The living room looked like a battlefield. Chairs were stacked against the wall, cushions piled up in a corner, and Aarya had just rolled up the carpet like she was preparing for war.
"There," she said, hands on her hips. "Plenty of space. Now you don't have an excuse."
Hiten squinted at the empty floor suspiciously, as though it was plotting against him. "Plenty of space? This is a death trap. One wrong move and I'm going to crash into that table, break the TV, and probably break my bones along with it."
Aarya smirked, her eyes glittering with mischief. "Relax, drama king. You'll be fine."
"Drama king?" Hiten gasped, pressing a hand to his chest like she had insulted his royal dignity. "Excuse me, I am only being realistic. Aarya, have you seen my coordination? I once tripped over a stationary shoe. A shoe, Aarya. It wasn't even moving!"
Aarya burst out laughing, covering her mouth. "You're impossible."
He gave a solemn nod. "Exactly. Impossible. And yet here I am, being asked to perform… in front of the whole school. This isn't just embarrassing—it's social suicide."
Rolling her eyes, Aarya stepped closer and grabbed his wrist. "Stop overthinking. Just follow my lead. It'll be fun, I promise."
Hiten dragged his feet into the center of the room like a prisoner being led to execution. "If I die… tell everyone I went out bravely. With honor."
The music started from Aarya's phone, a soft upbeat rhythm that filled the room. She showed him the first basic steps, slow and easy.
"Step left, step right, spin lightly—" she demonstrated smoothly, her movements fluid.
Hiten attempted the same… and immediately tangled his own feet, stumbling so badly he nearly fell into the wall.
"Wait! Pause the music!" he shouted, windmilling his arms. Somehow he caught his balance, then glared at his own legs. "These are traitors. They're not listening to me."
Aarya was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach. "You should've seen your face!"
He groaned. "If we were graded on comedy instead of dancing, I'd already be top student."
"Come on," Aarya said, trying to compose herself. "Try again. Slower this time."
The second attempt was slightly better—at least he stayed upright—but Hiten still moved stiffly, like a malfunctioning robot. He waved his arms wildly to the beat, earning another round of laughter from Aarya.
"Why are your arms doing their own dance?" she teased.
"They're improvising!" he shot back. "This is art."
They both laughed so hard that Hiten nearly forgot his complaints. Somewhere between his exaggerated stomps and Aarya's patient corrections, he started loosening up. His movements weren't perfect, but at least they were fun.
After fifteen minutes, sweat was dripping from his forehead. He pulled at his T-shirt dramatically. "I can't… I need water. I'm too young to collapse."
Aarya handed him a bottle, shaking her head with a smile. "You're sweating like you just ran a marathon."
"Because this is a marathon. A marathon of humiliation." He gulped the water loudly, then pointed at her. "But don't get too cocky, Aarya. I'm improving. Slowly. Painfully. But improving."
Her grin softened. "You actually are." She leaned closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead before she realized what she was doing. For a moment, her fingers lingered near his skin, and both of them froze.
Hiten's chest tightened strangely. He quickly looked away, muttering, "Uh—th-thanks."
The practice continued, this time with more seriousness. Hiten concentrated hard, counting under his breath, and Aarya matched his rhythm with patience. Step by step, stumble by stumble, they found themselves laughing less and focusing more—yet the laughter still slipped in, warm and easy.
At one point, their hands clasped as they tried a simple turn. Hiten's palm was clammy with nervous sweat, and Aarya nearly teased him about it, but she stopped when she caught the nervous sparkle in his eyes.
"You're not so bad when you stop panicking," she said softly.
"Ha. That's like telling a cat not to hate water," he replied, though his grin was smaller, shyer now.
By the time the music ended, Hiten collapsed onto the couch, panting. "Okay… maybe… just maybe… this isn't complete torture."
Aarya sat beside him, her laughter quieter this time, more like a smile in her voice. "Told you. We'll get there together."
Hiten glanced at her, something unspoken in his eyes. He wanted to say more, but instead he just nodded. "Together."
The room was filled with their laughter, the fading beat of the music, and the unspoken rhythm of two hearts slowly syncing, one clumsy step at a time.