The Sky's Tear

Episode VIII: The Price Of Possessiveness

Asma and Aryan had once shared a vibrant connection that flickered like a spark in the depths of their souls. But reality had a way of interjecting, and as days passed, the warmth between them dimmed into silence. An unspoken tension lingered in the air, pushing them apart just as easily as it had drawn them together. Meanwhile, Anjali, Aryan’s ever-loyal friend cum sister from college, began to fill the void left by Asma’s absence, stepping in like a gentle balm to Aryan’s wounded heart.

Anjali quickly became his confidante and a source of consolation. "It’s okay to feel sad, Aryan," she would assure him, her voice soothing against the storm of emotions that raged inside him. She was convinced that Aryan deserved someone who could see the light in him that Asma seemed to have overlooked. Their bond deepened as they slumbered in the shared belief that friendship could heal the most fractured of hearts.

On the other end, Asma had been growing closer to her brother, Kunal. Their bond mirrored that of Aryan and Anjali, wrapped in laughter, playful banter, and the occasional bickering. Kunal encouraged Asma to pour herself into her passions, urging her to participate in the upcoming college festival—the biggest in the city.

All around them, the excitement for the festival pulsed like a living thing, with students eagerly talking about the competitions, dance performances, and food stalls, celebrities. Tension brewed beneath the surface as Aryan watched Ayan, inch closer to Asma. The jealousy that began to unfurl in Aryan's heart felt like an overwhelming tide threatening to drown him. His protective instincts kicked in, urging him to reclaim what he felt was rightfully his.

As Ayan and Asma’s friendship blossomed into something vibrant—laughter, shared glances, and whispered secrets—Aryan’s heart ached. It turned into a rivalry where the stakes were undeniably personal.

Despite their rift, time (and perhaps fate) worked in mysterious ways. Aryan, with a mix of vulnerability and determination, finally managed to reach out to Asma. He felt her barriers slipping away as they began to speak again, each conversation wrapping them in the familiar warmth of understanding and connection.

The day of the festival finally arrived. The atmosphere was electric; jubilant voices filled the air as people adorned stalls with colorful decorations. Asma, brimming with excitement, had chosen to participate in the cooking competition—"Cooking Without Fire." It was a unique challenge, and she was determined to present something extraordinary. Aryan was on the sidelines, holding her bag with his heart racing for her like a drum.

Nerves swept over Asma as she stood in the competition room, surrounded by other participants. They were isolated, the audience held back, their cheers muffled by the walls that separated them. As the days of preparation flashed in her mind, she focused on her creation: a delightful, chocolatey concoction crafted from bread and cream, topped with colorful sprinkles—her heart aligned in the flavors she had poured her energy into.

Just as Ayan had been there to support her, Aryan stood outside, every tense moment fueling his determination to cheer for Asma, despite his jealousy sparking at the edge of his heart. Ayan had left the corridor, unable to continue the contest of hearts, leaving Aryan alone to hold vigil.

When the results were finally announced, Asma stood trembling, anticipation and hope blending together. But as the judges declared the winners, Asma’s heart sank. She hadn’t won. Yet, as Aryan took a bite of her creation, his disappointment shifted into something else—the sweetness exploded in his mouth, wrapping around him like a hug.

“This is amazing, Asma!” he exclaimed, his admiration rippling through him. “You should have won!”

As tears of frustration turned into laughter, a wave of relief washed over her, knowing that Aryan had shown up not just as a competitor but as a supporter. They shared that moment, pulled back from the edge of rivalry by the undeniable bond that still lingered, now stronger and sweeter.