Historias de Unreadmessages

Kadambari and Vivan came to the city for one reason - to build their future. New hostel. New pressure. Same coaching. She isn't the topper, but she refuses to fall behind. He isn't the topper either, but he understands everything faster than everyone else. What starts as silent competition slowly turns into late-night thoughts, unspoken feelings, and choices that aren't easy. Because when dreams are everything, love feels dangerous. And sometimes the hardest decision isn't choosing someone. It's choosing your career over them. A slow-burn story about ambition, fear, growing up, and the kind of love that almost slips away before it becomes real.

He texted me after a long time. I didn't reply. In my dream, he came anyway. I stayed distant, not because I didn't care,but because I cared too much. This is a story about restraint, fear, and the quiet heartbreak of almost choosing love again

It's a poetry book. the book says everything

He never tried to own me, That's exactly how he did :) This wasn't a situationship, It was a psychological heist! He said "hey" I answered like it was a summons! Welcome to a slow-burn spiral with no rules, no promises just two avoidants pretending they're not obsessed!

She confessed. He didn't reject her. He didn't accept her. They stayed in-between. Private jokes in public. Late-night chats. This is their story-The Almost Between Us.

TAMALE TAMALE TAMALE TAMALE TAMALE💜

Prologue "Some People Ghost You. Some People Haunt You." There was no eye contact across a crowded metro. No slow-motion scene in a bookstore. No spark over spilt coffee and shared glances. It started how most accidental Gen Z connections do - through a f***ed-up meme page at 2:13 AM. @shayaribeforebed. The post said: "Unsent messages hit harder than breakups." Rahul didn't overthink it. Just replied: "mood." A ping. "fr 🫠" from someone called @sidhixnotyours. He clicked. No blue tick. No aesthetic feed. Just blurry zines, a few story highlights titled 'rage', 'safe', and 'not anymore'. They weren't supposed to talk. But they did. And kept doing it. One night turned into playlists, 3AM voice notes, digital soul-baring, trauma-dumps disguised as 'just venting,' screenshots shared instead of feelings confessed. She said, "Don't catch feelings." He said, "Cool. I don't do that." That was the first lie. They never had a label. Just situationships, unsaid boundaries, close stories, and missed calls that felt too loaded to return. She was never his. But somehow... she's the only one he never moved on from. And now, after a year of read receipts turned ghost towns, Rahul's back. Not for closure. But for truth. Raw, late, selfish maybe - but still honest. This is my story. Or maybe... ours.

Phil is gone. Dan only has the messages. -- Potentially triggering.