"Banaati hai jo tu...
Woh yaadein jaane sangmere kab tak chale
Inhi mein to meri...
Subah bhi dhale
Shamein dhale
Mausam dhale"
~Hawayein - Arijit Singh
~Monday morning~
I'd been wearing Aadyant's hoodie for three days straight.
Technically, I'd washed it. Twice. But then I kept putting it back on because it was comfortable and warm and definitely not because it still somehow smelled like him even after washing.
Bua had noticed.
"That's a nice hoodie," she'd commented yesterday morning over coffee. "New?"
"Borrowed," I'd said quickly.
"From?"
"A friend."
Her eyebrows had risen so high they'd nearly disappeared into her hairline. "A friend? You made a friend?"
"Don't sound so shocked."
"Beta, I'm not shocked. I'm thrilled." She'd smiled, genuine and warm. "Is this friend the reason you've been smiling at your phone?"
"I don't smile at my phone."
"You smiled three times during dinner last night. At your phone."
Had I?
Shit. I had.
Now it was Monday morning, and I was standing in front of my closet, the hoodie in my hands, trying to decide if wearing it to campus again was pathetic or practical.
My phone buzzed.
Aadya: Morning! Study group at the library after classes? We're all dying under the weight of assignments
Vihaan: Speak for yourself. I'm thriving
Ritika: Vihaan you asked me to explain basic economics to you yesterday
Vihaan: That was a test. You passed
Aashika: Sure, it was
Aadya: Kashvi you coming?
I stared at the message. I'd spent the entire weekend doing homework specifically, so I'd have an excuse not to go to group things. But apparently, my plans were foiled.
Me: What time?
Aadya: 5pm! See you there 💕
I looked back at the hoodie.
Practical, I decided. It was practical.
~
"You need to stop staring at your phone like it's going to magically make her text faster," Shivansh said as we walked to our morning business lecture.
"I'm not staring—"
"You've checked it four times in the last two minutes."
"I'm just... making sure I didn't miss anything."
"Uh-huh." He smirked. "You've got it bad, man."
I didn't deny it. Couldn't, really, when it was so obviously true.
The truth was, I'd been thinking about Kashvi non-stop since Thursday. About the way she'd looked in my hoodie. About her smile when she'd talked about her design project. About those messages we'd exchanged where she'd actually let me in, just a little.
Because you're worth waiting for.
I'd meant it. Every word.
"Just tell her how you feel," Shivansh said as we took our seats. "The worst she can say is no."
"The worst she can say is no and then disappear completely because I made things weird."
"Or she could say yes."
"You're an optimist now?"
"I'm a realist. And realistically? The way she looks at you when she thinks no one's watching? She's into you, man. She's just scared."
"Of what?"
"That's what you need to find out."
~
Professor Chen's voice droned on about textile innovation, but I couldn't focus. My mind kept drifting back to Aadyant's messages from Friday night.
Let me know you. The real you.
The problem was, I didn't know if I was ready for anyone to know the real me. The me that had panic attacks in parking lots. The me that couldn't talk about India without my chest getting tight. The me that was so fundamentally broken that even three years and an ocean away couldn't fix it.
"Ms. Singh?"
I snapped back to attention. Professor Chen was looking at me expectantly.
"Sorry, what?"
"I asked if you'd be interested in entering your sustainable fashion project in the freshman showcase next month. It's an excellent opportunity for exposure."
My heart jumped. The freshman showcase was a big deal—industry professionals attended, there were prizes, internship opportunities.
"I... yes. Absolutely."
"Good. I'll send you the details." She moved on to the next student, and I tried to focus on the excited flutter in my chest instead of the anxiety.
This was good. This was what I came here for.
So why did the thought of putting my work out there for judgment make me want to throw up?
~
~5pm, Library~
I got there early.
Not on purpose (definitely on purpose), but I wanted to grab a good table. One with enough space for everyone. Near a window so there'd be natural light. Far enough from other groups that we wouldn't be disruptive.
Definitely not because I wanted to be there when Kashvi arrived.
"You're here early," Aadya said, appearing with her usual scary twin intuition. "Waiting for someone?"
"Just grabbing a table."
"Uh-huh. And you just happened to grab the table with the best view of the entrance?"
"It's also near the windows—"
"You're so obvious." She grinned, dropping her bag. "It's honestly adorable."
