There will never be another you

Part 19

The room felt too large for two people who barely knew how to exist in the same space.

Anjali stood near the edge of the bed, fingers nervously twisting the end of her dupatta. Shivaay was by the window, pretending to be deeply invested in the view outside—though it was just darkness and the faint glow of streetlights.

Neither spoke for a long moment.

"So..." Anjali finally said, her voice soft but cutting through the silence like a hesitant knock. "This is... our room."

Shivaay turned slightly, clearing his throat. "Yes. It is."

Another silence. Thicker this time.

His eyes briefly flickered toward the bed and then away, as if even acknowledging it was too much. Anjali noticed. Of course she did.

"I can take the couch," he said quickly, almost too quickly. "It's fine."

Anjali blinked. "The couch is... tiny."

"I've slept in worse places," he replied, a little defensive, like he needed to prove something.

She hesitated, then took a small step forward. "We don't have to make it... dramatic."

"I'm not," he said, then paused. "I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"I already do," she admitted, then immediately looked down, embarrassed. "But not because of you. Just... this situation."

That softened something in his expression.

"Same," he said quietly.

They stood there, two strangers bound by something neither fully understood yet, trying to negotiate a space that suddenly belonged to both of them.

Anjali glanced at the bed again. "It's big enough."

Shivaay followed her gaze, then nodded slowly. "We can... divide it."

"Divide it?" she repeated, a faint smile threatening to appear.

"Yes. Like... territories." He gestured awkwardly. "You stay on your side, I stay on mine. No crossing borders."

Despite herself, she let out a small laugh. It surprised both of them.

"Are we drawing a line too?" she asked.

"If necessary," he said, almost serious—then realized how ridiculous it sounded. "I mean... no. Not literally."

The tension eased, just a little.

Anjali moved first, sitting carefully on one side of the bed, as though testing whether it would accept her. Shivaay followed after a moment, keeping a noticeable distance between them.

There was a clear gap. A safe one.

They lay down stiffly, both staring at the ceiling.

The lights were still on.

"Do you... want me to turn it off?" Shivaay asked.

"Yes," she said, then quickly added, "But maybe... not completely?"

He got up, dimmed the lights instead, leaving the room in a soft, uncertain glow. When he returned, he lay down again—just as rigid as before.

Another silence settled in, but this one felt different. Less sharp. More... tentative.

"Goodnight," Anjali said after a while.

"Goodnight," he replied.

A few seconds passed.