The morning light felt heavier than usual - soft, golden, but carrying the kind of silence that made thoughts linger longer than they should.
Aarav sat on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair. The room still smelled faintly of rain and Aveer's cologne. It shouldn't have bothered him.
But it did.
Last night's argument replayed like a broken loop - the look in Aveer's eyes before he turned away, the sting in his voice when he spoke. It shouldn't matter.
He shouldn't matter.
And yet, something in the way Aveer had shut down, not angry this time, just tired - refused to leave him alone.
Aarav tried to shake it off. He opened his notes. He didn't read a single line.
"Why does this feel so… wrong?" he muttered. "He's the one who started it."
Aveer was still asleep, face half-buried in the pillow, the same blanket Aarav had left on him last night curled around him.
For a moment, Aarav watched quietly, the rise and fall of Aveer's breathing, the faint crease between his brows, the calm that looked almost unfamiliar.
He looked away before the thought could settle.
"Get a grip, Aarav," he whispered to himself. "You don't care."
But care had a strange way of slipping through the cracks.
---
Later that day, during break, Aarav spotted Arsh near the campus canteen, laughing with Aman.
Something tightened in his chest.
"Arsh!" Aarav called out, his tone sharper than intended.
Arsh turned, startled. "What's up, bro?"
"What was that yesterday?" Aarav asked, stepping closer. "That nonsense with Aveer in the mess. Who asked you to drag his name?"
Arsh blinked. "Dude, chill. It was just a joke. You told me the guy was a bit full of himself, so I…"
"I never told you to start a fight." Aarav's voice dropped, low and cold now. "You think you're funny, but you don't know what you're messing with."
Arsh scoffed. "You defending him now? The same guy you hated? What's this, sympathy arc?"
Aarav's jaw clenched. He wanted to say it wasn't that, that it wasn't pity, just… something else.
But the words wouldn't come.
"Just don't do that again," Aarav said instead, turning away. "He's not like that anymore."
Arsh raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're talking about him or yourself?"
Aarav didn't respond. He walked off, his heartbeat faster than it should have.
He hated this - this weird tension, this uninvited guilt.
---
And he didn't realize that a few steps away, someone had heard every word.
Aveer had come to return a borrowed file to Aman and stopped short when he saw Aarav speaking with Arsh.
He hadn't meant to listen.
But when he heard his name -
"don't do that again… he's not like that anymore"
Something inside him shifted.
He should've felt angry.
But he didn't.
All he felt was confusion.
Why would Aarav defend him? Why now, after all these years?
Aveer turned and walked away quietly, the weight in his chest both heavier and lighter at the same time.
Classes ended early, the sky already heavy with clouds again.
Aarav stood near the gate, scrolling through his phone, when something caught his eye - an umbrella leaning against the wall.
Aveer's.
He groaned. "Idiot forgot it again."
Before he could think twice, he grabbed it.
It wasn't concern - at least, that's what he told himself.
He just didn't want the guy coming back drenched and falling sick. That would only mean more tension. More unnecessary problems.
That's all.
The wind had already started to pick up as Aarav stepped out of the PG. The roads were crowded, the sky grey, a drizzle beginning to fall.
He spotted him not too far ahead - Aveer, walking fast, books tucked under his arm, his hair already damp.
Aarav quickened his pace, about to call out.
Then Aveer stopped.
A girl stood under a shade, long hair, an easy smile lighting up when she saw him.
Shivi.
Aarav had seen her once before outside the coaching.
Aveer smiled. Not the usual sharp, guarded one.
Something softer.
She said something. Aveer laughed quietly, and the two of them turned toward a nearby café.
Aarav stopped mid-step.
The umbrella suddenly felt heavier in his hand.
He could've called out. Could've walked over.
But his feet wouldn't move.
What was this?
Why did that smile - that ease - twist something in his chest?
He didn't even like the guy.
It shouldn't matter who he talked to, who he smiled at, who made him laugh like that.
And yet....
Aarav exhaled sharply.
"Pathetic. He can laugh with anyone he wants. None of my damn business."
