Amaira barged into the house like a storm, flung her bag on the couch, and didn't even take off her shoes before darting to grab the phone.

Her heart was still recovering from the panipuri tragedy, but her embarrassment needed to be dumped, analyzed, and laughed over—and only one person could help with that.

She hit speed dial and Kashish picked up on the second ring.

"HELLOO—" Kashish started, but before she could even breathe properly—

"KASHISH, tujhe biswas nhi hoga aaj kya hua"

"Kya hua?" She asked with confusion

"Aree tujhe biswas nhi hoga"

"Thik hai mat bata tab"

"Areee Kyu na batau?"

"Tune hi toh kaha na, mujhe Biswas nhi hoga"

"Toh iska matlab tu nhi sunegi? Aise kaise nhi sunegi? sunna padega"

"Haa toh bhauk, meri maa" Kashish spoke being exasperated

Amaira took a deep breath before started ranting in one single breath "Achha sun toh na me aaj panipuri kha rhi thi aur itni badi Puri maine ek baar me kha li— then Nikhil— pata nhi kaha se aa gya, cycle chalate hue and he saw me, MEEE. Do you know how much embarassment I felt?"

Kashish was silent for a second.

And then it happened. A full-blown laughter explosion on the other end.

"HAHAHA—Whaaat? Usne tujhe aise dekh liya?"

"Dekha? Dekha toh kya—hasa bhi! Yaar mere sath hi aisa kyu hota hai?" she whined like a wounded kitten.

Kashish was wheezing now.

"Tu bhi hass le. Koi dard nahi samajhta mera!" she flopped dramatically on the bed.

Kashish somehow composed herself and replied through the call "Achha sorry sorry, shant ho ja. Ab tu tuition kya muh leke jayegi be?"

"Mujhe aaj tuition nahi jaana..." Amaira groaned, pulling a pillow over her face.

"Pagal hai kya? Aisa jhapar lagaungi khud chalke tuition aayegi! Tera slowburn ka season one chal raha hai aur tu skip karegi? No way!" Kashish declared like a warrior.

Amaira peeked from under the pillow.

"Nhii yaar nhi aana mujhe"

"Soch le. Mera ghar bhi tere paas hai, ghasit ke le jaungi tuition"

And just like that, both burst into laughter—bestie therapy complete.

______________________________________________

Amaira and Kashish were strutting toward the tuition ground-hair pinned, backpacks bouncing,. But then...

They froze.

Right in the middle of the road stood a massive, muscular bulldog, tongue lolling, chain dragging, vibe oozing danger.

And behind them came none other than Nikhil and Aditya, voices fading as they caught up-until they too saw the dog.

The moment Amaira saw Nikhil coming, she hid her face behind her bag.

"Tu bag se mooh kyu chhupa rahi hai?" Kashish asked, already suspicious.

"Woh... bas aise hi" Amaira muttered, eyes scanning the road like a criminal on the run.

"Ha ha pata hai pata hai" Kashish said knowing exactly why she's hiding.

Nikhil and Aditya stepped forward, besides Amaira and Kashish. Now it was four statues vs one bulldog.

Amaira leaned slightly toward Kashish.

"Woh hila toh nahi na abhi?"

Kashish, eyes wide. "Shhh! Uske kaan bhi sunte hain..."

Nikhil rolled her eyes at Kashish. "Kaan hai toh kaan se hi sunenge na, pagal"

"Pucha kisine tujh se?" She retorted back.

They all stood in a perfect line-not moving an inch. The bulldog blinked. Slowly.

Amaira cleared her throat and looked at Kashish. "Kashish tu jaa pehle. Tu animal lover hai na, jake baat kar usse."

Kashish glared. "Animal lover hu. Mowgli nhi."

Aditya jabbed a thumb toward Nikhil.

"Tu jaa, tu toh gym karta hai. Muscle dikhake bhaga de."

Nikhil scoffed. "Kutta hai woh, gadhe. Muscle dekhte hi kaat lega woh"

"Aise khade thodi reh sakte hai yaar!!" Amaira exclaimed, clutching her bag like it was her shield.

Then suddenly, the bulldog moved-just a tiny shift of one paw.

"Hila! Hila!" Nikhil whisper-screamed.

"Kya hila be?" Aditya asked.

"Abe andha hai kya? dekh na, hila phirse"

"Nahi hilaa-wait... Haa ab hilaa!" Aditya said, stumbling back.

