After that day—
they acted like best friends.
Normally.
Comfortably.
Carefully.
But deep inside—
both of them knew—
this wasn't just friendship.
Not completely.
Because feelings don't disappear that easily.
Especially feelings—
that were once called love.
One day—
Aira was reading poems.
A book by Ashish Bagrecha.
She loved his writing.
Especially the poems that felt soft—
but painful at the same time.
While turning the pages—
one poem caught her attention.
And suddenly—
Aarohi came into her mind again.
So Aira thought—
"I should send this to her."
The poem said,
"I've been here before—
heart racing,
palms sweating,
words tumbling out of me
like spilled coffee.
But this time,
something's different.
Your eyes...
they hold galaxies
I've never dared to explore.
And suddenly,
I'm not sure if I'm
remembering the past,
or catching a glimpse
of the future."
Aira sent the poem to Aarohi.
After a few minutes—
Aarohi replied.
Aarohi,
"My eyes are holding galaxies?"
Aira smiled at the message.
Aira,
"Not galaxies… maybe something even more. Something I can't explain. I just feel it."
She paused for a moment.
And then typed again.
Aira,
"I'll write something about your eyes. And sorry… for the romantic talks."
Aarohi replied quickly.
Aarohi,
"It's okay."
Aira stared at the screen for a few seconds.
Aira,
"Okay."
But even after saying okay—
her heart still wanted to say more.
That night—
Aira couldn't sleep properly.
The poem kept replaying in her mind.
Especially that one line—
"Your eyes… they hold galaxies."
She remembered Aarohi's eyes.
The way she had seen them only through photos—
yet still felt something strange every time.
Like her eyes were saying things—
that her words never did.
Aira opened their chat again.
Scrolled slowly.
Reading old messages.
Old conversations.
Old moments.
And unknowingly—
she smiled.
Not loudly.
Just softly.
Like someone remembering something precious.
Aarohi suddenly texted again.
Aarohi,
"Are you still awake?"
Aira looked at the message immediately.
Aira,
"Yes."
Aarohi,
"You think too much at night, don't you?"
Aira smiled slightly.
Because Aarohi understood her too easily.
Aira,
"Maybe."
Aarohi,
"Sleep early. Your health already gets bad too often."
Aira read that line again.
And again.
Because small caring words from Aarohi—
always touched her deeply.
Aira,
"Why do you care so much?"
There was silence for a while.
Aira thought maybe she wouldn't reply.
But then—
a message appeared.
Aarohi,
"Because you are important to me."
Aira's heart felt strangely warm.
Not excited.
Not restless.
Just warm.
Safe.
Sometimes—
Aira wondered—
if this was enough for her.
Not love.
Not a relationship.
Just this connection.
This comfort.
This feeling of being understood.
Maybe—
some people never become yours completely.
But still become a part of you.
And Aarohi had slowly become that part.
Without even realizing it.