13

Tara, Aisha, and Aakash had arrived at the library together that afternoon. Aryan was already there, seated at a corner table with his laptop open. The moment Tara spotted him, a familiar tightness settled in her chest, but she kept her expression blank, refusing to let it show.

Aakash greeted Aryan casually, dropping into a seat across from him. Tara and Aisha took their spots beside each other. Without so much as a glance in Aryan's direction, Tara opened her laptop and started setting up her work.

The first hour passed without incident. Aakash was his usual lively self, cracking jokes with Aisha as they worked on the backend. Tara kept her head down, typing quietly, avoiding eye contact with Aryan. She felt his occasional glances but acted as though she didn't.

Eventually, Aakash checked his phone and sighed. "Guys, I need to head out. My brother's calling—something urgent. You'll manage without me, right?"

Aisha waved him off with a smile. "Yeah, we've got this."

Tara didn't look up.

Aakash packed his things and clapped Aryan on the back before leaving. His departure left a noticeable gap at the table—one less buffer between her and Aryan.

About thirty minutes later, Aisha's phone buzzed. She read the message and frowned. "Oh no... I forgot there's an emergency society meeting. I have to go—it's compulsory."

Tara's eyes finally lifted from her screen. "You have to go now?"

Aisha nodded, clearly reluctant. "I'll be quick. You'll be okay?"

Tara forced a small, tight smile. "Of course. Go."

Aisha hesitated but eventually left, glancing back once as if to check on her.

And then it was just the two of them.

Silence took over the table, heavier now. Tara kept her eyes glued to the screen, typing away, pretending everything was fine. Aryan stayed across from her, working on his part of the project, though she could feel his presence acutely—every breath, every slight shift in his chair.

Time dragged. The air was thick, filled with unsaid words.

At some point, Aryan stood up. Tara barely noticed, assuming he had gone to get water or stretch his legs. She remained focused, determined not to acknowledge his movements.

A few minutes later, he returned and quietly placed a paper cup in front of her. She blinked at it, confused.

"It's a white chocolate mocha," he said, his voice gentle. "From Starbucks... like you always liked."

Her fingers froze above her keyboard. Her heart lurched. She remembered. Of course, she remembered. That had been her go-to order. He used to pick it up for her during their late-night study sessions back when everything was simple—when she felt safe with him.

She inhaled slowly, willing her voice to stay steady. "You didn't need to."

"I know," he replied softly. "But I wanted to."

She didn't touch the cup, but she didn't push it away either. She simply went back to her work, though the familiar scent of the coffee lingered between them like a ghost of their past.

When they finally packed up their things, it was dark outside. Tara zipped her bag, and Aryan naturally fell into step beside her as they left the library. She hadn't invited him, but he walked with her anyway.

She didn't say a word. Her eyes stayed forward, her hands buried deep in her jacket pockets. The night air was cold, and the street was quiet.

As they made their way back to their flats, Aryan shifted his position slightly. Without a word, he guided her away from the edge of the sidewalk, placing himself between her and the road. He did it naturally, like it was second nature. He had always done that—small, protective gestures that once made her feel so deeply cared for.

She noticed. Of course, she noticed. But she said nothing.

The walk felt longer than it was. He tried once or twice to fill the silence, making small comments about the project, but she only nodded or hummed in response.

When they finally reached her building, she stopped by the entrance.

"Bye," she said quietly, her voice almost detached.

"Goodnight, Tara," Aryan replied, his tone soft—like there was more he wanted to say but didn't.

She turned and disappeared inside without looking back.

Aryan stood there for a few moments, staring at the door she had closed behind her. His jaw tightened. He wanted to hold on to hope, but every day, it felt like she was slipping further away.

He sighed, turned around, and made his way back to his own flat—alone.

~•~

That evening, they all gathered in Aakash and Aryan's flat for the movie night. The living room was crowded with bean bags and cushions scattered across the floor. Aisha and Aria had brought snacks, while Rohan was fiddling with the TV, trying to set up the movie. Tara sat beside Aisha, clutching a pillow to her chest, trying to blend into the background as much as possible. Aryan was sitting across the room, leaning against the couch, his eyes occasionally flickering toward her, though she did her best to pretend not to notice.