The bulldog now stood up from the ground looking at the four of them.

"AAAH-" All four took a synchronised half-step back.

Kashish spoke up, eyeing the dog "Ye aise hilta raha toh hum hil nhi payenge"

And that was the moment the dog's owner walked up.

"Arey bachchon, darr gaye kya? Iska naam Rambo hai. Aur chinta mat karo, ye kaat ta nhi!"

The four of them clearly didn't believe the man and eyed the dog with fear.

The man laughed, whistled, and Rambo-clearly unfazed by the chaos he caused-trotted off like a retired mafia don.

"Tum chaaro ka reaction dekh ke toh mera din ban gaya aaj!" the uncle chuckled, shaking his head as he walked away.

The four of them stood there silently for a second, before Kashish and Nikhil put up their bravery font again.

"Dekha kutta hi toh hai. Bewaja dar rhe the tumlog" Nikhil adjusted his jacket.

"Wahi toh. Me toh hu bhi animal lover, shakal dekh ke pata chal gya tha nhi katega" Kashish said, flipping her hair back.

Meanwhile Amaira and Aditya looked at their specific bestfriend with a glare.

"Ek number ke fekuchand hai dono" Aditya muttered as Amaira shook her head.

They stepped into the tuition ground still reeling from their Rambo trauma, brushing it off with coughs and fake coolness like nothing had happened.

Amaira and Kashish sat on their usual spot but-Aditya and Nikhil were trying to outpace each other to the same bench like five-year-olds with a territory to claim.

"Main edge pe baithunga, tu andar ja," Nikhil said, pushing Aditya slightly with his elbow.

"Ae, main pehle aaya hoon, tu andar baith" Aditya grumbled, trying to wiggle past him.

"Bas karo tum dono!"

The thunderclap voice of Pradeep Sharma Sir sliced through the air like a chalk flying mid-anger.

They both froze.

"Yeh tuition centre hai ya wrestling ring? Do saal ke bachhe tum dono se jyada mature hote hai!" he scolded, eyeing both of them like a lion scanning its prey.

"Tum charo jab same class me ho aur syllabus same hai toh ek hi bench me kyu nhi baith jate?"

He didn't wait for an answer and pointed to their bench.

"Waha jake baitho dono aur sath me mat baithna. Aditya, tu baith Kashish ke saath. Nikhil, tu Amaira ke saath."

Aditya's jaw tightened as he turned toward the bench. Kashish had already taken her place, arms folded, her posture elegant but sharp like she was preparing for a verbal duel.

Nikhil shuffled to the other side and sat beside Amaira, who was trying to hide her smile.

On the other bench, Aditya glanced at the empty space beside Kashish-and the bag she had deliberately placed right in the middle of the bench.

He didn't say a word. Just sat down with a stiff jaw, pretending like her passive-aggressive border control didn't bother him.

Kashish, meanwhile, adjusted her posture elegantly and opened her notebook. Her eyes not even brushing his side.

The four of them bent over their books-Amaira and Nikhil immediately leaned a little toward each other, solving an equation and for the first time Amaira loved Maths.

"Iska answer kya ho sakta hai?" Amaira whispered.

"Yeh wala toh maine kal ki test mein kiya tha-option B hai," Nikhil replied lowly, lips barely moving.

Aditya squinted at his book, frowning. He was trying to figure it out himself and as he couldn't understand, he turned towards Nikhil.

"Answer kya hai, Nikhil?" Aditya asked casually, looking toward him-only to realise he couldn't fully hear what Nikhil had said.

His hearing aid picked up the soft hum of the fan... but not that whisper.

Before Nikhil could repeat, a voice cut in sharply-very close to his ear.

"B bola usne!!"

Aditya's jumped.

Kashish sat there innocently, pen tapping on her notebook like she hadn't just blown a hole in his soul.

He turned to glare at her, half-stunned. "Itna cheekhne ki zarurat thi nhi waise"

"Sorry sunayi nahi de raha tha na, toh socha chilla du" she said sweetly, eyes locked on her book with a smirk playing on her lips.

Kashish just smiled to herself, still pretending to be focused-while Aditya, flustered and mildly deaf in one ear, shifted awkwardly on the bench.

The bag still lay between them.

Aditya leaned back ever so slightly, rubbing the ear she just screamed into-but the sting wasn't from her voice.

It was from the unspoken ache between them.

