Anaya Oberoi, a final-year student at a prestigious college in India, was thrilled to be selected for a student exchange at King's College London. But there was a catch-she had to live with foster parents. To her surprise, one of her housemates turn...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I could see the guilt in her eyes, and I knew she understood just how disappointed I was. After announcing my absence, she threw herself at me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. Her arms held me close, and I felt her deep breaths against my chest.
It was a struggle to resist the urge to hug her back. My hands remained in my pockets, a physical barrier between my clear heart and my confused mind. Her scent of lavender enveloped me, intoxicating and familiar.
Eventually, she broke the hug, tears glistening in her eyes. She turned away, hiding her face from me as she leaned against the wall. My thoughts were in turmoil. Part of me wanted to punish her for slapping me and for thinking I could stoop so low as to harm her reputation. Yet, another part of me yearned to wipe away her tears and offer comfort. This inner conflict was unfamiliar; I wasn't accustomed to caring about the emotions of others, especially not to this extent.
In university, girls often cried over me, but I never let it affect me. This situation, however, was different. This girl was stirring emotions within me that I had long buried. The only girl I had ever loved, Ivy, had betrayed me in high school, shattering my trust in love. Since then, I swore to myself that I would never allow myself to fall into the trap of love again.
Yet, here she was, reopening wounds I thought had healed, without letting them bleed.
I could hear her sobs, each one tugging at my heart. Despite my inner struggle, after five long minutes of battling my emotions, I finally surrendered. Ignoring everything else, I sat down on the bed and pulled her closer to me. She flinched slightly at the sudden movement, but soon she was sitting on my lap. Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks flushed red, and her nose was red from crying. Gently, I brushed her hair back behind her ears.
"I'm sorry, Noah. I am! I should have realized Sasha was just jealous. I should have known you would never stoop so low or try to ruin my reputation like that," she managed to say between sobs, her voice trembling with emotion.
I continued to wipe away her tears, a small, tender smile forming on my lips despite everything. She buried her face against my chest after finishing her sentence, seeking comfort and solace.
"Kitten?"
She hummed softly in response.
"Anaya," I called her again, gently caressing the strands of her hair that cascaded down to her waist.
This time, she looked up, meeting my gaze directly. My heart ached as I took in her swollen eyes and disheveled state. "It's okay. It's not your fault. I know we never really had the chance to get to know each other," I said softly, cupping her face in my hands.
"You're not angry?" she asked, searching my eyes for reassurance.
"I never was. I was just... a little furious and disappointed. But I can't expect you to know me in just a week," I replied, trying to comfort her.
