By the time Dav and Ruth entered their second year, their friendship had become something of a campus legend. Not a dramatic one, not the type whispered with scandal or shock, but the kind of quiet curiosity that made people nudge one another in the cafeteria when the two walked by.
"They have to be dating," some insisted.
"No, no, they're just best friends," others countered, though the doubt in their voices betrayed uncertainty.
The truth? Neither Dav nor Ruth ever labeled what they had. They didn't need to. At least, that was what they told themselves. But still, when glances followed them down the corridor or jokes flew from their classmates, they could never quite ignore the weight of all those assumptions.
Dav, of course, brushed it off with his usual ease. Whenever someone teased him "So, Dav, how's Ruth?" he'd simply laugh, shake his head, and reply, "She's like my sister, nothing more." He meant it… or at least, he convinced himself he did. Ruth was precious to him, in a way that was difficult to explain. She wasn't just another classmate or casual friend. She had become an extension of his daily life, woven into routines and habits so naturally that imagining his days without her felt almost impossible.
And yet, he clung to the word sister as though it was a shield.
Ruth, on the other hand, tried not to let the murmurs affect her. But she wasn't immune to them. Sometimes, while walking beside Dav, she'd notice the way people's eyes lingered, the smirks exchanged between girls in her faculty, the casual way someone would ask, "When's the wedding?" She would roll her eyes, laugh it off, but later when she was alone those questions echoed in her mind.
Were they really just friends?
If so, why did her heart skip when Dav's hand brushed hers accidentally? Why did her stomach flutter when he leaned closer during one of their playful debates? Why did she notice little details about him the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the absent-minded way he tapped his pen when he was deep in thought?
But then she would scold herself. Don't be silly, Ruth. He sees you as a sister.
And so the unspoken feelings were pushed deeper, masked beneath the rhythm of their friendship.
Their bond was not built only on study sessions or serious conversations. They played as much as they worked, and often more. It was not uncommon to see them chasing each other across the sports field like children, Dav sprinting ahead with a mischievous grin, Ruth chasing behind, shouting threats she rarely carried out.
Football was one of their favorite pastimes. Dav would always insist on playing barefoot, claiming it gave him "better connection with the ground," while Ruth, who wasn't much of a player, would usually just try to steal the ball from him. Of course, she rarely succeeded Dav was too quick, too skilled but he made sure to let her win occasionally, laughing when she celebrated exaggeratedly as though she had just scored in the World Cup.
"You only let me win," she accused once, breathless, hair falling across her face.
"Or maybe you're just better than you think," he replied, smirking.
She rolled her eyes, but the compliment lingered with her longer than she admitted.
Then there were the evenings when neither of them wanted to study or train. Instead, they would slip into the city, sometimes with their other friends, sometimes alone. A movie at the cinema, street food shared at a roadside stand, ice cream eaten while they strolled under the fading glow of the streetlights these small adventures filled their weekends with laughter and memories.
Dav especially loved the cinema outings. Ruth had a way of reacting to movies that amused him endlessly. She laughed loudly at comedies, gasped during action scenes, and wasn't afraid to mutter sarcastic comments when a plot turned ridiculous. He often spent more time watching her than the screen, enjoying the rawness of her emotions, the honesty of her reactions.
Ruth, on her part, loved how Dav made her feel safe wherever they went. He was attentive without being overbearing, protective without suffocating. Whether it was holding her hand briefly in a crowded street so they wouldn't get separated, or walking her back to her hostel after a late movie, Dav carried a sense of responsibility for her that warmed her heart.
It was no wonder people thought they were more than friends.
But still, they never crossed that invisible line.
One Saturday afternoon, after a particularly intense football game, the two collapsed onto the grassy field, staring at the sky. Their laughter slowly faded into comfortable silence, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind.
"People really think we're dating," Ruth said suddenly, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Dav chuckled. "Yeah, they do."
"And you always tell them I'm like your sister."
"Because you are," he replied, glancing at her. "You're like family, Ruth. The kind you choose, not the one you're born into."
Ruth smiled, though a small part of her heart sank. Family. She had told herself that was enough, that his closeness was a gift in itself. But hearing the word aloud, even meant with love, left her with an ache she couldn't explain.
She turned her eyes back to the sky, hiding the flicker of disappointment that crossed her face. "Family, huh? I guess that makes sense."
Dav noticed the shift in her tone, but he didn't press it. He assumed she was simply tired from the game. What he didn't realize was that in that moment, Ruth was quietly questioning everything.
Despite the whispers, the assumptions, and the unspoken emotions, their friendship only grew stronger. They continued to share in each other's lives helping one another study, playing games, sneaking out for fun, sitting side by side at movie theaters.
They were two halves of a whole, and everyone around them could see it. Everyone except them.
Or perhaps, they both saw it clearly but lacked the courage to admit it.
For now, their story remained one of friendship, laughter, and a closeness that defied labels. But beneath it all, something deeper stirred something neither of them could keep buried forever.
The world around them raised eyebrows, but the truth of their hearts was still waiting, unspoken, in the spaces between their words.