He turned and walked back. The drizzle thickened into rain, cold drops hitting his face.
By the time he reached the PG, his shirt was half-soaked, and the umbrella he'd carried for someone else hung uselessly at his side.
He dropped it near the door and sat on his bed, staring at the window.
The city blurred into streaks of rain and passing headlights.
"Why does it bother me?" he muttered under his breath. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
But no answer came.
Just the steady rhythm of rain against the glass -
and a name he couldn't shake from his mind.
----
It was close to midnight when Aveer got back.
The streets were quiet, slick with rain, and for the first time in years, he actually felt… light.
Shivi had been easy to talk to. Her laughter didn't come with judgment, her questions didn't feel like traps.
He hadn't realized how much he'd missed feeling normal until today.
But the smile faded the moment he opened the door.
The lights were off. The air felt heavier than usual.
And there he was - Aarav - sitting on the edge of his bed, head bent low, the faint glow of his phone lighting half his face.
He didn't look up.
Aveer flicked on the dim lamp near his side of the bed...and paused.
The umbrella.
His.
Leaning neatly near the door.
"You went out?" Aveer asked, frowning.
Aarav's tone was flat, defensive. "You forgot this. I thought you'd need it."
"You… came to give me my umbrella?" The surprise slipped out before Aveer could stop it.
"Yeah," Aarav said, a little too quickly. "Don't read into it. I just didn't want you coming back drenched and whining about it later."
His voice was calm - but something in it cracked halfway through, like he wasn't entirely convincing himself.
Aveer took a few steps forward. "You waited here?"
"No," Aarav said, though his eyes gave him away. "Just got back a while ago."
Aveer noticed the stiffness in his movements - the slight tremor in his hand as he set his phone down.
"Are you okay?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm fine."
He clearly wasn't. Aveer reached out before he could stop himself, his palm brushing against Aarav's forehead.
Aarav flinched.
"Aarav, you're burning up."
"I said I'm fine, Aveer," he muttered, voice rougher now. "Go… go to sleep."
Aveer didn't listen.
He grabbed the water bottle, soaked a hand towel, and pressed it gently against Aarav's forehead.
Aarav tried to push his hand away, but his strength faltered halfway.
"Don't be stubborn for once," Aveer muttered, adjusting the towel. "You look like you'll pass out any second."
Aarav gave a tired chuckle. "Didn't know you cared."
"I don't," Aveer said quickly, though his hand didn't move. "I just don't want a dead roommate."
The silence that followed was heavy. The kind that carried everything neither of them dared to say.
Half-conscious, Aarav murmured, "You shouldn't have stayed out so late… with her."
Aveer stilled. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing," Aarav said faintly, eyes closing. "Forget I said that."
Aveer stared at him.
A long moment passed.
Aarav's breathing slowed, his face softening under the dim light.
The anger Aveer had been carrying since the day they met again suddenly felt… smaller. Useless.
He sat beside the bed - telling himself it was just for a minute. Just until he was sure Aarav was okay.
But the minute stretched into an hour.
Somewhere between the hum of the fan and the distant rumble of thunder, Aveer realized he hadn't looked away once.
Aarav looked peaceful.
Almost like the person Aveer used to know - before everything went wrong.
The faint hum of birds pulled Aveer out of half-sleep. For a second, he forgot where he was.
Then he saw him.
Aarav, lying there under the blanket Aveer had thrown over him sometime before dawn, his face calm, the flush on his cheeks fading.
He looked… human again.
Not the arrogant boy he had argued with, not the ghost of his past.
Just a tired man sleeping through the morning light.
Aveer stretched, his neck stiff from spending the night on the edge of the bed. His hand still rested near Aarav's, close enough to feel the warmth through the blanket.
How long had i been sitting there like that?
The room felt different today.
Quieter. Softer.
Aarav stirred, groaning low. His eyes blinked open slowly, still hazy from fever but clear enough to see Aveer beside him.
"You—" he croaked. "You stayed?"
