The afternoon sun cast warm golden streaks across the campus as Anshika stepped out of the library, adjusting her bag. The cool air inside had been a relief from the lingering post-match excitement still buzzing outside. She had managed to avoid Kartikey for the last hour, but luck never seemed to be on her side where he was concerned.
There he was.
Leaning casually against the railing outside, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking at her as if he had been waiting for her.
"Kya?" she asked, looking at Kartikey, who stood in front of her, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
"What?"
"Kya kya?" He tilted his head.
"What what?"
Anshika sighed. "Kya chahiye, Kartikey?"
"What do you want, Kartikey?"
He smirked. "Coffee."
She blinked. "Toh jao, le lo."
"Go then, take it."
"With you."
She stared at him, caught off guard. "Kya?"
"What?"
Kartikey straightened, stepping closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maine match jeeta hai. Celebration toh banta hai."
"I won the match, it deserves a celebration."
Anshika looked at him. "Toh jao, apne doston ke saath celebrate karo."
"Go celebrate with your friends then."
"Baad mein," he said, tilting his head. "Abhi tumhare saath coffee peene ka mann hai."
"Later, right now I want to have a coffee with you."
Her heart did an annoying little flip, but she masked it with a skeptical look. "Main kyun?"
"Why me?"
"Kyunki tumne ab tak properly congratulations nahi bola," he said, leaning in slightly. "Bohot logon ne bola, par mujhe sirf ek se sunna tha."
"Because you didn't say congratulations to me, everyone did but I only wanted to hear it from one person."
Her heart did a small, annoying flip. AGAIN. But she just narrowed her eyes at him. "Mera coffee peene ka mann nahi hai."
"I'm not in the mood for coffee."
He raised a brow, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Toh kya peene ka mann hai?"
"Then what are you in the mood for?"
Anshika hesitated for a second before muttering, "Hot chocolate."
She wanted to refuse. She really did. But something about the way he asked-so casually, like it was nothing, yet his eyes held something unreadable-made her pause.
"Bas ek coffee," she warned herself, sighing.
"Just one coffee."
Kartikey smiled. "Bas ek hot chocolate," he corrected.
When they got their drinks, Anshika took a careful sip of her hot chocolate, only to realize too late that it was hotter than she expected. She winced, her tongue burning slightly.
Kartikey noticed instantly. "Careful," he murmured, reaching out before he even thought about it.
Before she could react, his thumb brushed against the corner of her lips, wiping away the tiny drop of chocolate that had smudged there.
Anshika went completely still.
His touch was barely there, fleeting, but it sent an unexpected warmth spiraling through her. She swallowed, looking up, only to find him already watching her, something unreadable in his gaze.
And then, just as quickly, Kartikey pulled back, as if nothing had happened. "Tum hamesha itni jaldi mein hoti ho?" he teased, taking a sip of his hot chocolate like he hadn't just done something completely disarming.
"Are you always in so much hurry?"
"Huh?" She looked up.
Kartikey shook his head with a small chuckle. Then, in an unexpected moment of softness, he reached forward and gently flicked a strand of her hair back behind her ear.
It was such a small, natural movement-one he did so casually-but it made Anshika freeze. The warmth of his fingers, the light brush of his touch against her skin, sent a shiver down her spine.
She looked up, wide-eyed.
Kartikey just leaned back, picking up his mug as if nothing had happened. "Chalo, ab properly bolo."
"Now say it properly."
Anshika swallowed, forcing herself to focus. "Kya?"
"What?"
He raised a brow. "Congratulations."
She exhaled, shaking her head at him but finally relenting. "Congratulations, Kartikey. Tumne bohot accha khela."
"You played really well."
His lips twitched. "Bas yahi sunna tha"
"Only wanted to hear this."
She shook her head softly but couldn't fight the small smile on her lips.
"So," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "Sach batao, tum match dekhne kyun aayi thi?"
"Tell me the truth, why did you come to watch the match?"
Anshika frowned. "Meera ne zabardasti ki." She lied because she did not have any answer to that.
"Meera forced us."
He hummed, pretending to consider that. "Haan, par Meera ne toh mujhe bataya ki tum pehle se hi soch rahi thi."
