ALMOST THERE

CHAPTER 21: What if I cried...?

Dildaara (Stand by me) - Shafqat Amanat Ali
🍒✨🐞❤️

The field was buzzing with laughter and excitement, the sun soft overhead, casting long shadows across the students and teachers gathered in the center.

The teachers had just begun their round of musical chairs, and we stood in a loose circle, cheering them on like kids at a carnival.

Tejal leaned into me, laughing at the sight of Naveena Ma'am awkwardly running around the chairs, her sari threatening to trip her at any moment. "This is priceless."

"Yeah," I said, barely suppressing a smirk as our class teacher miraculously managed to stay in the game. "Never thought I'd see this."

Bhavin was on my other side, grinning ear to ear. "I swear, Mishra Ma'am looks ready to throw down. Look at her-pure determination."

I glanced at our class teacher, Naveena ma'am, who was darting through the circle with a surprising amount of agility.

She was laughing, but there was a fierce glint in her eye. "You're right. She's not going to lose this. No way."

The energy around us was infectious. Everyone was laughing, clapping, yelling encouragement to their favorite teachers. It was one of those rare moments where everything felt light, easy, like the weight of school, exams, and life itself had lifted for just a little while.

But then, I felt it.

That creeping sensation. That unsettling prickle at the back of my neck, like someone was watching me. I knew that feeling all too well by now.

Ayan.

I shifted uneasily, my eyes scanning the crowd around me, and sure enough, there he was. Lurking near the edge of the circle, pretending to be part of the fun, but his gaze was fixed on me.

Always on me.

My stomach twisted in discomfort, and I tried to casually inch closer to Tejal and Bhavin, but they were too engrossed in the game to notice.

God, why couldn't this prick just leave me alone?

Just as the irritation was about to bubble over, I felt something else-a warmth behind me, a presence so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. My breath hitched, and I froze for a second before realizing who it was.

Shahaan.

He had slipped in behind me without a word, standing so close I could feel the soft brush of his breath against the back of my neck. He didn't say anything.

He didn't need to.

His presence was enough, a silent shield between me and Ayan's lingering gaze.

I didn't move.

I couldn't.

Every nerve in my body felt like it was on high alert, but in a strange, comforting way. My heart was hammering, not out of fear but out of... something else.

Something that made the world around us fade a little, the chaos of the musical chairs dimming in comparison to this moment.

I tried to act normal, like I wasn't acutely aware of every inch of space between us-or the lack of it.

My eyes stayed on the teachers, but my mind was everywhere else. He was close enough that I could feel his chest rise and fall behind me, a steady rhythm that seemed to match my own heartbeat.

Tejal elbowed me in the side, oblivious to the whole situation. "Look, Saysha, Naveena ma'am's going to win this!"

I nodded, not trusting my voice, because in that moment, it didn't matter who won the game. What mattered was the way Shahaan's quiet presence made Ayan's uncomfortable stares fade into the background.

The way his silent act of protection meant more to me than any words could have.

I blinked, fighting the sting behind my eyes. No, I wasn't going to cry.

Not here.

Not now.

I'd learned a long time ago not to cry when I needed to. I had unmatched expertise at holding it all in, at building walls so high no one could see inside.

But this?

This small, wordless gesture from him? It was like a crack in those walls, threatening to break them down if I let it.

I wouldn't, though. I couldn't.

So, instead, I breathed in slowly, forcing the tears away, and allowed myself to just be in the moment. To feel the warmth of Shahaan's presence behind me. To let myself silently acknowledge that, maybe, he knew exactly what I needed-- without me ever having to say it.

"Thanks," I whispered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

He didn't respond, but I felt the subtle shift of his body, like he understood. And that was enough.

It always was.

The game continued, the teachers laughing as they competed for the final chair, and the crowd erupted in cheers as Mishra ma'am finally took the victory. But even as the noise swelled around us, I felt oddly... calm.

For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.