He didn't need her words to know-Kashish was angry. Hurt. Tired of being ignored.

His fingers clenched into fists under the table, his jaw locking again. Say it, his heart pleaded. 'Tell her why you stopped talking. Tell her everything.'

But he just... stayed quiet.

Tuition class had finally ended, Amaira was already whining about her headache from all the "math torture" when Kashish stopped walking and adjusted her bag.

"Amaira tu jaa, mujhe ek kaam yaad aaya. Main dusre raste se jaaungi," she said casually.

Amaira narrowed her eyes, suspicious, but didn't press it. "Thik hai, don't get kidnapped."

As Amaira turned the corner, the dusty sidewalk greeted her with a loose rock—and her clumsy fate.

She didn’t even see it. One moment she was checking her phone, the next—BAM!

She collided right into someone's back, almost doing a full-body bounce off them.

"OH SHI—!" she yelped, stumbling as the guy in front steadied himself.

She looked up. Nikhil.

He turned slowly, slightly wide-eyed, and Amaira blinked up at him. "Uhh... thank you?" she mumbled, brushing dust off her shirt, her cheeks flushing redder than chili powder.

Nikhil was about to say something wise or cool, or at least not stupid—but behind them, he heard two faint whistles and turned.

Aditya and Kashish were standing at the alley corner, both smirking like absolute devils, silently giving them a double thumbs-up.

Aditya even winked.

Nikhil rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "It was just an accident."

But as Amaira walked away, Nikhil stood there a moment longer, touching his back where she’d bumped into him— and something stirred in his chest, something that felt way too warm to ignore.

Aditya walked down the street quietly, adjusting his bag strap as he mentally replayed the tuition class — or more precisely, how Kashish had shouted the answer into his ear like a war trumpet.

He almost smiled.

Almost.

But before his thoughts could wander too far, a boy approached him from the side — one of those arrogant school kids and unfortunately his classmate.

"Arey Aditya!" he called out loudly.

Aditya didn’t hear.

"ADITYAAA!" he yelled again.

Aditya flinched slightly this time and turned, eyes blinking like he was pulled from a different world.

"Ha?" he said, unsure.

"Ye kya baat hua be? Tu toh full time ignore king nikla!" the guy chuckled, nudging his arm.

Aditya just gave him a look — unreadable — and muttered, "Sunai nhi diya tha, kuch kaam hai?"

The guy rolled his eyes, "Obv kaam hai tabhi toh bulaya na. Woh tujhe pata hai na, kuch dino se school bunk mar rha tha toh ab teacher ne notes mange hai, apna de dega?"

"Sorry, nhi de sakta" he said before leaving.

The guy watched him leave, waited for a second, then scoffed under his breath.

"Saala behra kahi ka. Har baar chillake bolna padta hai… phir attitude bhi aisa ki jaise Harvard ka topper ho. Sympathy chahiye bas… drama king."

He turned to go — and froze.

Right in front of him stood Kashish Poddar, arms folded, a slow, deadly smile on her lips. Her tone, when she spoke, was so sweet that it dripped with menace.

"Excuse me? Can you repeat that again?"

He blinked. "Kya kaha?"

"Behre ho kya? Sunai nhi diya" she mimicked his mocking tone

"Kya bakwaas—" before he could even complete his sentence, she spoke up.

"Bakwas? Oh no no, tum toh bol hi rahe the na… sympathy chahiye, drama king, deaf and all? Listen carefully now, since clearly your brain isn't used to processing decency."

She stepped closer, fire now dancing in her eyes.

"Andhe toh ho nhi right? Toh dikha nhi Aditya has a hearing impairment? Kisi ki takleef ka majak banana is not funny, it’s plain disrespectful. Aur sympathy? Use tum jaise gawaro ki sympathy chaiye bhi nhi"

He was stunned silent.

She tilted her head, smiling again like a final punchline. "And trust me, if he ever need protection, uske paas main hoon. So next time, if I hear even a whisper from your mouth about him—I'll give you such a legal roast, even your future lawyer won't be able to defend you."

And with that, she walked off, her bag swinging and her heart pounding — not just with anger.

But with love. Because no matter how much she pretended to hate him, a part of her still loves him and will continue loving him.

The key turned in the lock with a soft click and Aditya stepped inside, greeted not by harsh silence, but something far rarer in this house—calm.

No shouting, no presence so suffocating that it wrapped around his throat like a noose.