"Yes, but Meera told me that you were already thinking about it."
Her fingers tightened slightly around her mug. "Meera kuch bhi bakwaas karti hai."
"Meera says anything."
Kartikey chuckled. "Haan, karti toh hai." He leaned forward slightly. "Par iss baar shayad sach bol rahi thi."
"True, but maybe she was speaking the truth this time."
Anshika looked away, staring at the light ripples in her hot chocolate. She hated that he could read between the lines so easily.
Before she could think of a comeback, Kartikey suddenly reached out, his fingers brushing against her wrist lightly as he tugged at her bracelet-the simple silver one she always wore.
She froze.
"Yeh hamesha pehenti ho," he murmured, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.
"You always wear this."
Anshika swallowed, suddenly feeling too warm. "H-haan. Pasand hai mujhe."
"Y-yes. I like it."
He nodded, his thumb grazing the delicate chain before he let go. "Suits you."
Her heart skipped.
She quickly picked up her mug, taking a sip just to distract herself, but the warmth spreading inside her had nothing to do with the drink.
Kartikey just leaned back, watching her with that unreadable look again, the one that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of something unknown.
And for the first time, Anshika wasn't sure if she wanted to step back.
Anshika was perched on the library floor, books scattered around her as she scribbled notes furiously. The quiet hum of the AC and the soft rustling of pages filled the near-empty space.
"Padhti hi rehti ho?" Kartikey's voice broke the silence.
"You always keep studying?"
She jumped slightly, looking up to find him leaning against a nearby bookshelf, arms crossed, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?" she whispered, glancing at the librarian, who was already eyeing them suspiciously.
"What are you doing here?"
"Tumhe dekhne aaya hoon," he said nonchalantly, sliding down to sit beside her, legs stretched out lazily.
"Came to see you."
Anshika sighed. "Classes nahi hain kya?"
"Don't you have classes?"
Kartikey smirked, pulling one of her books toward him. "Yeh kya hai?"
"What is this?"
"Case study."
"Bohot interesting lag rahi hai," he said dryly, flipping through the pages without actually reading.
"Seems interesting."
She snatched it back. "Mujhe padhna hai, Kartikey."
"I need to study, Kartikey."
He hummed in response, watching her scribble again. A few moments passed in silence, until he suddenly reached out, plucking the pen from her fingers.
"Tum thodi der ke liye break le sakti ho, you know?"
"You should take a break for some time, you know?"
She huffed. "I need to finish this."
Kartikey shook his head, flipping the pen between his fingers before setting it aside. "Ek break le lo, bas do minute."
"Take a break, just two minutes."
She hesitated but sighed, leaning back against the bookshelf. Kartikey nudged her shoulder lightly with his. "Dekha? Itna mushkil nahi tha."
"See? It wasn't so difficult."
Anshika didn't reply, but she didn't pull away either.
"Bore ho raha hai." He nudged her after a few seconds, his arm brushing against hers. When she turned to frown at him, he only grinned and pulled out a small packet from his pocket, placing it on her notebook.
"I'm getting bored."
Her eyes flickered to the familiar packaging. Dark Chocolate.
She bit her lip, fighting the reluctant smile threatening to surface. He had noticed. Again.
"Tum laaye?" she asked, picking up the chocolate hesitantly.
"You bought it?"
Kartikey leaned back, stretching lazily, acting as if he hadn't just remembered her favorite chocolate brand without her ever telling him. "Nahi, yeh toh hawa se udh ke aa gayi"
"No, it flew here."
Anshika shook her head, a soft smile tugged at her lips as she broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth, savoring the rich bitterness. As she took a bite, she saw him watching her, a satisfied look on his face, as if her eating it was some kind of silent victory.
After a moment's hesitation, she held out a small square towards him.
"Chahiye?" she asked, her voice barely above a murmur.
"You want it?"
Kartikey looked up, amused. "Kya?"
"What?"
She averted her gaze, still holding the piece between her fingers. "Chocolate," she mumbled.
"Chocolate."
He raised a brow, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Mujhe de rahi ho?"
"You're giving it to me?"
