The library doors closed behind them with a soft thud.
Neither of them spoke immediately.
The conversation had ended.
At least technically.
But Aanya wasn't convinced conversations actually ended when the answers were missing.
They started walking.
Campus was beginning to settle into evening.
Students drifted between buildings.
A few groups sat on the grass.
Someone was playing music somewhere far away.
Normal.
Everything looked annoyingly normal.
Aanya adjusted the strap of her bag.
Then adjusted it again.
A nervous habit she wasn't aware she had.
Beside her, Sagnik walked with the same relaxed pace he always did.
No visible discomfort.
No visible regret.
No visible anything.
And somehow that irritated her.
Not because he had done something wrong.
Because she couldn't figure out what he was thinking.
"You know," she said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"You're impossible."
Sagnik glanced at her.
"That's a strong accusation."
"It wasn't an accusation."
"Sounded like one."
"It was an observation."
That earned the smallest hint of amusement from him.
Just enough to be noticeable.
Just enough to annoy her further.
Aanya looked away.
The silence returned.
And unfortunately so did her thoughts.
Because now she kept hearing the same sentence.
You're trying to turn a feeling into a memory.
The more she thought about it, the less she liked it.
Mostly because it made sense.
Which was rude.
Aanya kicked a small pebble off the pathway.
It bounced away into the grass.
"You know what's funny?"
"No."
"You never actually answered anything."
"I answered several things."
"You answered around things."
Sagnik's mouth twitched.
That wasn't a denial.
"See?"
Aanya pointed at him immediately.
"That."
"What?"
"That face."
"What face?"
"That face where you know exactly what I mean."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Liar."
"Probably."
Aanya stopped walking.
Sagnik took two more steps before realizing she wasn't beside him anymore.
He turned.
"What happened?"
She narrowed her eyes.
Nothing serious.
Nothing dramatic.
Just enough suspicion to make him sigh internally.
"You know something."
"I know many things."
"About yesterday."
A pause.
Then:
"Yes."
Aanya immediately straightened.
"See!"
"But I'm still not telling you."
Her jaw dropped.
Actually dropped.
For half a second.
Then she groaned so dramatically that two students walking past looked over.
"This is emotional terrorism."
"It is not."
"It absolutely is."
"It really isn't."
"It is."
"It isn't."
"It is."
Sagnik simply looked at her.
Calm.
Steady.
Completely unaffected.
Which made her want to throw something at him.
Not because she was angry.
Because she was losing.
And she hated losing.
Especially when he wasn't even trying.
After a few seconds, she finally resumed walking.
Muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "annoying man."
Sagnik pretended not to hear it.
They crossed the central courtyard.
The sun had dipped lower now.
The shadows longer.
The air cooler.
For a while neither spoke again.
This silence felt different.
Less tense.
More aware.
Aanya found herself glancing at him once.
Then again.
Then immediately looking away both times.
Because now she had a new problem.
The conversation hadn't given her answers.
But it had given her something worse.
Perspective
Because for the first time she wasn't wondering what she had done.
She was wondering what Sagnik had chosen not to do.
And for reasons she couldn't fully explain—
that thought stayed with her the entire walk back.