Sugar and Solitude

Nivaan's voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of years unspoken. His eyes, dark and unyielding, stared at the ground as if he could find solace in the cracks of the pavement. "I was very homesick for a home," he began, his words trembling slightly, "a home that never opened its door for me."

Saanvi leaned forward instinctively, her brows knitting together with concern. The moonlight brushed against his face, revealing a vulnerability that was hidden behind his usual stoic demeanor. He exhaled slowly, the words seemingly dragged out of him against his will.

"All my life," he continued, his voice tightening, "I was on the outside, looking in. Always the one people glanced at, but never really saw. The society we live in... they have a way of making sure you know your place. I wasn't the bright star they wanted. I was just the shadow they ignored."

The confession hung in the air between them, raw and bare. Saanvi could feel her heart ache for him, not out of pity, but out of a deep, unspoken understanding. She knew what it meant to carry wounds unseen by the world.

"And you've never said this to anyone before?" she asked gently, her voice soft enough to cradle his pain without suffocating it.

He shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "Never. I don't know why I'm telling you this now. Maybe because I feel... I don't know, lighter around you."

Saanvi smiled faintly, her hand reaching out but stopping just short of his. "Maybe it's because you were never truly seen before. And now, you are."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Nivaan looked up. His eyes met hers, and for once, he didn't feel the need to retreat into himself. In her gaze, he found something he hadn't known he was searching for-acceptance.

And in that quiet moment, under the indifferent sky, Nivaan realized that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone in.