His father's shoes weren’t by the door. His coat wasn’t hanging.

'Thank God... he’s not home.' he muttered.

He exhaled, shoulders dropping like he’d been carrying invisible bricks. The silence, for once, felt peaceful. He moved toward his room, but—

"Bhaiyyaaa!"

Avni’s voice rang through the house like laughter after years of static. She appeared from her room.

"Papa jaa rahe hain! Ek poore saal ke business tour pe!" Her grin was wild.

"Twelve. Whole. Months!"

Aditya blinked. Once. Twice. Twelve months… of not hiding… of not fearing.

A small smile formed on his lips—real, not practiced. "Achha sahi hai, ek saal ke liye hi sahi us admi se pichha toh chhutega. Toh kab jaa rhe hai?"

She grinned more, hugging him from the side. "Ek hafte baad ja rhe hai."

They shared a look. One that said—maybe we’ll finally breathe now.

Aditya walked to his room, his steps lighter. The air didn’t feel like punishment. He opened his drawer, pulled out his sketchbook, and picked up his pen.

On a blank page, he drew her again.

Her hair, flowing like smoke. Her stance, strong and sharp like fire. But her face—still faceless. He paused at the place where her eyes should be, pen hovering.

"I’ll sketch her eyes when I see them again... when they’re looking at me like they used to. I’ll give her smile back on paper when she can give it to me, for real."

His pen moved again. Below the faceless sketch, he wrote softly—

"Some portraits deserve patience"

And tonight, in that small flicker of joy, he didn’t feel like a broken boy.

He felt like an artist—one sketch away from healing.

____________________________________________

Amaira lay sprawled on her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling fan going in slow lazy circles. But her mind? That thing was spinning like a beyblade.

"I touched him."

Her cheeks burned at the memory—how she’d slipped and basically fallen on Nikhil’s back.

She groaned, covering her face with her pillow like it could smother the butterflies.

But peace is a myth in Indian households.

From the other room, someone entered, undoubtedly her brother, playing some games on his phone like his life depends on it.

And then—

"Ooo didi." Dhruv peeked inside with a grin, still locked into his game.

She peeked out from under the pillow, half-murderous.

"Kya hai??"

"Khelega Free Fire?" He did that stupid meme face, head tilt and all.

Amaira blinked. Blank stare. The amount of secondhand embarrassment she felt? Astronomical.

"Main tera phone tod dungi" she warned, sitting up.

But then—

"Free Fire??" Prakash voice thundered from the hallway like a boss battle intro.

Dhruv paled.

Within milliseconds, the transformation was divine. He hid the phone under the pillow but the noise was still there.

Amaira choked back her laugh.

Prakash Gupta leaned against the doorframe with a raised brow and a smirk that spelled mischief.

"Free Fire?" he repeated, crossing his arms. "Beta, woh toh cartoon lagta hai mujhe. Real men play Call of Duty hai"

Amaira turned from her bed, eyebrows shooting up. Dhruv blinked. "Papa... aapko COD khelna aata hai?"

Prakash laughed—the kind of laugh that came with old war stories and unchallenged confidence.

"Aata hai? Beta, apne time me koi jeet nhi pata tha mujhse."

Dhruv’s jaw dropped.

"Papa, aap bhi gamer the?"

His eyes gleamed, voice gaining a spark it rarely had. "PS3 pe khelta tha main. Teen-teen ghante tak. Ek baar toh maa ne danda leke peecha kiya tha."

Dhruv burst out laughing, "Kyaaa baat kar rahe ho papa!"

Amaira tilted her head, voice softer, "Toh aapne chhoda kyun? Agar itna pasand tha?"

There was a pause.

And then he exhaled.

"Papa kehte the, time waste hai. Career toh bank, sarkari naukri, ya business mein hota hai. Toh khelna chhod diya. Aadat mar gayi."

Silence hung in the room for a second, like the ghost of every unfulfilled dream.

Then Dhruv, hopeful as ever, piped up, "Toh aap dobara shuru karo na!"

Prakash chuckled, "Abhi kaha ye sab khelne ka time milega mujhe. Tum log khelo."

But there was a flicker in his eyes.

The kind of flicker that says I remember the thrill. The gunfire. The teammates. The headshots.

And Amaira noticed.

____________________________________________

I'm trying something unique as a plot so I really hope y'all are going to enjoy it. Waise I hope you liked the chapter. If yes do vote and follow for more.