The lecture eventually ended.
Aanya closed her notebook with a tired sigh.
Around them, chairs scraped against the floor as everyone began packing up.
Sagnik stretched slightly in his seat.
"That was painful."
"You didn't listen."
"I listened."
"You wrote four lines."
"They were important lines."
Aanya looked at his notebook.
There were, in fact, four lines.
She shook her head.
"You're hopeless."
"Still survived."
"Unfortunately."
He smiled.
They stood with the others and slowly made their way out of the classroom.
The corridor was crowded again.
Aanya walked beside him.
She could see the strap of his bag over his shoulder.
And, almost without meaning to, she thought about the sketchbook.
She hadn't forgotten it.
She was curious.
More curious than she wanted to admit.
Not because she expected anything extraordinary.
It was just a sketchbook.
Perhaps landscapes.
Buildings.
Random drawings he'd made when he was bored.
Maybe terrible attempts at portraits.
She smiled at the thought.
"You know," she said, "I'm still curious."
Sagnik glanced at her.
"About?"
"The sketchbook."
He smiled faintly.
"I know."
"You're really determined not to show me."
"Not exactly."
"Then why?"
He thought for a second.
"Because you're going to make fun of me."
Aanya's eyebrows lifted.
"That means there's something to make fun of."
"Maybe."
She laughed.
"Now you've made it worse."
"I know."
They continued down the corridor.
Aanya didn't ask again.
Later, they returned to the classroom for another lecture.
Sagnik placed his bag beside his chair.
Aanya sat down.
The professor hadn't arrived yet.
Their classmates were scattered around the room, talking.
Sagnik looked at his phone.
Then stood.
"I'll be back."
"Where?"
"Two minutes."
He walked out.
His bag remained beside her.
Aanya glanced at it.
Her eyes lingered for a moment.
The sketchbook was inside.
She knew it.
She could probably take it out.
Just look.
Just for a second.
Nobody would know.
Her hand moved slightly toward the bag.
Then stopped.
She looked at it.
And something inside her quietly said—
No.
Not because she was afraid of what she'd find.
Because she knew it wasn't hers to open.
If he wanted her to see it, he'd show her.
She withdrew her hand.
Instead, she picked up her pen.
A few minutes later, Sagnik returned.
He sat down.
Didn't ask what she'd been doing.
She didn't tell him.
The professor entered.
The lecture began.
And the sketchbook remained exactly where it had been.
Untouched.
By the end of the day, Aanya had almost convinced herself she had stopped thinking about it.
Almost.
They left the classroom together.
The sun was already beginning to lower.
Sagnik walked beside her.
"You've been quiet."
"So have you."
"That's different."
"How?"
"I don't know."
She smiled.
"Then it isn't."
He laughed softly.
They kept walking.
Aanya looked at him.
There were things she knew about Sagnik.
Things she had learned slowly.
His habits.
His silences.
The way he looked at people when he was listening.
The way he avoided talking about himself.
The things he kept hidden.
She had never minded that.
Not really.
Everyone deserved places that belonged only to them.
Even him.
Especially him.
So when he looked at her and said,
"You still want to see it?"
She paused.
"The sketchbook?"
He nodded.
Aanya smiled.
"Yeah."
He looked at her for a moment.
Then said,
"Maybe I'll show you."
She laughed.
"You've been saying that all day."
"I know."
"And?"
He smiled.
"Maybe tomorrow."
Aanya rolled her eyes.
"You're impossible."
He walked beside her, looking almost amused.
But his hand tightened slightly around the strap of his bag.
Aanya didn't notice.
She simply kept walking.