Anshika's lips pressed into a thin line, and she started pulling her hand back, regretting her decision. But before she could, Kartikey leaned in, bending down slightly, but instead of taking it from her hand, he leaned in and took the chocolate directly from her fingers, his lips brushing against them ever so lightly.
Anshika froze. Heat rushed to her cheeks as his lips grazed her skin for the briefest second before he leaned back, chewing slowly, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.
Her heart stopped beating, and she immediately turned back to her book. Ignore. Ignore.
Later that day, they had a group discussion session together, which was another battle altogether for Anshika.
She had always kept her head down, speaking only when necessary, never drawing attention to herself. The idea of being noticed, of standing out, made her uneasy. Years of feeling she wasn't enough had made her cautious.
But Kartikey... he had a way of shifting the focus to her without making it obvious.
"Anshika ka point sahi hai," he said casually during the discussion, leaning forward, arms resting on the table. "Agar hum marketing campaign ko cultural aspect se dekhein, toh impact zyada hoga."
"Anshika is right, if we see marketing campaign as a cultural aspect, then the impact will be better."
Her friend Priya nudged her under the table with her foot, smirking. Anshika tried to ignore her.
It wasn't the first time Kartikey had done this-backing her up, reinforcing her ideas, making sure her voice was heard. And while she told herself it was just because they were in the same group, she couldn't shake the way her chest felt a little lighter every time he did it.
But it wasn't just that.
At some point, without her even realizing it, he had claimed the seat next to hers. Always. If someone else sat beside her first, he'd somehow manage to slide in on the other side or casually switch places when no one was paying attention.
Her friend had noticed, of course.
"You guys have some unspoken rule about sitting together?" Priya whispered to her, while Kartikey was busy arguing with another classmate about something.
"Matlab?" Anshika feigned ignorance, flipping through her notebook.
"What do you mean?"
Priya gave her a knowing look. "Matlab yeh ki tum dono kabhi alag nahi baithe."
"You both never sit away from each other."
Anshika frowned, the realization seeping in. "Coincidence."
"Uh-huh," Priya drawled, clearly not believing a word of it.
Anshika wished it was just that simple. But the truth was, she was afraid. Afraid of reading too much into Kartikey's actions, afraid of trusting the warmth he made her feel. She had spent years building a wall around herself, believing she wasn't the kind of girl someone like him would genuinely want. And yet, Kartikey kept finding ways to slip through the cracks.
"Kartikey gives you quite a special treatment, huh?"
"Matlab?" Anshika asked, playing dumb, trying to focus on the ongoing discussion.
"What do you mean?"
"Matlab ye ki jab tujhe dhoondna hota hai toh, banda library, canteen, pura college dhoond leta hai, aur usey tere aas paas hi rehna hota hai, and not to mention pura college yahi baat kar raha ki kaise tujhe apni godd me uthake infirmary leke gaya tha" Priya added with a teasing grin.
"I mean he looks for you in the whole college whenever he has to find you, library, canteen and where not. He always want to be around you and not to mention everyone is talking about how he carried you to the infirmary."
Anshika's grip tightened around her pen as Priya's words sank in.
Pura college yahi baat kar raha hai...
She hadn't thought about it like that before. Sure, she'd noticed the curious glances, the whispered conversations that seemed to pause when she walked by. But she had convinced herself it was all in her head. Now, hearing Priya say it out loud, the weight of it pressed heavily against her chest.
Her family's reputation. Their expectations. The rules that had been drilled into her since childhood.
And now, people were talking about her. About her and Kartikey.
She could already imagine the worst-case scenarios-someone saying something to her grandfather, a rumor reaching her extended family. The mere thought of it sent a cold shiver down her spine. Nahi, Anshika you can't disappoint Dadaji and Mummy.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Kartikey watching her.
"Anshika?" His deep voice cut through the noise of her mind.
She blinked, snapping back to the present. He was looking at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Kya hua? Tum theek ho?"
"What happened? Are you okay?"
The rest of the group was still engaged in the discussion, but his focus was solely on her. It only made her more aware of herself, of the way her heart was pounding.
"Uh... haan," she muttered, pushing her hair behind her ear. Calm down, it's okay.
"Yes"
Kartikey didn't look convinced. "You sure? Kuch toh chal raha hai tumhare dimaag mein. Batao?"
