 'were' that could have become 'are' but couldn't.

...

Dev's P.O.V.

Ten hours and 30 minutes into our little reunion, yup that's only how much time it takes me to feel like the happiest person on this planet.

It feels like a lifetime in the best way possible, as if every moment has been carefully woven together to create this tapestry of togetherness. Sleeping side by side, sharing stolen glances and gentle touches—life is a lot more colorful with Raj by my side.

This morning brought a hilarious surprise when Mom barged into my room, catching us in the act of morning cuddles. To my amazement, she didn't freak out or anything but surely looked a bit uncomfortable. Maybe now she'd think about giving me a bit of privacy.

Raj was sporting my shirt, a shorter and tighter version that somehow managed to look just right on him. Breakfast, Hand in hand, we navigated the table, savoring the food. Even in the car, Dad's amused glances in the rearview mirror only fueled our smiles. We are an inseparable duo, and the world seems to acknowledge that.

As we stroll down the school hallways, I can't help but notice Raj's attempt to adjust the shirt that clings to his shoulders a bit too snugly. "Your backpack?" I inquire, feeling the familiar comfort of his hand in mine.

"Arya's got it covered," Raj replies, a hint of mischief in his eyes. He wrestles with the shirt, clearly tight around the shoulders. I can't resist teasing him, "Already wearing yesterday's jeans, why not go all the way and recycle the shirt too, richy rich Raj?" The banter flows effortlessly, a testament to the easy rhythm that defines our relationship.

Raj chuckles, the sound playful. "Well, you know, recycling is good for the environment, right? But, I wanted to carry a piece of you with me all day," he says, giving me a sly wink

I let out a mock gasp, cringing theatrically. "Yuck," I say, but my laughter mingles with his, and I can feel the warmth of a blush spreading across my cheeks. 

As we walk towards the classroom, my eyes catch Aman entering, and a sudden realization hits me. I can't just abandon Aman's friendship now that I've got Raj; that would be a pretty lousy move. Aman has started opening up, participating in conversations, and making new friends through our project. Back when I was a loner in school, Aman was there, a constant companion, and now we're like best friends.

"You okay?" Raj asks, noticing my sudden pause. I stop walking and turn to Raj, "Would it be okay if I sit with Aman?"

Raj's reaction catches me off guard for a moment. His eyes widen, and I brace myself, wondering if I've just dropped a bomb on our happy morning stroll. But then, like the sun breaking through the clouds, his warm smile lights up his face, putting my worries to rest.

"Of course, it's okay," he says, that gentle confidence in his voice making my heart do a little happy dance. I can't help but express my surprise, my eyes probably widening more than his did. "Really?" I ask, and his smile widens as he steps closer.

Raj's hand reaches up, playfully ruffling my hair. "Yup, it's not a soap opera, Dev. I won't give dramatic looks about you having your life, your friends," he reassures me, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

His hand then finds its way to my shoulder, cupping the back of my neck. The warmth of his fingers against my skin is comforting, and I can't help but lean into the touch. "Yup, it's not a soap opera, Dev," he repeats, his tone light but sincere, "I won't give dramatic looks about you having your life, your friends."

Raj chuckles, his playful demeanor intact, "Dev, whatever it is between me and Aman, it's between us. He's always been nothing but nice to you, and he's your best friend," he says, his fingers now on my cheek, cupping my face. 

His eyes sparkle with mischief as he continues, "It would really suck if you left him for someone as hot as me," his tone teasing, yet his smile warms my heart.

Of course, he understands, he always does.

As we step into the classroom, Raj finally releases my hand, but not before giving it a final reassuring squeeze. His warm touch lingers even as we part, and I can't help but savor the connection. Just as I'm about to settle into my seat, Raj leans in so close, a breath away, almost teasing with the possibility of a kiss. His whispered words, "study hard," hang in the air, and for a second, my breath gets caught in my throat.

As Raj pulls away, creating a brief but charged distance between us, his eyes meet Aman's for a few seconds before he leaves for his seat.

I manage to break away from the intensity, sliding into the seat beside Aman. "Hey," I greet him, unzipping my backpack. Aman responds with a slow confused nod.

Turning back, I notice Raj taking his seat, right where I had painted that message yesterday. Our eyes meet and Raj gives me an impressed smile, and I respond with a shy one.

"So you and Raj are good now?" Aman's voice breaks the comfortable silence, and I turn to him with a smile, nodding in affirmation. Yes, after what feels like ages, Raj and I are good again. We can talk freely, and hold hands just like before, and it's a relief to have that comfort, my comfort- Raj back.

But as I glance at Aman, expecting a shared moment of joy, his expression is far from smiling. It's blank, and his response is silence. I feel a twinge of concern creeping in.

"You okay?" I ask gently, placing my hand on Aman's shoulder. He sighs and nods, diverting his attention back to his textbook.

I wonder what's wrong, but a piece of me tells me not to press on. I leave it at that, hoping he knows I'm here whenever he needs to share something.

...

"Your vocals sound professional already," Nitin comments as I hit the last notes. "You're a natural."

Little does Nitin know, it's been months of practicing vocals, sacrificing study sessions and other activities. The passion for music has kept me going, even when it meant neglecting other responsibilities. Deep down, I know I'm far from being a professional, but at least it's bearable.

"If by being professional you mean being like you, then I'm still years behind," I respond modestly, acknowledging the gap between where I am and the level of professionalism Nitin implies. "But thanks anyway," I add with a grin, appreciating the encouragement and recognition of my efforts.