Finally, the movie started—a classic Hindi film, one that had been Tara and Aryan's favorite during their first year together. The familiar soundtrack began to play, and as soon as the opening scene unfolded, Tara's heart clenched.

"Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara."

She froze for a second, her smile faltering. This movie was more than just a film; it was intertwined with their memories—movie nights in his room, wrapped in blankets, sharing popcorn, his arm draped casually over her shoulders as they recited the dialogues together. She shifted in her seat, willing herself to stay composed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Aryan looking at her. Their eyes met—just briefly—but it was enough. He smiled, that gentle, familiar smile that used to make her feel like everything was okay. But not tonight. She quickly looked away, tightening her grip on the pillow, her heart racing.

The movie played on. Everyone laughed at the jokes, sang along to "Senorita," but for Tara, it was different. Every scene felt like a reminder. She was drowning in nostalgia, but she kept it hidden, her face neutral.

Senorita... that's what he called her. She looked away when the song played—she wasn't able to focus. Her eyes went on Aryan, who was already looking at her. She forced herself to look away.

Don't let him affect you, Tara, she thought.

At some point, Rohan tossed a large blanket over to their side, and Aisha pulled it over herself and Tara. The room was cold, and as they all adjusted, the blanket ended up covering Aryan as well—purely by chance, but it made Tara tense up. He was right beside her now, their arms lightly brushing under the shared warmth. She shifted slightly, but the blanket made it hard to create distance.

She felt his presence acutely—his warmth, his familiar scent. She hated how much she still noticed these things.

As the movie neared its emotional climax, someone passed around popcorn. Tara reached in, and at the exact same moment, Aryan did too. Their hands brushed—just the lightest touch—but it sent a jolt through her. She pulled back immediately, but she caught a small smile on Aryan's lips. Not cocky, not teasing—just... gentle.

She hated that it still made her chest tighten.

The movie ended with everyone feeling good, stretching and joking around. They all made their way to the lift area together. Tara hung back slightly.

"I need to go down," she said casually as they waited.

Aisha frowned. "Your studio's upstairs, no?"

Tara nodded. "Yeah, but I just need to grab some coffee. Gonna study a bit."

Aisha didn't question it further, and everyone waved her off as they went up.

Tara made her way to the campus Starbucks. The coffee shop was quiet at this hour, the barista preparing her drink slowly. She stared at her phone, trying not to overthink the evening, but her mind wouldn't stop replaying every glance, every brush of skin.

As she picked up her coffee and stepped out, she noticed a small group of guys lingering outside the building. They weren't doing anything, but the way they looked at her—too long, too curious—made her uneasy. She quickened her pace, her heart starting to race.

That's when she bumped into someone.

"Oh, sorry—" she started, but then she looked up.

Aryan.

Her breath hitched. He was holding a cold drink in his hand, wearing his usual sweatshirt and shorts, his hair slightly damp as if he'd just showered. She ignored him and stepped aside, eager to just get back to her room.

But he noticed. He saw the stiffness in her shoulders, the flicker of worry in her eyes. He sighed softly and fell into step beside her. He didn't say anything at first—he just walked with her, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets.

When they reached the student accommodation, she finally turned to him.

"Why are you here?" Her voice was low, defensive.

He shrugged, lifting his cup slightly. "Came to get a drink."

She narrowed her eyes. "Go, then."

He didn't move. Instead, he glanced back toward the path she had come from—the group of guys still loitering there, though now half-hidden by the shadows. His jaw tightened slightly.

"I will," he said quietly. "But I couldn't let you walk back alone. Not when I know you were scared."

She didn't respond. She didn't know how to.

Without another word, she turned toward the lift and pressed the button. As the doors began to close, she heard him, his voice soft:

"Goodnight, Star."

The nickname.

Her chest tightened as the doors shut. She leaned back against the elevator wall, closing her eyes for a moment. She felt everything—anger, confusion, longing.

She hated that he still made her feel this way.

💜