Narrated by Her (Editor Girl)
It was my idea this time.
"Let's meet somewhere different," I texted Ayan on Friday evening. "Not the usual cafe. I found a new spot—quieter, more... storyworthy."
He replied with his usual minimalism."Ok."
No emojis. No excitement. Just a plain "Ok."
But he showed up.
Sunday afternoon, just after 4, we sat across from each other at a small tea place tucked into a forgotten corner of Noida. The type of place that didn't care about aesthetics — but served the kind of chai that reminded you of simpler days. Or simpler people.
He looked like he hadn't slept well. Slightly puffy eyes, half-buttoned shirt, and that usual sense of someone carrying a thousand stories on his back — some he hadn't even unpacked for himself yet.
I stirred my chai.
"So… what's today's story, storyteller?" I asked, raising a brow.
Ayan leaned back, closed his eyes for a second like he was scrolling through an internal library, and then quietly said:
"I was 16."
His voice dropped slightly, the way it always did when he was about to confess something embarrassing.
**"It was summer vacation. I was staying at my aunt's house — the usual plan when school's off and your own home feels a little too routine. At her place, every afternoon, a bunch of neighborhood girls came over for Arabic classes — to study.
I didn't care. I wasn't part of those sessions.
But there was this girl. She used to look at me. Then one day… she started talking to me."**
I smiled a little at the way he said it. That tone — like he was still confused by why anyone would talk to him willingly.
**"I was shy. More than shy. Around girls? I didn't even function. I used to leave rooms the second a girl entered but she… she stayed longer. Started sitting near me. Asked unnecessary questions just to keep the conversation going.
"One day, we were alone in the room. My aunt had stepped out. Just me and her."Ayan paused, his voice turning quieter.
"She looked at me, stood up… and I panicked. Just bolted out of the room like some cheap horror movie had started. Didn't even give her a chance to say anything."
I blinked. "You ran out of your own aunt's house?"
"Yup."
"What happened next?"
"Next day, we were all together — me, my cousin, my cousin sisters… and Alisha. Sitting around, talking. I was on my phone, not really paying attention. And that's when it happened."
He scratched his head, sheepishly.
"I felt someone stroking my hair. Just casually. Gently. Didn't even register it at first because I was scrolling through YouTube or something. But then I looked up — and it was her. Alisha."
My mouth dropped open slightly."She did that in front of everyone?"
He nodded.
"I didn't even react. I just froze. I think my brain said 'blue screen error' and gave up."
I couldn't help but laugh. "And you didn't say anything? Not even after?"
"Nope. I went home early the next day. Didn't go back."
I stared at him. "You... escaped again?"
He looked at me, dead serious."I'm consistent like that."
"So let me get this straight," I said, trying not to laugh, "You had a girl interested in you, she made the first move… and you bailed?"
"I was scared," he replied. "I didn't know what to do. She was older, confident, had that—what do you call it—feminine dominance energy? I wasn't built for it. I just wanted to go home."
I took a sip of chai, studying him quietly.
"You're still like that," I said.
He looked confused. "Like what?"
"Scared. Not of girls. Just… of people who care too much. Or get too close."
Ayan didn't say anything to that.
And for a while, we just sat there, letting the air between us fill with stories that didn't need to be spoken. I could tell that story embarrassed him — but he still told it. For me.
It made me feel special.
He didn't realize it, but every week, with every tale, every layer he shed — I wasn't just getting to know the boy he was…
I was slowly falling for the man he became because of those stories.
Later, while walking me to the metro, I bumped his arm lightly.
"You know... if I stroked your hair right now, would you run again?"
He turned his face away, hiding that smile I had started to memorize.
"No," he said softly."But I might blush."