Nitin, visibly pleased, gets up from his seat, a warm smile on his face. "No, Dev, your singing is really impressive. Keep it up," he says, giving me a friendly pat on the back. "See you in the next lesson."

As Nitin heads out of the room, I watch him go with a nod of gratitude. "Thanks. See you," I reply, appreciating the positive feedback.

With Nitin gone, I gather my belongings and put the guitar back in its designated spot. The melodies still linger in the air, resonating with the music room's essence. I close the window, shutting out the ambient sounds from the hallway, and then gently close the classroom door.

Hey, partner," I hear a gentle voice from behind, and I instantly recognize who it is. I turn to see Raj leaning against the hallway pillar, a welcoming smile on his face, bathed in the warm embrace of the winter sun. The sunlight cherishes his skin, casting a golden glow that highlights his features. The wind plays with his hair, strands dancing in the air before delicately landing on his forehead.

"Hello, partner," I greet him, returning the smile.

"I thought I should remind you about the botany assignment in case you're forgetting," Raj says, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh, with a partner like you in the project, how could I forget?" I step closer to him, closing the distance.

"Is that so?" Raj runs his fingers along my cheek, and I feel a subtle warmth spreading. Leaning in, our noses almost touch.

"Yup, I kind of like this partner of mine," I confess, moving my lips so close to his in an almost-kiss. But before Raj can close the gap, I turn away, teasing him, "We're getting late, aren't we?" 

As I start walking down the empty hallway, the soft echo of our footsteps resonates in the quiet. Raj catches up with fast steps, his voice breaking through the serene atmosphere, "Did you just say you like me?" My heart skips a beat, and I feel a rush of blood warming my cheeks.

Increasing my speed, I look straight ahead, my nerves dancing in anticipation. "I said I like my assignment partner, get over yourself, Mr. Mehra," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but the hint of a smile plays on my lips.

The sunlight streams through the windows, casting a warm glow on the corridor floor.

"So, tell me more about this assignment partner of yours," Raj nudges me with his elbow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Is he as good-looking as me?"

I can't help but chuckle at his question. Raj always knows how to keep things light, adding a dash of humor to our conversations. "Well, I don't know, Mr. Mehra. Good looks are subjective, you know," I reply, feigning a thoughtful expression.

"Oh, come on, Dev. Don't be so diplomatic. Is he as charming?" Raj smirks, his confidence radiating like a magnetic force.

I play along, enjoying the banter. "Hmm, let me think. Is he charming? Well, he does have this irresistible smile," I say, glancing sideways at Raj, who grins in response.

"And what about his eyes? Are they captivating?" Raj continues, his tone a delightful mix of curiosity and flirtation.

I raise an eyebrow, pretending to assess the imaginary partner's qualities. "His eyes? They're not bad, but I'd say they have certain sparkle in them, you know." I give Raj a smile and he chuckles, clearly pleased with my response.

As I push the library door open, a familiar scene unfolds before me. Supriya and Aman, sitting across from each other at the same table. Aman, absorbed in his book, and Supriya, casually scrolling through her phone.

I approach the table, my footsteps quiet against the library's hushed ambiance. Gently tapping on Aman's shoulder, he looks up, and a warm smile graces his lips.

"Hey, where's your project group?" I inquire, genuinely curious about Aman's work.

Aman glances at me and replies in his characteristic few words, "It's completed."

"Woah, already?" I ask, surprised. Just as I start to express my approval, Aman's gaze shifts, and his smile fades, seeing Raj standing behind me. The tension becomes palpable, a sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Swiftly changing the subject, I divert my attention. "Oh, speaking of groups, where's Ajit?" I ask, trying to ease the tension that has subtly settled between us.

Aman, ever nonchalant, shrugs in response. "Who knows? He does his own thing."

"Should we start now?" Supriya's voice cuts through the air, the lack of interest evident. A subtle pause follows as Raj and I exchange glances before settling down to dive into our project.

I retrieve the notes they compiled yesterday, scanning through the details to catch up on the progress. As I immerse myself in the task, Raj begins explaining, his voice taking on a gentle yet serious tone. I turn my attention towards him, captivated by the confidence and depth in his words.

They've chosen to focus on Nepenthes for our project, and Raj delves into the intricacies with passion. His voice carries the weight of someone who has thoroughly researched the subject, each word carefully chosen. I watch as he gestures with his hands, emphasizing certain points. There's a grace in his movements, a fluidity that draws me in.

As Raj continues to explain, I find myself stealing glances, admiring how he articulates the complexities of it. His confidence is magnetic, and in this moment, I can't help but feel a surge of affection. The urge to kiss him becomes almost overwhelming as I listen to the melody of his voice, delivering information with a charm that transcends the mundane.

Suddenly, my phone rings. Excusing myself from our project discussion, I reach into my pocket to retrieve my ringing phone. Ajit's name flashes on the screen, prompting me to answer immediately.

"Hey, where are you?" I ask as I pick up, expecting a casual check-in or maybe a humorous comment about something trivial. However, what follows is a heavy silence, an unusual stillness that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Ajit? You there?" I press, my concern growing as the silence persists. Then, unexpectedly, a soft sob escapes from the other side of the call, catching me off guard.

"Ajit, you okay?" I inquire, my voice filled with genuine worry. Sensing something isn't right, I rise from my seat, my attention fully focused on the phone call.

The sound of Ajit's sobbing reaches me through the device, a heart-wrenching melody that leaves me feeling helpless.