Bonfire nights were supposed to be fun.
Warm lights. Good snacks. Chill music.
What no one told me was that sitting next to your brother's best friend while he casually sings along to an Arijit song would be classified as emotional torture.
Especially when he's wearing a hoodie. With the sleeves pushed up. And he keeps passing you roasted marshmallows like it's no big deal.
"Why are you staring at the fire like it insulted your entire bloodline?" Aarav asked, leaning closer.
I snapped out of it. "I'm thinking."
"About what? Life? Love? Whether the marshmallow is too burnt?"
I stared at him. He grinned.
"It's the marshmallow, isn't it?" he teased.
I rolled my eyes and reached for another one, just as he did too—and our fingers brushed again.
That stupid, electric, slow-burn finger brush. We were on, like, brush number eleven this week and my heart still hadn't learned how to behave.
---
Across from us, Rishi was too busy arguing with someone about cricket to notice the silent chaos that was me.
"Hey," Aarav said, quietly now. "Want to go walk by the water? It's loud here."
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
---
The beach was quiet, and our sandals left crooked trails in the sand as we walked.
"You're quieter than usual," he said.
"Maybe I'm just tired."
"Or maybe," he said, stepping closer, "you're nervous around me."
I stopped walking.
"Nervous?" I scoffed. "Please. I've known you since you had a bowl cut and wore Scooby-Doo boxers."
He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, fair. But you're still kinda fidgety tonight."
I looked up at him, the firelight from the bonfire glowing faintly behind us. His expression had changed—playful, but softer now. Curious. Intent.
"You're not the only one who's changed, Tapu," he said, voice low.
I swallowed. "You really have a habit of saying things that make me question my entire life."
"Only yours?" he said.
And for one terrifying second, it felt like he was going to lean in.
But then—
"AARAV!"
Rishi's voice cut through the night. "Come help me fight this guy about Kohli's stats!"
Aarav sighed, looked at me, and grinned.
"Saved by the bro," I muttered.
"Every time," he whispered back, before jogging away—leaving me with sand between my toes and butterflies everywhere else.