Chapter 9 – Everything, Slowly
The semester slipped into its final month, dragging deadlines and exam tension behind it. But in between all the chaos, something was quietly blooming—something soft and slow between Mehar and Aarav.
They still hadn't labeled what they were.
They didn't talk about love. They didn't talk about being together. But their lives had begun to mold around each other in small, irreversible ways.
She waited for him before class. He showed up at her doorstep with coffee on days she had extra classes. They sent each other memes and voice notes and midnight playlists. Their conversations were casual, but their silences? They were intimate.
One Thursday evening, Aarav walked her home after rehearsals. They'd been laughing over something ridiculous—probably a failed group presentation.
As they reached her gate, he paused. "I keep waiting for the moment where I finally stop liking you more every day."
She raised an eyebrow. "No luck yet?"
He smiled. "Not even close."
She didn't say anything. Just looked at him for a long second before quietly saying, "You're not the only one."
For Aarav, that felt like a confession. For Mehar, it was the bravest she'd allowed herself to be.
—
Inside her room, Mehar stared at the ceiling long after midnight.
She thought about the way he looked at her. As if she were more than enough.
But a voice in her head always whispered: What if it ends? What if he gets bored? What if it fades?
She had seen too many promises break. She had watched her own parents fall out of love. She had stitched pieces of herself after friendships that left her bleeding.
So she told herself not to hope. Not to trust. Not yet.
But her heart had already started writing chapters her mind wasn't ready for.
—
A week later, they were sitting in the back corner of the library.
Mehar was buried in notes. Aarav was pretending to read.
Without looking up, she said, "You're staring."
"Guilty."
"What are you thinking?"
He shrugged. "That I'd rather be nowhere else."
She didn't respond. Just turned another page, cheeks flushed.
But he kept watching.
Because he didn't need her to say anything. Her presence had always said more than her words ever could.
—
At a group event later that week, someone asked Aarav, "Is she your girlfriend?"
He looked across the room at Mehar—head tilted in laughter, light in her eyes.
And he replied, "Not yet. But she's already everything."