Aveer shrugged, pretending it was nothing. "Someone had to make sure you didn't die in your sleep."
A weak laugh escaped Aarav before slipping into a cough.
"You're bad at pretending you don't care, you know that?"
"Shut up," Aveer muttered, looking away. "I just didn't want the PG owner finding a corpse in our room."
"Sure," Aarav said softly, smiling—a small, genuine thing that didn't reach his eyes but still felt warm.
The silence that followed wasn't sharp anymore.
It was… bearable.
Aveer reached for the glass of water and held it out.
Aarav took it, his fingers brushing Aveer's by accident.
Just a second. Nothing more.
But it sent something flickering through Aveer's chest—something he didn't have a name for.
Aarav noticed it too.
Neither of them spoke.
The morning light slipped through the half-drawn curtains, painting the room gold. The air carried the faint scent of dampness, tea brewing somewhere downstairs, and something quieter settling between them.
Aarav cleared his throat. "You should… get ready. You'll be late for coaching."
"I know," Aveer said, standing up. "Try not to faint again while I'm gone."
Aarav smiled faintly. "Noted."
Aveer turned toward the door, but before stepping out, he paused.
For the first time since they had met again, he didn't feel angry when he looked at Aarav.
Just… something he couldn't push away.
Soon after Aveer left, a knock echoed on the door, breaking the fragile calm.
Aarav looked up, still sitting on the bed, when the door creaked open.
Arsh and Aman stepped in, balancing a tray between them - a flask of tea, toast, and a small bowl of fruits.
"Morning, sick boy," Arsh said with a grin. "Got you breakfast delivery, courtesy of your roommate."
Aarav frowned. "What?"
Aman chuckled, setting the tray on the table. "Yeah, Aveer came down before leaving for coaching. Asked us to bring this up for you."
"He said you wouldn't eat if someone didn't make you," Arsh added, tone softer now. "Guess he knows you better than you think."
Aarav blinked, words caught in his throat. "He....he asked you to do this?"
Arsh nodded. "Yeah. And before you say it, no, he didn't threaten us. He actually said please."
The word hung in the air like something impossible.
Aarav stared at the tray - the steam rising from the tea, the neat way the food was set, as if Aveer had cared enough to make sure it was done right.
"He really said please?" Aarav asked again, half to himself.
"Yep," Aman replied, smiling faintly. "Didn't look like he wanted to, though."
They both laughed lightly before heading out, leaving Aarav alone with his disbelief.
The room felt quiet again, but this time it wasn't empty, it was full of something he couldn't explain.
He stared at the tray for a long time, running a hand through his hair, still trying to understand what this was.
Yesterday, Aveer had called him a jerk.
This morning, he'd stayed up taking care of him. Now, he'd sent breakfast.
Aarav let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the wall. His heart felt too full for a reason that had nothing to do with fever.
The coaching building buzzed with the usual morning chaos when Aveer walked in - students hurrying down the hall, the air thick with the smell of wet notebooks and instant coffee.
He glanced at the clock above the door.
9:10 a.m.
Great. Late again.
Shivi spotted him first, waving from the back row. "Look who finally decided to show up!"
Beside her, Reyansh smirked, spinning his pen between his fingers. "What happened, lover boy? Missed your alarm or someone kept you up all night?"
Aveer dropped his bag onto the desk. "Someone had fever. I had to take care of him."
Reyansh raised an eyebrow. "Him? As in your mysterious roommate? The one you keep calling a jerk?"
"Yeah," Aveer muttered, flipping through his notes. "Don't read too much into it. He would've died if I didn't help."
Shivi leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Aveer Singh playing Florence Nightingale for his enemy? That's a first."
"It wasn't like that," he said quickly, though his voice cracked just enough for them to notice.
Reyansh laughed. "Sure, sure. You only stayed up all night for a guy you 'don't care about.' Sounds completely logical."
"Exactly," Shivi teased. "Next thing you'll tell us you made him soup and tucked him in."
"Can you both shut up and let me study?" Aveer said, half-smiling despite himself.
