20 parts Ongoing The sound of pencil strokes filled the silence, a quiet rhythm against the weight of unspoken words.
"I don't even like him."
The sketchbook lay open, pages curled at the edges, filled with lines she never meant to draw. His face stared back at her-smudged, incomplete, yet unmistakably him. She sighed, pressing the tip of the pencil against his sketched smile.
It wasn't fair.
She turned the page.
Some memories fade. Some never let go.
Twelve years ago, there had been a little girl, a locked room, a trembling hand holding hers. Then-running. A door left ajar. A risk that had to be taken. Footsteps pounding behind them.
She had escaped.
So why did it still feel like she left something behind?
Something was missing but she couldn't quite get a hold on what.
Now, in a crowded university hallway, he leaned against the wall like he belonged there.
"Still pretending you don't care?" Rivan's voice held a smirk, but his eyes said something else.
She hated that she knew the difference.
"He was my childhood tutor. Now, he's my classmate. If this is fate, I want a refund."
A flicker of silver caught her eye-the handmade guitar pick spinning between his fingers.
Her guitar pick.
She had made it without thinking. Had given it away without knowing. Hadn't expected it to find its way to him.
He was laying down, staring at the guitar plectrum (pick) above in his hands.
His fingers closed over it. "I wonder if she knows she already picked my heart."
The paper crinkled beneath her grip, her unfinished sketch staring back at her.
"Tell me, Nitya..."
The whisper lingered like an unfinished melody.
"What am I to you?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
tropes
• Childhood frenemies to lovers.
• Friends to lovers.
• College mates to lovers.
° He fell first and harder.
° Slow burn.
° Long Distance.
° unrequited
° soft romance
° Bestfriend
ArchitectxMusician