43

The grand reading hall of the Bodleian Library was filled with the soft sounds of pages turning, pens scratching against paper, and the occasional sigh of frustration. The warm glow of the antique lamps cast a golden hue over the long wooden tables where students sat hunched over their notes.

Tara sat at the far end, a thick book open in front of her, her brows furrowed as she highlighted important points. Across from her, Aisha was twirling her pen between her fingers, looking utterly bored, while Rohan was deep in his laptop, typing furiously.

She was completely focused—until she felt it.

A presence.

She didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Aryan.

He slid into the empty chair next to her, his movements effortless, as if he belonged there. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to ignore the way his presence unsettled her.

Under the table, his hand brushed against hers.

Her spine straightened immediately.

His fingers curled around hers, firm and deliberate, as if silently saying, I'm here.

Tara sucked in a breath and whispered, "Stop."

Aryan didn't let go. Instead, he smirked, his grip tightening briefly before he pulled back, acting like nothing had happened.

Aisha, oblivious to the silent exchange, groaned and shut her book. "Alright, I can't do this anymore. We need a break."

"You mean you need a break," Rohan corrected, not looking up from his screen.

"Same thing," Aisha shrugged. "Anyway, we should go out tomorrow night. Maybe dinner? A night off won't kill us."

"Where were you thinking?" Tara asked, trying to shift her focus away from Aryan.

"There's a new café near High Street that has live music," Aisha suggested. "Heard it's really nice."

"That actually sounds good," Rohan nodded. "Tara, you in?"

Before she could answer, Aryan spoke smoothly, "She's coming."

Tara turned to glare at him. "Excuse me?"

He arched a brow. "You need a break. So, you're coming."

She huffed. "I can decide for myself, thanks."

Aryan leaned in, voice low so only she could hear. "Then decide to come, Tara."

Her breath caught, and she looked away quickly, pretending to focus on her notes.

"I'll think about it," she muttered.

Aryan smirked but said nothing more.

Aisha, noticing the tension between the two, tried to eaten the scene. "So—Aria? Aakash? Are you guys in?"

Aria looked up from her notes as she smiled, "Of course! I'm down to go anywhere that doesn't involve studying for a while!"

"Same!" Aakash chirped, "The restaurant at High Street looks really good. Plus," he looked at Aryan before continuing, "We really need to hear you sing again, Aryan!"

"Aryan sings?" Rohan asked, "No way! When did you hear him sing?"

Tara looked down, trying to focus more on her book. She hadn't heard Aryan sing in years—something that used to be her favorite thing to do at one point. She took a deep breath as she looked away.

"He does sing!" Aakash added, "You have to hear it!"

"We will!" Rohan said, "So High Street tomorow for dinner?"

Everyone nodded, while Tara just stared at everyone getting friendly. Rohan looked at Tara, "Tara, what about you?"

"I will let you know, Rohan." She smiled.

Aryan looked at her, as if telling her 'You're coming'. She turned away and continued to work.

After another hour and a half of studying, Tara finally packed up her things. "I should head home," she announced.

Aryan's eyes followed her as she left, but he didn't say anything.

For now.

~•~

Tara was curled up on her couch, wrapped in her softest blanket, a bowl of popcorn beside her. The TV cast a warm glow across the dimly lit room, playing Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. She sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, completely lost in the film.

Then—knock knock.

She frowned.

It was late. Who could it be?

Slowly, she stood up, adjusting her loose top and shorts before padding over to the door. She hesitated for a second before unlocking it.

And there he was.

Aryan leaned casually against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, but his dark eyes were anything but casual as they raked over her. From her messy bun to her bare legs—he took his time, lips curving into a smirk.

"You've gotten hotter."

Tara's eyes widened. "Shut up."

His smirk deepened.

Before she could react, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. In a swift move, he pinned her lightly against the wall, his hands resting on either side of her.

"Make me," he murmured.

She turned her head away, refusing to meet his gaze. He chuckled, releasing her, but the heat of his proximity still lingered.

"What are you even doing here, Aryan?" she asked, folding her arms.

"I'm here for you," he said simply. "I want to spend time with you."

Tara sighed, rubbing her temples. "Go away, Aryan. I'm busy."

He snorted. "Yeah. Busy watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hai?"

She whipped around, glaring. "Shut up."

Aryan only grinned, stepping closer again. "Why are you fighting this, Tara?" His voice softened. "Why aren't you allowing us to happen?"

Her breath hitched. But she quickly masked it, turning away. "You pushed me away, Aryan. And now you want me back? Am I a toy?"

His face fell. "No."

"Then what is this?" she challenged.

Aryan exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "I was an idiot. I was horrible to you. I should've fought for you back then. I should've never let you go. And I know saying sorry isn't enough, but I'm asking—give me a chance. Meet my mom. You'll see how much has changed."

The mention of his mother made Tara go rigid.

"What? N-No."

Aryan's jaw clenched. He saw the panic in her eyes, the way she instinctively stepped back. His heart twisted painfully.

He reached for her gently, pulling her into his arms. His warmth, his scent—it all surrounded her in a way that was both familiar and terrifying.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "Don't be this scared. Please. I swear she won't do anything. No one will hurt you again."

Tara didn't respond. She just stood there, her arms loosely at her sides, her heart racing against his.

After a moment, she stepped away. "Go, Aryan."

He studied her for a long second, as if memorizing every detail of her face. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear as he whispered—

"By the way, tumhe dekhe bhi.... kuch kuch hota hai."

Her breath hitched.

Before she could say anything, Aryan pulled back, winking.

And then he was gone.

💜