"Something is on your mind. Tell me?"
"Nothing, I'm fine." She forced a small smile, hoping he'd drop it.
But Kartikey wasn't one to let things go so easily, especially when it came to her. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter but concerned. "Agar koi baat pareshan kar rahi hai, toh mujhe bata sakti ho. I won't force you, but I'm here to listen."
"If there's anything bothering you, you can tell me."
She swallowed, not sure how to respond. It was so easy with him. Too easy. The understanding in his eyes did something to her. And that was dangerous.
Before she could say anything, their professor's voice interrupted. "Alright, let's wrap this up. Good discussion today, everyone."
The session ended, and people started gathering their things. Priya shot her a look, raising an eyebrow as if to say see I told you.
Kartikey, however, didn't move. As the others filtered out, he remained seated beside her, still waiting for an answer. Still watching her in that way that made her feel seen. Exposed.
She exhaled sharply.
"Kuch nahi, bas practice ke baare me soch rahi thi," she lied, standing up. "Mujhe practice ke liye jaana hai."
"I'm just thinking about practice, I have to go for practice."
His jaw ticked slightly, but he nodded. "Theek hai. Lekin agar kabhi bhi baat karni ho..."
"Ok, but if you ever want to talk then..."
She didn't let him finish. Giving him a small nod, she turned and walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. Because no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, she couldn't ignore the truth-
Kartikey was slipping past her defenses. And she was terrified of what that meant.
As she stepped outside, the cool air hit her face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her. She was too aware of the eyes that followed her, the way whispers seemed to weave around her, suffocating her. The news about Kartikey carrying her to the infirmary had spread like wildfire, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Was it just a matter of time before someone told her family? Would her grandfather receive a call from a nosy relative? The thought made her stomach twist painfully.
She quickened her pace towards the dance studio, needing a moment of solitude, but her thoughts refused to settle. Priya's words kept looping in her head, each repetition making her more restless.
"Tum dono kabhi alag nahi baithe."
Had it really been that obvious? Had she unknowingly started seeking his presence too? She thought back to all the moments-his lingering glances, his subtle ways of making sure she was comfortable, his unwavering support in discussions. It wasn't just coincidence, was it?
Her hands clenched into fists as she pulled open the studio door. She needed to stop thinking about this. She needed to focus. But just as she entered the dance studio, her phone buzzed.
Kartikey: Suno, be careful while practicing aur tension mat lo. Koi bhi problem ho toh, bata sakti ho. (Don't take tension, if there's any problem, you can tell me.)
She stared at the message, her heart pounding.
He knew. He had seen through her. Again.
And the worst part? A small, traitorous part of her didn't mind it.
Anshika knew something was different. She wasn't naive enough to ignore the way her heart raced when Kartikey was around, but she also wasn't foolish enough to believe it meant anything. She convinced herself-again and again-that she was overthinking.
Maybe he was just nice. Maybe he was just this way with everyone.
And yet, the way he treated her wasn't the way he treated others. She had seen how he was with his friends-playful, teasing, loud. With her, he was careful, deliberate, always watching, always aware. He never crossed a boundary, never pushed too far.
It was confusing.
She tried not to think about it too much, but college had a way of forcing thoughts upon her.
That evening, as she walked past the campus canteen, she overheard a few girls talking.
"Kartikey toh sab ke saath friendly hai."
"Haan yaar, kitni ladkiyon ko pata bhi nahi chalta ki woh sabke saath aise hi behave karta hai."
"Kartikey is friendly with everyone."
"True, so many girls don't know he behaves like this with everyone."
Anshika froze.
Her fingers clenched around the strap of her bag, heartbeat drumming in her ears. The words settled inside her like a seed of doubt. Had she imagined it all? The way he looked at her? The way his voice softened when he said her name? The way he always seemed to find her in a crowded hallway? Her heart clenched. Was she just another one of them? Was she reading too much into his actions?
She turned before she could overthink again, before she could let herself feel too much.
Anshika walked away briskly, her mind a tangled mess of doubt and frustration. Her feet moved on their own, leading her to the one place that had always felt a little safe-the old peepal tree behind the library. It stood tall and steady, its wide branches shielding her from the world. She had lost count of the number of times she had sat here, escaping the noise, seeking a moment of peace.