The others trickled in over the next few minutes. Vihaan brought an alarming number of snacks. Ritika had color-coded notes for three different classes. Aashika was sketching in a notebook before she'd even sat down fully. Shivansh set up his laptop with quiet efficiency.
And then Kashvi walked in.
She was wearing my hoodie.
My hoodie.
I tried to play it cool. Failed spectacularly, judging by Aadya's knowing look.
"Hey," Kashvi said softly, sliding into the empty seat next to me. "Sorry I'm late. Professor Chen wanted to talk after class."
"You're not late," I said, very aware of how close she was. How she smelled like vanilla and coffee. How the hoodie was still too big on her and somehow that made it even better. "Everything okay with Professor Chen?"
"Yeah, actually. Really good." She was smiling—a real smile that lit up her whole face. "She wants me to enter my project in the freshman showcase."
"Kashvi, that's amazing!" Aadya practically squealed.
"That's huge," Ritika agreed. "The showcase is super competitive."
"Congratulations," I said, and without thinking, my hand found hers on the table. Squeezed gently. "I'm proud of you."
She looked down at our hands, then up at me, something soft and surprised in her eyes.
"Thanks," she whispered.
I should let go. Should move my hand.
I didn't.
Neither did she.
~
His hand was warm. Strong. His thumb brushed across my knuckles once, twice, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I should pull away. Should maintain boundaries. Should not let myself get used to this.
But it felt nice. Safe.
So I let myself have it. Just for a moment.
"Okay, so who actually understands macroeconomics?" Vihaan asked, spreading out his textbook. "Because I'm pretty sure my professor is speaking a different language."
"It's not that hard," Shivansh said. "What are you stuck on?"
"All of it. Literally all of it."
As they launched into an explanation of supply and demand curves, Aadyant's hand was still holding mine under the table. Like he'd forgotten it was there. Like it belonged there.
My heart was doing dangerous things.
"What about you?" he murmured quietly, just for me while the others debated economics. "What are you working on?"
"Fashion history essay. It's due Wednesday."
"What's it about?"
"The evolution of sustainable practices in fashion. From like, the 1960s to now."
"Sounds interesting."
"It's actually kind of boring," I admitted. "But it's required."
"Want help? I'm pretty good at research."
"You don't have to—"
"Kashvi." His thumb traced another circle on my hand. "When are you going to stop saying that?"
"Saying what?"
"'You don't have to.' I know I don't have to. I want to." His eyes met mine. "There's a difference."
God, the way he looked at me. Like I mattered. Like I was worth the effort.
It was terrifying and addictive in equal measure.
~
The study session stretched into evening. The library grew quieter as other students filtered out, but their group remained, spread across the table with textbooks and laptops and Vihaan's endless supply of chips.
Kashvi found herself actually enjoying it. Found herself laughing at Vihaan's terrible jokes. Found herself contributing to conversations without being prompted. Found herself comfortable in a way she hadn't been comfortable in years.
And through it all, Aadyant's presence beside her was steady. Constant. He didn't push, didn't demand attention. Just... was there. Handing her a pen when hers ran out of ink. Sharing his water bottle when she'd forgotten hers. Explaining a concept, she was struggling with in a way that actually made sense.
"Okay, my brain is officially mush," Aashika announced around seven-thirty. "I can't look at another architectural diagram."
"Agreed," Ritika said, closing her laptop. "Dinner?"
"I'm starving," Vihaan agreed immediately.
Everyone started packing up, the natural assumption being that they'd all go together.
Kashvi hesitated. She'd been social for hours now. Her battery was running low. The thought of another crowded restaurant made her chest tight.
"I think I'm going to head home," she said quietly. "I have stuff to do."
"Are you sure?" Aadya asked, disappointed but not pushy. "We're just going to that burger place."
"Yeah, I'm sure. But thanks."
"I'll walk you out," Aadyant said immediately, already shouldering his bag.
"You don't have to leave early because of me—"
"I'm not leaving early. I'm walking you to your bike." He looked at the group. "I'll catch up with you guys."
~
The night air was cool as we walked across campus. Most students were at dinner or already in their dorms. The pathways were quiet, lit by evenly spaced lamps.
"You don't have to walk me to my bike," I said, even though I was glad he was.
"I know." He smiled. "But it's dark, and I want to make sure you get there safely."
"I've been walking alone at night for three years."
"Doesn't mean you have to now."
