Mahika and Amoli can't stand each other, but that's not the only thing they have in common.
Mahika treats Amoli like she's childish. Amoli thinks Mahika is a stuck-up prude. But Mahika's best friend and Amoli's brother are getting married, so they c...
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˗ˏˋhazy stupors and startled leaps 'ˎ˗
➷
As consciousness gradually reclaims its hold, the world around Amoli slowly emerges from a haze after hearing the sound of a door shutting.
She instinctively reaches out to sleepily pat the space beside her, eyebrows drawing together when her fingers find nothing but empty sheets. Her bleary eyes flutter open just as a moment of confusion settles in.
Mahi? she thinks absently, blinking once, twice, letting the familiarity of her surroundings slowly begin to take shape in the too-bright light before she attempts to sit up, a heaviness clinging to her limbs that causes her to slump back against the plush pillows.
Rubbing her eyes, she surveys the room once more, a lingering disorientation seeping into her thoughts.
In an attempt to get up again, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, the cool, tiled floor beneath her bare feet waking her up a little more even as a tingling sensation begins spreading through her body; pins and needles dancing across her skin.
The room sways gently, playing tricks on her senses, but she steadies herself with a hand on the mattress and looks around again. The faint sound of running water breaks through the stillness of the room, growing louder with each passing second.
11:25, the clock reads when she finally pushes herself upright and stretches her arms above her head, waiting for the sleep-induced stiffness to fade as the sound of the shower echoes through the walls.
When did I fall asleep? she wonders groggily, and shuffles towards the dresser to look at herself in the mirror. The disheveled figure staring back at her is barely recognizable; tousled hair framing her face in a way that still bores the remnants of sleep, a slight puffiness under her eyes, with creases imprinted on her cheeks from the pillows.
"Ugh," she groans at the sight, pulling off the scrunchie she always keeps around her wrist to tie it around her hair before trying to rub the sleep lines out of her face. The reflection of the whiteboard beside Mahika's desk distracts her only a second later though, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips when she remembers that they never wrote the names that were supposed to be in red.
Her eyes drift to her brother's name, and she finds herself drawing a long breath. Ducks her head down. Thinks about the words, 'No straight person says that shit unprompted', and squeezes her eyes shut.
Amoli had managed to not think too hard about it when she was talking to Mahika, but now under the slumber mist, she can't help but notice the beginning of an uncomfortable swirl in her stomach get more and more prominent.
The idea of coming out to her brother brings all of her insecurities to the forefront, and she can't put a finger on why. In her subconscious, she knows that it doesn't matter if Arnav likes boys. Or girls. Or both. Hell, it doesn't even matter if he likes neither.