As she sank onto the familiar patch of grass, she exhaled deeply, pressing her back against the rough bark. The cool evening breeze rustled the leaves, bringing with it the faint scent of old books from the library. For a moment, she simply closed her eyes, trying to gather herself, to silence the thoughts that refused to let her breathe.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a small bar of dark chocolate-her guilty pleasure, her comfort.
Her heart stilled for a moment before picking up speed again. Kartikey had given it to her earlier today, a casual gesture, like he had known she'd need it. But now it felt anything but.
Anshika unwrapped the chocolate slowly, breaking off a small piece and placing it on her tongue. The bitterness spread across her taste buds, rich and intense, but instead of calming her, it only made her feel everything more.
Kartikey.
She couldn't ignore it anymore. The way her heart twisted at the thought of him, the way his presence lingered even when he wasn't around. She wanted to believe she was imagining things, that it was all in her head, but the way she reacted to him told her otherwise.
She thought of the way he had looked at her in the infirmary, the way his brows had drawn together in worry when she had winced in pain. The way his voice had softened when he told her to take care. The way he always noticed, always paid attention.
Was she really just another girl to him?
Another bite of chocolate, another flood of emotions she didn't want to name. She closed her eyes, letting the cool evening breeze brush against her skin.
She didn't know what to do with these feelings. She didn't know if she wanted to run from them or hold onto them. But what she did know was that Kartikey had a way of making her feel seen, and that was the scariest thing of all.
The girls' words echoed in her ears, intertwining with memories of Kartikey-his text, his unwavering presence, his careful attentiveness. Was she foolish to believe she was special? Had she been naive to think that his actions meant something more?
She sighed, frustration and uncertainty fighting within her. She didn't want to feel this way. She didn't want to overthink every little thing, to question every interaction, but how could she not? She had spent her whole life being cautious, keeping her distance, knowing that getting too close could lead to trouble and hurt. And yet.
Was she imagining it all?
She broke off another piece of chocolate and stared up at the sky, watching as the orange of the sunset began to peek through it. Maybe she was being silly. Maybe she needed to stop analyzing everything and just let things be.
But what if-what if just this once, she let herself hope?
The thought was dangerous, tempting, and it made her heart, beat just a little faster.
And yet, as the wind whispered through the branches, Anshika couldn't bring herself to shake it away.
Anshika sat beneath the old peepal tree, her arms wrapped around her knees as the evening breeze played with the loose strands of her hair. The world felt too loud, too overwhelming, and she just needed a moment of quiet—a moment where she didn't have to think, didn't have to feel so much.
Footsteps crunched against the dry leaves. She knew who it was even before he spoke.
Kartikey.
He didn't say anything as he sat down beside her, leaving just enough space between them to not intrude but close enough to let her know he was there. The quiet stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it made her more aware of his presence—the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the cool air.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Anshika found herself staring at the half-eaten chocolate in her hands, her thoughts a tangled mess. She wasn't sure if she wanted to speak, but at the same time, Kartikey's silence felt like an open door, an unspoken invitation to let go.
A comfortable silence stretched between them, the kind that didn't demand words but offered quiet understanding.
After a few minutes, Kartikey spoke, his voice soft and careful. "Kya chal raha hai tumhare dimaag mein?"Â
"What's going on in your mind?"
Anshika exhaled softly. "Nothing."
Kartikey sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Mujhe nahi pata how to make you believe this, but you can trust me. I'm here to listen, at least. Tum mujhse share karna kabhi regret nahi karogi."
"I don't know how to make you believe this, you will never regret sharing anything with me."
Anshika didn't respond immediately. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, fingers playing with her bracelet. She wasn't sure if she had the words for what she was feeling.
A part of her wanted to talk, to let him in. Another part screamed at her to keep her distance.
Something in his voice—his certainty, his patience—chipped at her resolve.Â
Her throat tightened. She wanted to believe him.
She exhaled shakily, her voice quieter than usual. "You are like this with everyone?"
Kartikey frowned slightly, his head tilting. "Tumhe kya lagta hai? Main sabke saath aisa hoon?"
