19

The next morning, Tara stepped out of her studio, locking her door carefully. Just as she was about to turn towards the elevator, she heard another door click open. She already knew whose it was, but she didn't want to look.

"Good morning, Star," Aryan's voice came, smooth and warm.

She glanced at him briefly, keeping her expression neutral. "Good morning," she muttered, pushing the key into her bag.

She started walking towards the elevator when she heard him again.

"Are you going for class?" he asked casually, leaning against his doorframe.

She gave a small nod, not slowing down.

"I'm going there too. I'll come with you," he said, locking his door and falling into step beside her.

She didn't say anything. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside. Silence lingered, but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable. It was that kind of silence that held too much history—too many words left unsaid.

As the elevator started moving, Aryan took a small step closer. He looked at her with a soft smile, his voice low and sincere. "Thank you for yesterday, Star."

She kept her eyes forward, trying not to react, but her chest tightened a little. "Hmm."

A pause.

"Did you take your medicine?" she asked quietly, without looking at him.

His smile widened, as if he had been hoping she would ask. "I did." He reached into his pant pocket and pulled out the strip of medicine, showing it to her. "See? I'm all set, Doctor Star."

She stole a glance at him, her face still straight, but her heart betrayed her—it softened for just a second. She quickly looked away again.

They stepped out of the elevator and began walking towards campus. The weather was crisp, a gentle breeze brushing against them. They walked side by side, but there was barely any conversation. It wasn't like before when words had come so easily. Now, every step felt careful—as though either of them might step on something fragile.

When they finally reached the entrance to their lecture hall, she slowed down, turning slightly towards him. "Wait," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Bol," he asked, curious.

She shifted on her feet, not meeting his eyes. "I can't enter class with you."

He tilted his head, frowning slightly. "Kaay zhala? Kaay farak padto?" (What happened? What difference does it make?)

She exhaled sharply. "You know why, Aryan. Go inside," she said, her voice firm.

He watched her for a moment, then his lips curved into that familiar playful smirk—the one she used to both love and hate. "Uff... I missed you bossing me around like this."

She glared at him, "Go in."

He winked lightly. "Jaasa aadesh, madam." (As you say, ma'am.)

He turned and walked into class, leaving her standing there, her heart racing—frustrated at him, frustrated at herself, but most of all, frustrated at the way he still made her feel.

The class was buzzing with energy as everyone sat in their groups, ready to present their assignment work. Tara was seated with Aisha, Aria, Aryan, and a few others, their laptops open and final notes in hand. It was finally their turn to present. Tara felt that familiar knot in her stomach—the one that always crept up right before she had to speak in front of people. She hated this part.

As she and Aryan, along with Aisha and Aakash, stood up and walked towards the front of the room, her palms began to sweat. She adjusted her papers, trying to steady her breathing. Just then, she felt a gentle pat on her back, subtle, so no one would notice. She turned her head slightly and saw Aryan standing beside her, his hand briefly resting on her back for reassurance.

"Kaahi honaar nahi," he whispered softly, his voice low and calming. (Nothing will happen.)

She blinked, surprised, but she didn't say anything. She just gave a small, almost unnoticeable nod, and faced forward.

They started their presentation. Tara introduced their project—a website they had built for their assignment. She explained the structure and functionality, her voice steady but slightly tight with nerves. Aisha and Aakash took over smoothly, walking through the backend and development process.

Everything was going well until Aryan reached his part about a more technical aspect of their code. He paused briefly, his eyes scanning the slides. He had prepared this, but after falling sick, he hadn't been able to go over his notes as much as he wanted. His voice faltered slightly—just for a second. He stammered on a line, and Tara instantly noticed. Her eyes darted to him, understanding immediately.

Without missing a beat, she stepped in, smoothly picking up from where he had paused. She continued explaining the section he had been covering, as though it had been part of their plan all along. Aryan glanced at her, grateful, but he stayed quiet and let her carry it. Together, they wrapped up the presentation seamlessly.

When they finished, the classroom erupted into applause. Their classmates clapped enthusiastically, clearly impressed by their work.

The professor smiled. "That was excellent. Very impressive work."

Tara let out a small breath of relief, but before she could return to her seat, the professor asked, "Who handled the front-end development for this?"

Aisha, always quick to answer, raised her hand and said, "Tara and Aryan, sir."

The professor's smile grew wider. "Well, I must say, this is some of the best front-end work I've seen in a while. You two make a good duo."

The class chuckled. A few friends exchanged knowing looks, aware of Tara and Aryan's history. Aryan and Tara, however, didn't react. They briefly looked at each other—his eyes warm with pride, hers holding back any visible emotion. Then, almost simultaneously, they looked away.

They returned to their seats. As soon as they sat down, Aryan leaned slightly toward her.

"Thanks for covering me back there, Star," he said softly.

She gave a small nod, not looking at him. "Hmm."

The rest of the class passed quickly. When it ended, Tara gathered her things and stood up to leave. She had just taken a few steps toward the door when the professor called out.

"Tara, Aryan—could you both stay back for a bit?"

She froze. Aryan, who had been a few steps behind her, exchanged a quick glance with her. She looked at him, confused, but then sighed and turned back toward the professor.

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