Aarav glanced at the phone screen.
9:15 pm and he's still not back.
He didn't know why he kept checking the clock - it wasn't like he cared where he went.
Maybe it was just the silence. The room felt different when he wasn't in it.
He scrolled through his phone, trying to ignore the strange tightness in his chest, but nothing on the screen was even registering.
"Forget it. I'll just go eat."
Aarav sighed and moved towards mess.
The mess was nearly empty when he walked in. The air smelled faintly of curry and steam, but the food didn't look inviting anymore. He sat down, tried to eat, but his appetite had disappeared somewhere between the first and second bite.
The mess aunty looked over from the counter.
"Beta, your roommate didn't come for dinner?"
Aarav shook his head. "I don't care, he's out somewhere."
She smiled knowingly. "Fights happen. Should I pack some for him? He'll come back hungry."
He hesitated, staring at his plate.
"...Yeah… keep a tiffin for him, I'll hand it over."
The aunty nodded, quietly setting aside a steel container on the counter.
Aarav finished a few more bites and stood up. He didn't bother pretending to be full - just tired.
Back in the room, he placed the tiffin on the table beside Aveer's books. The lid clicked softly against the metal, echoing in the quiet.
He didn't leave a note. Didn't have to.
For a while, he sat on his bed, scrolling through songs, anything to drown out the sound of waiting.
Then the door opened.
Aveer stepped in quietly, looking tired, his hair slightly out of place. He didn't even glance at Aarav, just walked straight to his cupboard.
"There's food on the table," Aarav said, keeping his tone even. "Eat if you want."
No reply.
Just the sound of drawers opening and closing.
Aarav exhaled and leaned back against the wall. He didn't expect a thank-you, but for some reason, the silence still stung.
The tiffin stayed on the table, untouched for a long time.
Much later that night, Aveer finally opened it, ate in silence, and muttered something under his breath, too quiet for Aarav to make out.
The alarm buzzed at seven the next morning, slicing through the quiet.
Aarav groaned, reached for his phone, and turned it off before it woke Aveer.
For a few seconds, he just sat there, staring at the sunlight creeping through the curtains. The room looked different in the morning; calmer, softer. Even Aveer looked less irritating when he was asleep.
Aarav stood up, stretched, and glanced around. That's when he noticed it - the tiffin on the table.
The lid was slightly off, the spoon resting inside, empty.
"So he did eat." Aarav didn't know why that made him smile.
Maybe because he hadn't wasted food. Maybe because he hadn't ignored it completely. Either way, he caught himself grinning like an idiot before shaking his head.
"Get a grip, Aarav," he muttered under his breath. "It's just food."
He packed his bag for college quietly, trying not to wake him, but his eyes drifted toward Aveer once more. He was still asleep, one arm under his pillow, his hair a mess. He looked… human.
Not the same loud, angry boy from yesterday.
For a second, Aarav just stood there, watching him breathe softly, his face half-hidden behind the pillow. The room felt too quiet, like even the air didn't want to disturb him.
He noticed the blanket had slipped to the floor sometime during the night.
Without thinking, Aarav bent down, picked it up, and pulled it gently over him. Aveer shifted slightly, murmuring something in his sleep, something Aarav couldn't catch.
Aarav waited, afraid he'd wake him, then smiled faintly when Aveer turned his face away, curling deeper under the warmth.
"Still dramatic, even while sleeping," he whispered, shaking his head.
Then grabbed his bag, checked his ID, and left the room quietly. The door clicked shut behind him.
-----
The sunlight hit Aveer's eyes, pulling him out of sleep. He groaned, burying his face into the pillow, unwilling to wake up yet.
Something felt different. Warm.
When he blinked his eyes open, the first thing he noticed was the blanket covering him.
He froze for a second. He didn't remember using it last night. His gaze fell on the empty side of the bed. Aarav's things were gone. He had already left for college.
Did he…?
No. There was no way he'd do that. Not after the kind of things he had said.
Aveer sat up slowly, brushing his hair back. "Idiot," he muttered, though he wasn't sure if he meant Aarav or himself.
Because for a moment, he couldn't stop thinking about how gentle that small act felt - and how much he hated that it mattered.
