That one week passed quietly.
And somehow—
it felt good.
Aira spent her days watching movies and series.
Studying.
Reading books.
And talking with Aarohi more than before.
Every single day—
they talked.
Sometimes for hours.
Sometimes through random little texts.
But slowly—
something between them had changed.
They understood each other better now.
Their conversations felt softer.
Closer.
More real.
They shared every small detail about their lives.
Tiny moments.
Random thoughts.
Bad moods.
Late-night feelings.
And without realizing it—
they slowly became each other's comfort.
Not loudly.
Not officially.
Just naturally.
And maybe—
that was the dangerous part.
Because comfort creates attachment.
And attachment creates fear.
One night—
a notification appeared on Aira's phone.
It was Aarohi.
Aarohi,
"I miss you, Airu. I love you. It hurts that I can't be with you."
Aira's heart suddenly felt heavy.
She stared at the message for a long time.
Because she felt the same.
Exactly the same.
But somewhere inside—
fear was growing stronger than love.
Aira replied slowly.
Aira,
"I miss you too. And I love you too. But we can't be together."
Aarohi,
"I know. But it hurts."
Aira closed her eyes for a moment.
Aira,
"It hurts more than anything."
There was silence for a while.
Then Aarohi replied again.
Aarohi,
"So what should we do?"
Aira's fingers froze above the keyboard.
Because she knew—
there was no easy answer.
No perfect ending.
No future she could clearly see.
And maybe—
that scared her the most.
Aira,
"We should stop talking."
After sending that message—
Aira immediately felt pain in her chest.
As if her own words hurt her too.
Aarohi,
"Really?"
Aira,
"I don't know."
Aarohi,
"Do you want that?"
Aira stared at the screen.
Her eyes slowly became wet.
Because the answer was simple.
No.
She never wanted distance from Aarohi.
Not even once.
Aira,
"No."
Aarohi,
"Then why should we stop talking?"
Aira took a long time to reply.
Because the truth was complicated.
Aira,
"I can't fight for you."
Aarohi,
"Why?"
Aira,
"I just… don't want to."
Maybe it wasn't completely true.
Maybe Aira was tired.
Afraid.
Confused.
Or maybe—
she feared loving someone she could never fully have.
Aarohi replied after some time.
Aarohi,
"Aira, you are a coward. Don't talk to me anymore."
That message hurt deeply.
But Aira still replied.
Aira,
"Yes. I am like this. That's why we shouldn't talk anymore."
Aarohi,
"Okay. Don't talk. Bye."
Aira,
"Bye."
And just like that—
everything changed.
The chats stopped.
The calls disappeared.
The comfort vanished quietly.
Nothing remained the same anymore.
And after that night—
they never talked again.
That night—
Aira missed her terribly.
More than she expected.
More than she wanted to admit.
She couldn't sleep properly.
Every time she closed her eyes—
memories of Aarohi returned again.
Their conversations.
Her voice.
The way she called her Airu.
Everything kept replaying in her mind quietly.
Aira kept thinking,
"Will we really never talk again?"
"Was that truly our last conversation?"
The thoughts wouldn't stop.
The silence of the night felt heavier than usual.
And in that quiet darkness—
Aira softly whispered her name.
"Aarohi…"
Again.
And again.
Not loudly.
Just enough for her own heart to hear it.
Because some names become habits.
And some people stay inside your thoughts
—
even after leaving.
Aira hugged her pillow tightly—
trying to stop herself from crying.
But her chest still felt painfully empty.
Like something important had suddenly disappeared from her life.
That whole night—
there was no sleep.
Only silence.
Only memories.
And Aarohi's name echoing quietly in a room where no one else could hear it.