Aarav Banerjee is a mystery wrapped in silence. He speaks only when necessary, yet when he does, everyone listens. He's not popular, but everyone knows him. He's just joined junior college, though not very thrilled about it. He's not quiet, just car...
It's author's birthday so here is a cute early chapter
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
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"You're still terrible at following directions," I sigh into the phone, exasperated.
"And you're still terrible at giving them. I said gate B," she snaps.
"No. You said gate D, Aastha. Just… meet me at the cafeteria. It's probably closer to where you ended up anyway. And I could use a cup of coffee before dealing with Angry You."
"I'm not angry," she mutters. “I just… I physically can’t wait anymore. I need to see you. My legs—wait, I think I see a cafeteria. This place is massive. Where are you exactly?"
I start making my way toward the cafeteria entrance, weaving through the late-night airport crowd.
"I can’t wait either,” I murmur. “But seriously, if someone ever wanted to kidnap you, it’d be ridiculously easy–"
Someone crashes into me mid-sentence, hard enough to knock the breath out of my chest.
A yelp. That familiar scent. A painfully neon purse hitting the floor.
And I just… know.
She's not just some girl. She's my girl.
Instinctively, I reach for her shoulder to keep her steady before she can go tumbling to the ground—like the first time I met her.
Only this time, I won’t let her fall.
She bats my hand away like the idea of another guy touching her disgusts her but the second her eyes meet mine, that sharp edge melts.
"Aarav..." she breathes.
I don’t give her a second to think. I pull her into me, arms locking around her, like she might vanish again if I wait even a moment too long.
I bury my face in the curve of her neck, and for the first time in years, I feel like I'm finally home.
She clings to me like she's holding onto gravity itself.
And I know. She missed me just as much.
I hear her sniff, soft and shaky, and I pull back, brushing my fingers gently along her cheek.
“Nope,” I whisper, shaking my head. “We made a deal, remember? No tears.”
She tries. God, she really tries. Her bottom lip quivers, her lashes flutter, but the tears fall anyway.
“I know,” she whispers, voice cracking.
I chuckle, wiping them away with my thumb. “Let's go home?”