---
As he stepped out of the PG gate, he caught sight of Arsh, standing near his bike with that same irritating grin plastered on his face.
"Well, look who's up early," he said, tilting his head. "Aarav's fiery roommate or dear cousin. Thought you'd still be sulking under the blanket."
Aveer frowned, already regretting not taking a longer route.
"I don't have time for your jokes."
Arsh chuckled, leaning closer. "You're just too serious for your own good. Aarav told me you're the kind of guy who needs to be handled carefully."
Aveer froze. "What did you just say?"
Arsh shrugged. "Nothing big. He just said you've got a temper and someone has to teach you a bit of… adjustment."
The air felt heavier all of a sudden.
Teach me a bit of adjustment?
"So he told you to handle me?" Aveer's voice came out lower than he expected.
Arsh's smirk wavered for a second. "Does it matter to you?"
Aveer stepped closer, eyes locked on his.
"Did he also tell you to poke fun at me in the mess that night? Or was that your own brilliant idea?"
Arsh looked taken aback. "Dude, chill. I didn't mean..."
"Save it." Aveer cut him off, his tone sharp enough to make him flinch. "Tell your friend I don't need anyone to handle me. And next time, keep my name out of your mouth."
He walked away before Arsh could respond, fists clenched, blood buzzing in his ears. Every step he took felt like walking over a memory he was trying to bury.
Aarav was still trying to play the same old games.
The anger sat heavy in his chest.
People didn't change. They just learned new ways to pretend they had.
By the time Aveer reached the coaching centre, the anger had dulled into a steady hum beneath his ribs.
The corridors were alive with chatter, students running between rooms, clutching files, searching for roll numbers pinned to boards.
He stopped near the notice board, scanning for his name when someone tapped his shoulder.
"Hey, we meet again."
He turned and saw Shivi, the same girl who lent him the umbrella yesterday, her smile soft but bright enough to cut through the noise.
"Looks like luck's on your side lately," she teased. "Or maybe I'm just everywhere."
"Maybe you're stalking me," Aveer said, half-smiling before he even realized it.
She laughed. "If I were, I'd pick someone more interesting. You're too quiet for that."
Before he could reply, another voice joined in - a guy about his age, tall and slightly goofy-looking, wearing specs that kept slipping down his nose.
"Shivi, you found your umbrella thief!" he said, grinning. "I was wondering who stole your heart...I mean, umbrella."
Shivi rolled her eyes. "Aveer, this is Reyansh, my batchmate. Don't mind him, he's allergic to seriousness."
"Clearly," Aveer said, shaking hands with him.
The three of them entered class together.
---
The professor started with orientation, talking about expectations, exam patterns, the usual talk no one really listened to.
Reyansh leaned closer and whispered, "So, Aveer, you're from Lucknow?"
"Nope," Aveer replied softly. "Just moved in."
"Oh, new city, new chaos. You got a place to stay?"
"Yeah. PG."
He grinned. "Roommate stories incoming?"
Aveer sighed. "Don't even start. Mine's already a disaster."
Shivi turned from the next seat. "What happened?"
"Let's just say," Aveer muttered, "he's someone I hoped I'd never see again. But fate has a sick sense of humour."
Reyansh chuckled. "Ah, enemies under one roof, sounds like a TV serial. So when's the love confession episode?"
"Never," Aveer said instantly, his glare enough to make him laugh harder.
Shivi smiled, resting her chin on her palm. "Sometimes the people who annoy you the most end up teaching you something important."
"Yeah," Aveer said dryly, "like how much patience I don't have."
They laughed again, and somehow, the tension he'd been carrying since morning started to fade.
Maybe this city wasn't all bad, at least, it had a few faces that didn't remind him of the past.
After class ended, they walked out together. The air smelled of samosas and rain-soaked roads.
Reyansh waved goodbye halfway, mumbling something about an extra bio lecture.
Shivi and Aveer walked the rest of the way to the gate.
"So," she said softly, "since you owe me for the umbrella, how about coffee tomorrow after class?"
Aveer blinked. "You're calling that a debt?"
She shrugged. "A debt or an excuse - depends on how you take it."
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Then I guess I'll pay it back properly."