"What do you think? I'm like this with everyone?"
She hesitated before shrugging. "Mujhe nahi pata. You have so many friends, everyone is your friend. Why me?"
"I don't know."
A shadow of something flickered across Kartikey's face—uncertainty, maybe doubt. He looked away for a second, running a hand through his hair before answering. "Main sabse baat karta hoon, iska matlab yeh nahi ki sab mere dost hain. They think they are, but honestly, I only have a few friends, and you are one of them, but I care about you a little more than everyone else."
"Just because i talk to everyone, doesn't mean they all are my friends."
Anshika's heart skipped a beat at his words, her breath hitched but she forced herself to stay composed. "Par kyun?"
"But why?"
A flicker of hesitation passed through his eyes, so quick she almost missed it. But it was there. A moment of vulnerability. He swallowed, jaw tensing as though weighing his next words carefully.
"Why not?" he countered gently. "Kya hum dost nahi hain? Did I cross a line, I shouldn't have?"
"Aren't we friends?"
She quickly shook her head. "Nahi... par—"
"No... But—"
He waited, patient.
She hesitated before finally whispering, "Sab baat kar rahe hain humare baare mein."
"Everyone is talking about us."
Kartikey was quiet for a moment before he asked, "It matters to you that much?"
Anshika let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. She didn't need to answer, her silence was enough.
Kartikey shifted closer, just a fraction. Not enough to overwhelm, but enough for her to feel his presence, steady and unwavering. "Koi baat nahi," he said gently. "Take your time. Bas ek baat kahun? Itna mat socho, especially doosron ke baare mein. It's your choice. Agar tumhe nahi lagta ki hum dost reh sakte hain, toh main force nahi karunga."
"It's okay, take your time. I'll just say one thing, don't overthink so much especially about others. It's your choice. If you think we can't be friends, then I won't force you."
His voice was calm, understanding. But there was something else there too—a quiet hesitation, as if he was holding himself back.
She looked up at him then, his expression open, honest. And for the first time in a long time, she felt seen—not as someone who had to follow rules, not as someone constantly burdened by expectations, but just as Anshika.
Kartikey had seen through her fears, her doubts. And yet, he had left the choice entirely in her hands.
And somehow, that made her feel even closer to him.
The sun had almost set, casting an orange glow over the campus. The whispers of the world still loomed over her, but sitting there with Kartikey, they didn't seem as suffocating.
Maybe—just maybe—this wasn't something she had to run from.
Kartikey watched Anshika carefully, his brows slightly drawn together. The hesitation in her eyes, the uncertainty—it was all there, right in front of him. He exhaled softly before speaking.
"Chalein? Main drop kar du tumhe?" His voice was quiet, careful.
"Let's go? I'll drop you?"
Anshika shook her head, glancing down at the patch of grass beneath her. "Nahi... mujhe yahan thodi der aur baithna hai."
"No... I want to sit here for sometime."
Kartikey nodded, understanding the weight of her words. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Main rukoon ya tumhe akela chhod du?"
"Should I stay or do you want to be alone?"
She didn't reply, but after a moment, she gave a small shake of her head, not meeting his eyes. She wanted to be alone, but she also wasn't ready to be alone.
Kartikey understood.
"Theek hai," he said softly. No more words, no questions, just quiet acceptance. He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets, and took a slow step back. His eyes lingered on her for a brief moment before he turned and walked away, his footsteps light against the grass.
"Ok."
As he walked, his thoughts were a tangled mess.
Anshika's questions still echoed in his mind. "You are like this with everyone?" It stung more than it should have. He had always been aware of how people saw him—friendly, easygoing, someone who got along with everyone. But with her, it was different. He had never thought he needed to prove that.
He cared about her. More than he should, maybe. More than he could say.
She was overthinking, worrying about what others were saying. And he got it. He truly did. But for once, he wished she would just trust him without questioning why.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe she needed time. Maybe she needed space. He could give her that.
But that didn't mean he would stop caring.
Not now. Not ever.
Kartikey had barely taken a few steps before he realized—he wasn't really walking away.
Physically? Maybe. But his mind was stuck, tangled in the words Anshika had left him with.
