There are nights when silence speaks louder than words,
when pain rests quietly on someone's shoulder,
and when the world fades away… leaving only two souls.
This was one of those nights — the night we forgot the world.
Vihaan's POV :
I had only gotten up to fetch a glass of water. That was the plan—simple, quick, nothing unusual. But then my eyes found her. Shreya.
She was moving quietly, almost like a shadow drifting through the dim house. Her steps were soft, her presence unannounced, yet I caught the faint sound of the stairs creaking under her weight. I stilled.
I didn't need to ask where she was going. Nishant bhaiya had already told me about her new habit of slipping away to the terrace whenever she felt restless. He was worried, he'd confided in me, though he'd tried to mask it with his usual calmness. I'd caught the tremor in his voice. "She's not the same anymore, Vihaan. Keep an eye on her."
And so, when I saw her today, I couldn't just walk away. Something in me tightened—the thought of her being alone in that state, of her sitting under the cold sky with only her thoughts to torment her. No, I couldn't ignore it.
I followed.
Her figure disappeared into the dark stairwell, her shawl trailing slightly behind her. By the time I reached the terrace, she was already in her usual spot, perched against the wall with her knees bent, one arm draped lazily over them, the other hand holding her phone. A faint light glowed on her face, outlining her features. She had earphones plugged in, completely lost in whatever world she had created to escape this one.
For a moment, I just stood there. Watching.
Her eyes—restless, hollow, searching for something they couldn't find. I'd seen those eyes many times now. They were not the eyes of the Shreya I once knew—the fierce girl who would never miss a chance to argue with me, who always carried herself with a fire that said she wouldn't be defeated by anyone. No, these were different. Duller. Tired.
And I hated it.
My fists curled involuntarily. Whoever had done this to her… whoever had forced her into this silence, stolen the fight out of her—I could tear them apart with my bare hands. But I stayed where I was. Because right now, it wasn't about me. It was about her.
I walked forward and without asking, without a word, I tugged one of her earbuds out and placed it in my ear. She jolted, her body stiffening as she turned to me. Shock flickered across her face, but only for a moment. Then she simply looked away, letting me stay.
I don't know why, but that small permission felt like something. Like she trusted me enough to share the silence.
The song played softly. The lyrics seeped into the quiet night. I listened, but my eyes weren't on the phone. They were on her. Out of the corner of my gaze, I studied the curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fluttered as though she was trying not to cry, the way her lips parted slightly when she breathed.
And suddenly, a memory struck me.
At the dining table earlier that evening, she'd been sitting quietly, pushing her food around her plate. She hadn't eaten much—barely a few bites. Everyone else was chatting, laughing, but her mind was elsewhere, locked in a storm no one else could see. And I… I had been staring. Without realizing, without blinking. Just staring at her.
She looked so small, so breakable, sitting there among everyone. My chest had tightened then, the same way it was tightening now. I had wanted to reach out, to tell her to eat, to remind her she wasn't alone. But before I could, Vidhi had spoken up about something else, pulling me out of my thoughts. Shreya had looked at me just then, our eyes colliding.
I'd quickly looked away, pretending like I hadn't been caught. But inside, my heart had been pounding. Because I knew she had noticed.
Her eyes… they weren't the same anymore. They didn't hold the stubborn fire I used to despise and secretly admire. They held shadows now. A quietness that didn't belong to her.
And damn it, I couldn't stand it.
If only she remembered that night at the police station—if only she remembered how she had fainted, the chaos that followed, the things that were said, the things that were revealed. Maybe it was better she didn't. Maybe her mind had shielded her from the weight of it. Because if she did remember, I was afraid it would break her completely.
I exhaled heavily, grounding myself back in the present. The song was still playing. She was still staring at the moon, her chin tilted up as though the stars had the answers she was searching for.
Minutes passed. Neither of us spoke.
And then, slowly, her eyes closed. Her head dipped, resting gently against the wall. Sleep had stolen her away, her breaths evening out in a rhythm that made her look… peaceful.
God, she was beautiful like that. For once, she wasn't carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. She wasn't frowning or lost in thought. She was just… calm.
My chest ached. I wanted to protect that peace for her. Keep it safe.
Without thinking too much, I reached out. Carefully, gently, I lifted her head from the wall and placed it on my shoulder. She stirred a little, shifting closer, her body brushing against mine. And then she snuggled.
I froze. My pulse roared in my ears.
It was such a small gesture, unintentional, innocent. But to me, it felt like the earth had shifted. Like she had chosen me, even if unconsciously.
I stayed still, afraid that if I moved, the moment would break. My heart raced, my mind screamed, but my body softened around her. Slowly, my eyes drifted shut too, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep with her head against me and mine resting lightly against hers.
The world could have ended that night, and I wouldn't have cared.
—
The morning sunlight crept onto the terrace, warm and golden. I stirred awake, my body stiff from sleeping in that awkward position. The first thing I noticed was her.
Her face.
The light kissed her skin, making it glow with a soft radiance. Strands of hair had fallen across her face, moving slightly with her breath. She looked almost unreal in that moment, like something delicate carved out of a dream.
I couldn't help myself. Slowly, carefully, I reached out and brushed the strands of hair away, tucking them behind her ear. My fingers hovered for a second longer than necessary, itching to touch her cheek. But I pulled back. She needed peace, not my chaos.
And then… she opened her eyes.
For a split second, she was disoriented, her gaze still hazy with sleep. And then realization dawned. She saw me, saw our closeness, saw the way my arm was still loosely around her.
She screamed.
A sharp, piercing sound that nearly burst my eardrums. I winced, pulling back immediately, but it was too late.
The whole house must have heard. Within seconds, footsteps thundered up the stairs, voices overlapping in confusion.
Everyone rushed to the terrace, staring at the scene. Shreya was flustered, scrambling to her feet, and I was frozen, still half sitting, half standing.
"What happened?" Nishant bhaiya asked urgently.
Before I could even open my mouth, Shreya spoke. Smoothly. Confidently.
"I—I saw an insect," she said quickly, pointing vaguely at the floor. "It was crawling near me and… I panicked. Vihaan was just the first one to come closer. That's it."
Everyone laughed. Relief rippled through the air. Her mother shook her head fondly, chuckling.
"You've grown up now, Shreya," she scolded lightly. "Stop being afraid of these little insects."
She smiled sheepishly, playing along. I stayed silent, watching her.
No one suspected anything. No one knew the truth.
But I did.
And as we walked downstairs together, I couldn't shake the feeling that this—whatever it was between us—was changing. Slowly, quietly, in ways neither of us fully understood yet.
My body ached from sleeping like that all night, but I didn't care. Because if it meant keeping her safe in that fragile peace, I'd do it again. A thousand times.
Because she is mine.
And I would protect her, even from the shadows she didn't realize were chasing her.