Shivi leaned back with a grin. "We're just saying, Aveer. People don't lose sleep over someone unless they feel something."
Aveer rolled his eyes. "You two seriously need new hobbies."
But even as he said it, his mind flicked back to last night - the heat of Aarav's skin under his hand, the way his voice had gone quiet when Aveer told him to rest.
He shook the thought off, pretending to focus on the whiteboard.
Reyansh elbowed him lightly. "See? You're blushing."
"I'm not," Aveer said too fast.
Shivi laughed softly. "Whatever you say, Mr. Denial."
The lecture started, voices dimming around him, but Aveer barely heard a word.
Their jokes shouldn't have mattered, they were ridiculous.
And yet, for reasons he couldn't explain, the sound of Aarav's voice kept echoing in his head.
---
The evening sky was pale gold when classes ended.
Aveer had picked up a few medicines from the pharmacy nearby, stuffing them in his bag along with a small parcel of food.
Shivi and Reyansh walked beside him, chatting about random things.
"You're taking food for your roommate?" Reyansh asked, smirking.
"He's still a little sick," Aveer said, keeping his tone neutral.
Shivi grinned. "And you say you don't care about him."
"Can we not start again?" Aveer muttered, though a faint smile slipped out.
---
When they reached the PG, the corridor was quiet except for the hum of a ceiling fan somewhere.
Aveer unlocked the room.
Aarav was sitting on the bed, reading through his notes, his hair still damp from a shower.
He looked up, surprise flickering across his face when he saw who was with Aveer.
"You brought guests?" Aarav asked dryly.
"Brought dinner," Aveer replied, holding up the packet. "You didn't eat lunch."
Shivi smiled politely. "Hi, I'm Shivi, his classmate."
Aarav nodded stiffly. "Oh, so you're the one from the coffee shop."
The words were calm, but the tone...wasn't.
Reyansh chuckled awkwardly. "We just dropped by. He insisted on buying you this, by the way."
"Did he?" Aarav said, glancing at Aveer. "That's… new."
Before Aveer could respond, Shivi chimed in, oblivious to the tension. "He's been taking care of everyone lately. Did you know he can't drink tea without two spoons of sugar? And he gets headaches if he skips breakfast."
Aarav's jaw tightened. "No, I didn't," he said, voice clipped. "Guess you know him better than I do."
The air shifted.
Reyansh caught it instantly. "Okay, okay, time to leave before this turns into a family drama."
Shivi laughed softly, then turned to Aveer. "You can drop me home, right? It's getting late."
"Yeah, of course," Aveer said without thinking.
Aarav didn't say anything but his face said otherwise.
---
Later that night.
The room was dim when Aveer came back, streetlights bleeding through the curtains.
Aarav sat by the window, arms crossed, staring out.
"You didn't have to wait up," Aveer said, setting his bag down.
He didn't turn around. "Didn't plan to. Couldn't sleep."
Aveer sighed. "What's your problem now?"
"My problem?" Aarav turned, eyes sharp. "Maybe the fact that you suddenly turned into the Florence Nightingale of Lucknow. Running around with your new friends, playing caretaker. Didn't know you had so much free time instead of studying."
Aveer blinked. "You're jealous?"
Aarav laughed - short, humorless. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Then what is it?" Aveer shot back. "You hate me for caring, you hate me for ignoring, you hate me for breathing. Pick one."
"I don't…" Aarav stopped mid-sentence, fists clenched. "You wouldn't get it."
"Try me," Aveer said quietly.
Aarav met his eyes for a brief moment, then turned away.
"Forget it. Just go to sleep."
Aveer wanted to argue but the weight in his voice stopped him.
The room fell silent.
Neither of them spoke.
Aarav - He says i hate him, maybe i do. But if hate feels this heavy, this restless, then why does it sound so much like longing?
Aveer - He can't even look me in the eye, yet somehow his silence burns louder than the words ever could. Maybe the past isn't the only thing we're both afraid of anymore.
Maybe hate was easier to say aloud, because admitting it was jealousy would make it real.
To be continued...