The campus festival was only a week away, and the air buzzed with excitement.
Stalls, lights, music — the entire college was alive with laughter.
Meera had volunteered for the organizing team. Between decorations and planning, she barely found time to breathe. Aarav, on the other hand, had disappeared lately — skipping meetings, sending short replies, avoiding eye contact.
She noticed.
She pretended not to care.
But she did.
---
That afternoon, while Meera was helping set up banners, Kabir walked over, holding two cups of coffee.
Kabir: "For the most hardworking girl on campus."
Meera (smiling): "You really don't have to."
Kabir: "If I didn't, who else would? Aarav? He'd probably send you a coffee invoice."
She laughed — the kind of laugh that draws people in without trying. Kabir watched her, a spark of admiration in his eyes.
From across the courtyard, Aarav stood silently, watching the scene unfold.
Her laughter.
Kabir's smile.
And the strange ache in his chest that he didn't know how to name.
He turned away, his jaw tightening.
---Later that evening, Meera found Aarav in the library, sorting through project notes.
Meera: "You've been avoiding me."
Aarav (without looking up): "You've been busy with Kabir."
She frowned. "Excuse me?"
Aarav: "You seem… comfortable with him."
Meera: "He's a friend. Why are you even—"
She stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning. "Are you jealous?"
He looked up sharply, his expression unreadable.
Aarav: "No. Just stating what I see."
Meera (angrily): "Then see it properly! Not everything is what you assume."
She slammed her notebook shut and left before her eyes could betray the sting she felt.Aarav sat there, silent.
He didn't mean to hurt her — but he couldn't stop the fear that someone else might steal what he didn't even know how to claim.
---
The next day, Meera avoided him completely.
Kabir noticed the tension, sensing an opening.
Kabir: "He's not worth your mood swings, Meera. Some people just don't know how to care."
She gave a weak smile. "Maybe you're right."
But that night, as Meera sat alone by her window, watching the rain return, she whispered softly,
"Then why does it hurt when he doesn't talk to me?"
And somewhere across the city, Aarav stood on his balcony, the same rain soaking his hair, whispering the same question to the wind—
"Why do I miss her this much?"