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Scene 1: The Morning After
Soft morning sunlight spilled into the dorm, warming the quiet kitchen where Aarav stood alone.
He stirred warm honey water into five glasses, trying to silence the memory that wouldn't leave him.
Yesterday's accidental kiss.
Haniya stumbling into him.
Her lips brushing his neck.
His heart reacting before his mind could stop it.
He shook his head hard.
"Forget it. Forget her."
But the memory stayed.
Footsteps dragged into the kitchen.
Harsh entered first, with hair like he had fought a tornado.
"Bro… water… please… the world is spinning double today."
Aarav handed him a glass.
Vivaan followed, groaning.
"I'm never letting Kashvi pour me shots again."
Kashvi came next, sunglasses on like a superstar.
"My head hurts but I still look fabulous."
Aarav gave her a tired look.
She smirked in victory.
Then the hallway fell silent.
Haniya stepped out of Anamika's room.
Her messy morning hair fell naturally over her shoulders.
Her skin glowed softly under the morning light.
Her oversized clothes made her look calm, delicate, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Everyone stared.
Aarav's eyes flickered to her—
and then he immediately looked away, jaw tightening.
Haniya walked to the couch and sat beside Kashvi.
Aarav picked up a glass and walked to her, eyes still avoiding hers.
He held it out silently.
Haniya looked up, voice gentle and weak.
"Thank you…"
She smiled softly.
He didn't look at her.
And the hurt showed in her eyes.
Harsh smirked.
"Oho, special treatment for Haniya today."
Vivaan added,
"Aarav personally serving someone? That's new."
Kashvi nudged Haniya.
"What did you do to him yesterday?"
Aarav's tone cut sharp through the room.
"Enough. Stop teasing her."
Everyone froze.
Haniya blinked, surprised.
Did he still care?
Did he still remember?
A quiet warmth settled in her chest.
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Scene 2: The First Crack
The team manager walked in with their weekly schedules.
"Good morning, everyone. Here are your timings for practice, meetings, and scrims."
He handed out the papers and left.
The team scattered into their rooms.
Aarav stayed to clean the glasses.
Haniya stood near the hallway, hesitating.
Then… she walked towards him slowly.
Her voice was soft.
"Did I… cause trouble yesterday?"
Aarav didn't look at her.
"No."
She swallowed.
"And… thank you for taking care of me last night."
He nodded, still without meeting her eyes.
Something inside her cracked.
Barely above a whisper, she said:
"Aarav… don't ignore me."
Her voice trembled.
"It hurts."
That made him turn.
Their eyes met.
For the first time since she returned into his life.
And he saw it — the glassy shimmer of tears.
Before he could say anything, she turned away and walked into her room.
Aarav stood frozen.
Her tears pierced him in a way nothing else could.
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Scene 3: The Quiet Apology
Minutes later, the dorm fell quiet again.
Aarav returned to the kitchen.
This time, he wasn't making honey water.
He was preparing a tray — warm breakfast, a glass of juice, and something he remembered from years ago:
Haniya's favorite food.
The one she always ordered back in school.
He didn't understand why he remembered.
Or why he cared.
But he carried the tray to her room anyway.
He knocked softly.
"It's open… come in," her voice said.
He stepped inside.
Haniya looked up — surprised, almost startled.
Aarav placed the tray gently on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed, keeping distance.
Haniya kept her eyes down, fingers nervously twisting the blanket.
Aarav's voice was low, firm, and unexpectedly soft.
"Eat your breakfast."
She stayed silent.
He took a breath.
"And don't cry."
His voice softened even more.
"It hurts me more than you think."
Haniya's head lifted slowly.
Her eyes met his — unsure, fragile, emotional.
Aarav held her gaze this time.
Then he gave her a small, gentle smile.
Warm. Familiar.
Haniya returned the smile weakly, but sincerely.
Aarav stood and adjusted his jacket.
"And don't be late," he added, voice calm.
"Get dressed. We have to go for the party."
Haniya nodded, her heart unsteady, her chest warm.
Aarav walked out of the room.
But the air he left behind felt different —
charged with history, pain, and something new neither of them could deny anymore.
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