"Tomorrow, then," she said, walking away, her hair catching the light like a goodbye that lingered a little too long.
For a moment, Aveer just stood there, watching her leave.
For the first time in weeks, someone had managed to make him forget Aarav - even if only for a few minutes.
When Aveer unlocked the dorm door, the familiar hum of the ceiling fan greeted him first. Aarav was already there - sitting cross-legged on his bed, scrolling through something on his phone.
He looked up as Aveer entered.
"So," he said, voice casual, "how was your first day of coaching, buddy?"
Aveer threw his bag on the chair.
"I'm not your buddy," he snapped. "And I'm not related to you in any way."
Aarav frowned, half-amused, half-confused. "Easy, man. I was just asking."
"Yeah, right. Like you don't already have your little spies to tell you everything," Aveer muttered, his words sharper than he intended.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Aarav straightened.
"Oh, don't act innocent. Your friend Arsh…" Aveer spat the name like it burned his tongue. "He picked a fight with me today. Said you sent him to 'make me understand things'. Sound familiar?"
Aarav's face twisted. "What? I didn't… Arsh says things just to get reactions, you know that."
"I don't know anything anymore," Aveer said, meeting his eyes for the first time. "You've always had people to do your talking for you. Back then, it was Vishesh. Now it's Arsh. Maybe you just like watching others do your dirty work."
Aarav's expression shifted, caught somewhere between confusion and something Aveer couldn't quite place.
"You're dragging the past into this?" Aarav said.
"Because you never let it end," Aveer shot back.
His voice cracked slightly, but he didn't care. "You still act like you were the victim. Like you didn't stand there and believe every word he said."
Aarav looked stunned. "Aveer, I don't even know what you're talking about…"
"Of course you don't," Aveer cut him off. "You never do. You never wanted to know. You all just needed someone to blame, and I was the easiest target."
The silence between them felt electric, thick with words neither of them had planned to say.
For a long second, Aarav didn't reply. He just stared at Aveer like he was searching his face for something familiar that wasn't there anymore.
Then he exhaled.
"You really think I'm like that?"
Aveer turned away.
"I don't think. I know."
He walked toward his bed, pulled the blanket over himself, and shut his eyes. The argument lingered in the air like the echo of a storm that hadn't ended, just paused.
Aarav didn't move.
Aveer could feel it - the silence, the tension, the weight of something left unfinished, but he refused to turn back.
Aarav sat still, hands clenched, his mind racing.
He didn't fully understand what Aveer meant… but something about the name Vishesh twisted in his chest, like an old scar remembering the blade.
Aveer turned away, pulling the blanket up like a wall between them. His breathing steadied after a while, pretending sleep came easy.
But it didn't for Aarav.
He just sat there, watching the dim glow of the bulb flicker on the ceiling. Aveer's words kept echoing.
"You've always had people to do your talking for you. Back then it was Vishesh."
Back then.
Aarav's jaw tightened.
It had been years. They had all moved on. At least, that's what he had told himself.
But the way Aveer had said it - sharp, broken, accusing - it felt like something he had buried long ago had suddenly come alive again.
He remembered bits and pieces… Vishesh yelling, Aveer walking away, his own voice rising in anger. He didn't even remember what the fight had been about anymore - just that it had ended with silence.
A silence that had stretched for years.
Did he really believe Vishesh back then?
Did he even try to listen to Aveer?
Aarav rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the weight of the thought pressing down.
"Forget it," he muttered under his breath. "It's old. It doesn't matter anymore."
But it did.
Because the anger in Aveer's eyes tonight - it wasn't just anger. It was pain that hadn't healed.
Pain he might have helped create.
Aarav glanced at him again. Aveer looked calm in sleep, the same calm he used to fake back then, before walking away and never looking back.
Maybe he was right. Maybe Aarav had let someone else do his talking. Maybe he had never really known the whole truth.
The fan hummed, soft and low. Somewhere outside, a dog barked in the alley.
Inside, the room felt colder.
Aarav pulled the blanket closer around himself, his eyes still fixed on the still figure beside him.
"Why does it still matter?" he whispered to no one.
And the silence, as always, had no answer.
The past wasn't gone - it had just been waiting.
To be continued...