"You are like this with everyone?"
Her voice echoed in his head, a quiet yet sharp accusation that refused to let go. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe because he hadn't expected her to doubt him like that. Maybe because, for the first time, he was forced to wonder—was he making things difficult for her?
He had always been aware of the stares, the whispers. People loved to talk, especially in college, where rumors spread faster than wildfire. But he had never cared before. Why would he?
But Anshika did.
And that changed everything.
As he walked through his dimly lit house, Kartikey barely acknowledged the greetings from his parents. His mind was elsewhere, stuck on the way Anshika had hesitated, the way she had looked at him—like she wasn't sure if she could believe him.
Was he making her uncomfortable?
The thought unsettled him. He never wanted that. Not with her.
Dropping onto his bed, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He had been careful, hadn't he? He had never crossed a line. Never forced her to talk, never expected anything more than what she was willing to give. But had he still made things difficult for her?
His fingers tightened around his bedsheet as a frustrated sigh left him.
He had always thought she knew. That she understood.
But maybe she didn't.
Maybe he needed to step back.
Maybe, just maybe, he needed to let her go a little.
🌻
Anshika lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, the glow of the streetlight outside casting shifting shadows in her room. Sleep refused to come.
Her mind was too loud.
Her thoughts too tangled.
Everything from earlier played on a loop in her head. The whispers in college, the pointed looks, her friends' endless questions.
And Kartikey.
Always Kartikey.
She turned onto her side, hugging her pillow close. Why did he care so much?
She had wanted to ask him that, but she hadn't. Because she was scared of the answer.
She wasn't used to this—someone being there, someone seeing her even when she didn't want to be seen. And the worst part? A part of her liked it. Liked the way he made her feel less alone, liked the way he didn't push but never really left either.
But the world wasn't so simple.
"Sab baat kar rahe hain humare baare mein."
The words felt heavier now than they had when she said them. She had seen the way Kartikey's jaw had tightened, the way his eyes had flickered with something she couldn't quite place.
Had she hurt him?
Did it matter?
A sigh escaped her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut. It mattered. Of course, it mattered.
She wasn't blind. She had seen the way he treated her, the way he was always there, the way he spoke to her like she was someone who mattered.
"Tum mujhse share karna kabhi regret nahi karogi."
His words had been soft, certain. But she wasn't sure. Because letting someone in, allowing them to see her fears, her insecurities—it was terrifying.
Yet, as much as she wanted to pull away, she couldn't ignore the warmth his presence brought. The way he made her feel safe, understood, even without saying much.
But was that enough?
Could she let herself believe that?
Turning onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, her heart a mess of confusion.
For the past few days, Kartikey had been... distant. Not in an obvious way, but enough for Anshika to notice.
He still acknowledged her presence with a polite nod when they crossed paths. Still spoke to her when necessary. But the teasing remarks, the playful smirks, the lingering glances, the way he always seemed to be around—the casual way he always managed to be around her, whether in the library or near the dance hall, those had disappeared.
She should have felt relieved. She had wanted this, hadn't she? The space, the breathing room, the chance to sort through her own emotions without his presence muddling everything.
But then why did it feel... odd?
Her eyes involuntarily searched for him during breaks, lingering for just a moment longer when she saw him laughing with someone else. He looked... unbothered. Like nothing had changed.
But something had.
Her mind kept replaying the last time they'd spoken—had she been too curt? Too dismissive? She had only been trying to create some space, to stop herself from feeling whatever this was. But now that he had actually given her that space, why did it feel so suffocating?
At lunch, her friends were talking about something she barely registered. Her attention was elsewhere—on the other side of the cafeteria, where Kartikey stood, casually leaning against a table, talking to some juniors. He was laughing at something, his dimples flashing effortlessly.
Her fingers curled around her water bottle as a familiar feeling tugged at her.
Why was she watching him? Kya farq padta hai agar woh doosron se baat kar raha hai? He had every right to. She had been the one keeping him at a distance.
She quickly looked away, but not before her friend Priya caught her staring.
"Tu itni shant kyun hai? Aur abhi jo chal raha hai tere dimaag mein, woh bhi bata," Priya asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Why are you so quiet? And spill whatever is going on your mind,"
"Kuch nahi," Anshika muttered, picking at her food.