We walked in comfortable silence for a minute before he spoke again.
"You did really well today. At the study session."
"I didn't really do anything."
"You were there. You participated. You laughed." He glanced at me. "That's not nothing, Kashvi."
"It's exhausting," I admitted before I could stop myself. "Being around people. It takes so much energy to just... be normal."
"You don't have to be normal. You just have to be you."
"What if being me isn't enough?"
We'd reached the parking lot. My bike was right there. But neither of us moved toward it.
"It is," he said firmly. "It's more than enough. You're more than enough."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do." He stepped closer, and I could smell his cologne, could see the earnestness in his eyes. "Kashvi, I don't know what happened to you. I don't know what you're running from or what makes you so scared of letting people in. But I know you. I know you're talented and kind and stronger than you think. I know you pretend you don't care but you do, so much it hurts you. I know you hide behind walls because it feels safer than being vulnerable."
My throat was tight. "Aadyant—"
"And I know that I want to be there when you're ready to let those walls down. Not to fix you—you're not broken. But to just... be there. To know you. The real you."
Tears were stinging my eyes. I blinked them back angrily.
"What if I'm never ready?"
"Then I'll wait." He said it like it was simple. Like it was easy. "However long it takes."
"Why?" The word came out broken. "Why do you even care?"
"Because from the moment I saw you standing at that door in that pink dress, looking terrified and beautiful and like you were one second away from running—" He smiled softly. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. And the more I know you, the more I want to know. The more I see you trying to disappear, the more I want to make sure you're seen."
A tear escaped. Then another.
"I'm a mess," I whispered. "I'm so messed up, Aadyant."
"We're all messed up." His hand came up slowly, giving me time to pull away. When I didn't, his thumb gently wiped away a tear. "The difference is, you don't have to be messed up alone anymore."
"I don't know how to do this. How to let people in."
"That's okay. We'll figure it out together. One day at a time." His hand dropped, but his eyes stayed on mine. "No pressure. No expectations. Just... let me be your friend, Kashvi. Let me care about you. That's all I'm asking."
I wanted to say yes. Wanted to let him in. Wanted to believe that maybe this could work.
But the fear was louder.
"I need time," I said finally.
"Take all the time you need." He stepped back, giving me space. "I'm not going anywhere."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Text me when you get home?" he asked.
"Okay."
"And Kashvi?" He smiled. "You can keep the hoodie as long as you want. It looks better on you anyway."
~
I watched her ride away, her red taillight disappearing into the night.
My chest felt tight. Like I'd said too much. Like I'd pushed too hard.
But I'd meant every word.
By the time I got to the burger place, everyone was already halfway through their meals.
"How'd it go?" Aadya asked immediately.
"I don't know." I slid into the booth. "I told her how I feel. Kind of."
"And?"
"And she said she needs time."
"That's not a no," Ritika pointed out.
"It's not a yes either."
"But it's not a no," Vihaan repeated. "That's progress, man."
Was it?
My phone buzzed.
Me: Made it home. Thanks for walking me out.
Me: And for everything you said. I'm not good at this stuff, but... I'm trying. I promise I'm trying.
Something in my chest loosened.
Aadyant: That's all I'm asking. Get some rest. See you tomorrow?
Me: Yeah. See you tomorrow.
I looked up to find everyone watching me with knowing expressions.
"She texted," Aadya said. Not a question.
"She texted."
"And you're smiling like an idiot."
"Am not."
"Are too."
I was definitely smiling like an idiot.
But I couldn't bring myself to care.
~
~Later that night~
I was lying in bed, wearing his hoodie (again), staring at our text conversation.
I'm trying. I promise I'm trying.
And I was. For the first time in three years, I was actually trying to let someone in.
It was terrifying.
But maybe, just maybe, it might be worth it.
My phone buzzed with one more message.
Aadyant: Goodnight, Kashvi. Sweet dreams.
Simple. Sweet. Utterly devastating.
Me: Goodnight, Aadyant.
I pulled the hoodie tighter around me and let myself smile in the darkness.
Tomorrow, I'd probably panic. I'd probably overthink everything. I'd probably try to rebuild the walls I'd let crack tonight.
But tonight, I let myself have this.
This feeling of being cared for. Of being seen. Of maybe, possibly, belonging somewhere.
And for tonight, that was enough.
~
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💌Today's question: -
What do you think Kashvi is running from? What happened in India that made her so guarded?
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