POV: Rithul
Vin was never good at hiding excitement.
He had just stepped out of the restroom, hands still damp from washing his face, when he noticed her rush past the corridor with a glow on her face — cheeks flushed, eyes shining, her steps oddly… floaty. Something had happened.
"Vin?" he called out, half curious, half cautious.
She turned, her backpack half-open, and in her hand — tissues… snacks? Her lips curled into a smirk, like she was bursting with something she wasn't allowed to tell yet.
"They finally kissed," she whispered in a rush, "In the haunted block. Max and Ram. It was beautiful, Rithul. You should've seen them. We all did."
And just like that, time paused for him.
The air left his lungs. The corridor buzzed with distant chatter, footsteps, the clank of a classroom door — but none of it reached him. Everything blurred around the edges except for that one line repeating in his head like an echo chamber:
"Max and Ram… finally kissed."
He didn't even reply.
He turned back. Walked straight into the restroom again. Locked the door behind him.
The mirror didn't show him shock — it showed surrender.
He braced his palms against the sink, breathing hard, not trusting his own reflection. He had no right to be hurt. Not really. He was the one who smiled a little too much when Max laughed at his jokes. The one who always stood two steps behind her, always waiting, hoping she'd glance back.
But she never did — not truly.
He splashed cold water on his face. Once. Twice. It stung, not because it was freezing, but because it couldn't wash away the silent pain seated deep in his chest.
A tear betrayed him anyway, collecting in the corner of his eye before it fell quietly onto the marble.
"Damn it," he whispered to himself, gripping the edge of the sink tighter. "It's not even a heartbreak. She was never mine to lose."
Still, it hurt.
She was the light — the one he waited for at the end of long days, the warmth in chaotic moments, the quiet peace he never admitted out loud.
He wiped his face, composed himself. Pulled his hoodie on like a shield. Then he walked out.
He found Vin again. She smiled wide and handed him a biscuit. "Still sad?" she teased lightly, clearly trying to ease the tension.
Rithul gave a lopsided smile, leaning against the wall. "Sad? I'm just waiting for them to break up. I mean, nine years of one-sided love? That's... unhealthy," he joked.
Vin rolled her eyes, hitting his shoulder. "You're so dramatic."
"I mean it," he said with a smirk. "Max will see the light. And that light is me."
"Idiot," Vin chuckled, though she paused when she noticed a certain softness in his voice that didn't match his words.
But Rithul had already shifted, masking it again with playful arrogance. "Anyway, tell the happy couple not to get too used to their fairy tale. Second leads are trending, you know."
Yet that night, alone in his hostel bed, the lights out and only the soft hum of a fan filling the silence, Rithul lay awake.
His phone buzzed with photos — Vin had sent a blurry one of Max blushing after the kiss, Ram's face lit up like he finally breathed after years of holding it in. Kitty had commented: "It's official now 💗."
Rithul locked the screen. Turned his head to the wall.
He wasn't angry.
He was just... the kind of person who gave quietly, loved deeply, and never asked for anything in return.
In his notebook, he scribbled something without thinking:
> "Some people are written into your story,
But they will never reach the ending with you."
He shut the notebook and curled tighter into his blanket.
He was Rithul — the boy who would always smile at her from the corner of the frame, even if she never looked his way again.
And yet…
He whispered into the dark, "If he ever hurts you, I'll be here. Always."
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