Ayaan's POV
Ayaan leaned against the corridor railing, phone in his hand.
He wasn’t doing anything.
Just… scrolling.
Or pretending to.
Every few seconds, his eyes dropped to the screen, waiting for it to light up—though he already knew it wouldn’t.
Why would it?
She had only asked for the number for emergencies.
And there was no emergency.
Still, his fingers tightened around the phone unconsciously.
“Oi, lover boy.”
Ayaan looked up to see his friends grinning at him.
“Since when do you stare at your phone like it owes you something?” one of them laughed.
Ayaan scoffed.
“Bakwas band karo.”
Another friend leaned closer.
“Arre nahi yaar, kal se kuch toh alag hai.”
“Assembly mein bhi chup, aaj bhi shaant.”
They exchanged looks.
“Wait—” one of them snapped his fingers, “tu kisi ka call wait kar raha hai kya?”
Ayaan straightened instantly.
“Kisika nahi.”
“Sure?”
“Phone toh haath se chhoot hi nahi raha.”
They laughed.
Ayaan shoved the phone into his pocket, annoyed.
“Aise hi time pass kar raha tha.”
“Hmm,” one of them smirked.
“Time pass ya koi miss call ka intezaar?”
They all burst out laughing.
Ayaan forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
He looked away, down the corridor.
And that’s when he saw her.
Tara walked past with her friends, laughing softly at something. Unbothered. Unaware. Or maybe aware and simply not caring.
Her phone stayed in her bag.
No calls.
No messages.
Just distance.
Ayaan swallowed.
His friend followed his gaze and nudged him.
“Bas bol de bhai. Itna kya sochna.”
Ayaan shook his head.
“Nahi.”
“Chhod.”
At night
Ayaan sat on the edge of his bed, phone in his hand again.
He told himself it was nothing.
Just checking messages.
Just deleting old notifications.
His thumb hovered over the screen, moving absent-mindedly.
He opened the call log.
Her number wasn’t saved.
Just a string of digits.
He stared at it for a second too long.
A mis-tap.
The screen changed.
Calling…
His breath caught.
“What the—”
He panicked and moved to cut the call—
Too late.
The ringing tone started.
Once.
Twice.
His heart slammed against his chest.
He pulled the phone away from his ear like it had burned him.
Cut?
Don’t cut?
Before he could decide—
The call connected.
There was silence.
Then her voice.
“Hello?”
Soft. Calm. Familiar.
Ayaan closed his eyes.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
He swallowed and forced his voice steady.
“Sorry.”
“Galti se lag gaya.”
A pause.
Then, equally calm—
“Koi baat nahi.”
No awkwardness.
No questions.
Just… acceptance.
The silence stretched again.
Ayaan felt stupid.
For calling.
For waiting.
For thinking.
He cleared his throat.
“Arnav theek hai.”
She replied gently,
“Haan. Aaj achha padha.”
Another pause.
This time heavier.
She spoke again, professional and composed,
“Agar koi zarurat ho, bata dijiyega.”
There it was.
The boundary.
Clear. Polite. Unmissable.
Ayaan nodded even though she couldn’t see it.
“Hmm.”
“Thanks.”
“Good night,” she said.
“Good night.”
The call ended.
Ayaan stared at the blank screen.
No sparks.
No drama.
No emotional explosion.
Tara's POV
The phone stayed in her hand for a few seconds after the call ended.
She stared at the screen, blank, like it might explain something she wasn’t ready to name.
It had been short.
Normal.
Polite.
Exactly how it should be.
She placed the phone face down on the table and exhaled slowly.
So it was him.
She hadn’t asked when Arnav mentioned giving the number. She hadn’t needed to. Some things were obvious without being said out loud.
The rain from last night came back to her mind. The gate. The way he had looked at her—not careless, not arrogant. Just… thoughtful.
She shook her head lightly.
“Bevajah mat socho,” she told herself.
This was her routine.
Tuition.
Studies.
Responsibilities.
Nothing more.
She went to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, took a sip.
Still, her thoughts betrayed her.
He hadn’t tried to talk more.
Hadn’t crossed a line.
Hadn’t even pretended the call was intentional.
That mattered.
She picked up her notebook and opened tomorrow’s lesson plan, forcing her focus back where it belonged.
Arnav needed help.
The other kids depended on her.
That was it.
Her phone buzzed with a message from a student’s parent.
She replied quickly, slipping back into her usual calm.
Before sleeping, she placed her phone on the side table, screen facing down.
No expectations.
No overthinking.
Next day
The corridor was unusually crowded that morning.
Students rushed past, laughing, shouting, bumping into each other. The bell had just rung, and everyone was late in their own way.
Tara walked ahead, clutching her books close to her chest, eyes focused straight ahead.
She turned a corner—
And almost collided with someone.
She stopped just in time.
So did he.
Ayaan.
For a split second, neither of them moved.
The noise around them faded, like the corridor had narrowed to just the two of them standing there, barely an arm’s length apart.
Ayaan opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Tara tightened her grip on her books.
Their eyes met.
Not long enough to be obvious.
Not short enough to be nothing.
He stepped aside first.
Creating space.
Respecting it.
She nodded slightly, more of an instinct than a gesture.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
She shook her head.
“Koi baat nahi.”
The same words.
Different moment.
She walked past him, her shoulder brushing the air he’d just moved from.
Ayaan stayed where he was for a second longer than necessary, watching her walk away, her steps steady, unhurried.
His friends called out to him from behind, snapping him back to reality.
“Bhai, chal!”
He turned and walked in the opposite direction.
But even as distance grew between them, the moment lingered.
Unfinished.
Unspoken.
Like a sentence paused mid-way Waiting for the right time to be completed.
_____
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