"Nothing,"
Priya didn't buy it. "Kuch nahi as in 'mujhe sach mein kuch nahi pata' ya 'mujhe sab pata hai but main accept nahi karungi'?"
"Nothing as in you really don't know anything or you know but won't accept it?"
"Voh toh tujhe hi batana padega, waise aaj kal woh tere aas paas nahi dikhta."
"You tell me, he is not around you these days."
That struck a nerve. "Toh?"
"So?"
Priya shrugged, but her smile didn't fade. "Bas pooch rahi thi. Tu toh pehle bhi keh rahi thi ki tu usse door rehna chahti hai. Waise, ab koi problem toh nahi ho rahi na?"
"I was just asking. This is what you wanted right. So, there shouldn't be a problem?
Anshika wanted to say no. To shrug it off and move on.
But the lump in her throat, the restlessness in her chest, the way her gaze kept betraying her—it all told a different story.
"Tu sunn rahi hai na?" Priya snapped her fingers in front of Anshika's face.
"Are you listening?"
"Huh?" She blinked, realizing she had been staring—at him.
His easy confidence, the way he fit so seamlessly into every group, made her feel all the more ridiculous for noticing his absence.
"Tu phir se waha dekh rahi hai." Meera said sympathetically.
"You're looking there again."
"Nahi!" Anshika said a little too quickly, focusing hard on her plate.
"No!"
Priya sighed dramatically. "Baar baar mana karegi, toh tu hi soch, kitna bhagega tere piche?"
"If you keep denying again and again, then think, for how long will he run behind you?"
"Priya!" Anshika sighed, but her heart clenched at the words.
Kitna bhagega? Kya voh sach mein—?
"Waise aaj bada busy lag raha hai tera favorite senior," Priya teased in a low voice.
"By the way, your favourite senior seems to be too busy today."
"I'm just saying, he always used to sit near your table na?"
Anshika frowned. Priya was right. He usually sat with them. He usually had some teasing remark ready, waiting to get a reaction out of her.
Now, he was at the other end, eating and chatting like it didn't make a difference.
It shouldn't make a difference.
But when someone passed a plate of pakoras toward him, and instead of offering it to her first—like he always did—he simply took one for himself and continued talking, she felt something strange twist in her chest.
She ignored it.
Or at least, she tried to.
She wanted distance.
Then why did her chest feel so heavy when he wasn't looking at her the way he used to?
Why did she keep telling herself it didn't matter—when it so obviously did?
Maybe he was pushing too much. Maybe Anshika truly didn't want him around.
Her hesitant replies, the way she always looked unsure when he spoke to her, the way she never met his eyes for too long—it all pointed to one thing. She wasn't comfortable. And the last thing he wanted was to make her feel that way.
So, he pulled back.
No more seeking her out in the library, no more casually waiting outside her class just to walk beside her for a few minutes. No more teasing remarks, no more stolen glances.
It wasn't easy, though.
Like now—he was in the canteen with his friends, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation, but his attention kept flickering. His eyes unconsciously searched for her, as if they had a mind of their own.
And there she was.
Sitting at a corner table, absentmindedly playing with the straw in her iced black coffee. Priya was talking animatedly beside her, but Anshika seemed... distracted.
Kartikey forced himself to look away, focus back on his friends. But then he heard a familiar voice—hers.
"Huh?"
Anshika blinked, jolting slightly, as if caught off guard.
Kartikey felt his grip tighten around his water bottle.
Meri taraf dekhogi bhi nahi?
His chest felt tight at the thought of fading into the background for her.
He still heard her soft voice in his head, even when he wasn't talking to her.
No matter how hard he tried, his eyes always found their way back to her.
Noticing her wasn't intentional either.
But then why did he immediately sense when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear? Why did he catch the way she lightly bit her lower lip in thought? Why did he still register the soft way she sighed when she got frustrated?
Kartikey had never considered himself the kind of guy who second-guessed his actions. But lately, around Anshika, everything felt... complicated.
Thank you so much for reading my book. It really means so so much to me and I will make sure that I am deserving of your support through my books🌻🫂❤️
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