Inaya.
It's been five days.
Five days since he held my hand under the table.
Since he kissed my forehead.
Since the sleepover, the giggles, the warmth, the "you felt like home" kind of night.
Since the rooftop, where silence wasn't scary.
And now?
Now it feels like I've been ghosted by the sun.
It's not dramatic, okay?
It's not like he stopped replying or disappeared completely.
He still texts. Still responds to my stories. Still says "Good luck with a class :)"
But it's not the same.
The full sentences became "yeah."
The heart emojis became reactions.
The "I miss your poems" became silent after I posted one.
It's not that he's gone.
It's that he's pulling back.
And the worst part?
I don't even know if I'm allowed to say that out loud.
Kavya notices it before I do.
Of course, she does.
"You've opened that text chain six times in five minutes. Either reply or let me throw your phone into the Hudson." Kavya said pulling my phone from my hand.
"It's nothing."
"Exactly. And that's the problem."
Notes App, 3:12 p.m.
Things I won't say aloud:
1. I think he's scared of me.
2. Not in a bad way. In a "you saw too much of me and now you don't know what to do" way.
3. I miss the letters. The rhythm. The ritual.
4. I miss him.
That night I walk into Arnav's room without knocking.
He's playing some indie sad boy playlist and eating cereal.
"Break my door again and I'll charge you rent."
"Am I asking for too much?"
"Wait, hold on. Are we talking about Rabin or your dinner order from yesterday?" Arnav freeze mid-bite
"Rabin," I muttered.
He sighs. Puts the spoon down.
Serious Arnav is a rare breed. Like… unicorn-in-a-suit rare.
"He's a boy with a lot of silence. Maybe he just doesn't know what to do with the noise of actually caring." He said.
"So what do I do?"
"Whatever makes you feel less like you're drowning."
"Do I scare people?" I asked collapsing onto his bed dramatically
"Absolutely. You look like the kind of girl who reads poetry and calls people out in the same breath." Arnav answered not even turning
"That's not helpful." I muffled into his pillow
"I'm not here to be helpful. I'm here because God thought 'Let's give her a second chaotic sibling and make him hot.'"
"I'm being serious." I sat up placing the pillow on my lap.
"Okay. Hit me." Arnav said finally looking at me.
I pause. Looks down. Twirls the thread on my sleeve.
"He doesn't talk the same anymore. Not just slower. It's... emptier."
"I don't know if I did something or if this is just how things die."
"And I hate that I care this much. That I notice every word he doesn't say."
Arnav chews for a second. Swallows. Puts the cereal down.
"You don't scare people, Aya. You disarm them. You make them feel things they thought they'd buried under sarcasm and playlists and silence."
"So it's my fault?" I asked quietly
"No. It's his. For not realizing you're not asking for the world. You're just asking not to be abandoned in it."
Silence.
He tosses a cushion at me.
"And if he does mess this up, I'm going to personally send him a PowerPoint presentation titled: 'How to Fumble an Absolute Goddess in Five Stupid Steps.'"
"PowerPoint?" I snorted
"Slide 1: 'Ghosting isn't a love language.' Slide 2: 'Her poetry > your trauma response.'" Arnav said his voice mock serious.
I smiled. A real one. Small, but honest.
"I'm writing him a letter."
"Write the hell out of it. And if he can't handle the storm, remind him he's the one who built a paper boat out of silence."
He reaches for the cereal again.
"And also tell him he owes me therapy for making you cry." Arnav said his mouth full of cereal.
"He doesn't even know I cried."
"Good. Let him think you were unbothered, glowing, and listening to Doja Cat while you emotionally spiraled."
"I hate how you're right sometimes," I said throwing a pillow at him.
"It's the price of being disgustingly emotionally intelligent and also hot." Arnav grinned.
LATE NIGHT — HER LETTER DRAFT
Typed at 2:13 a.m.
The dorm is quiet except for the sound of my heart thudding too loudly.
Subject: This is me — without hiding.
Dear RT,
I don't know if you're slipping away or if I'm just standing too still.
But either way, there's a gap now. And it hurts.
I keep telling myself not to overthink.
But my mind is a poet — it romanticizes even the silences.
You're not gone.
You're just... less.
And I don't know if that's my fault.
I don't need paragraphs. I don't need poetry.
I just need to know if I'm still someone you see.
Because I've already started looking for you in every crowded hallway.
And that kind of hope is exhausting.
I won't beg. I won't guess.
But I deserve the truth.
—Inaya
I hover over send.
Breathe in.
Clicked.
It's done.
Now I wait.
Or maybe, now I let go.
RabinThe room is dimly lit, the glow of the screen on my face.
The email is open.
I haven't read it yet.
My fingers hover. My eyes flicker. My mind was screaming.
"I should've replied sooner."
"I shouldn't have gone quiet."
"I should've held her hand harder when I had the chance."
I pressed my palms to my face. I am a mess.
Then—a voice from across the room.
"You gonna keep staring at that screen or are we doing the whole dramatic reading together?" Hideya asked his voice groggy.
"It's from her."
"Of course it is."
"I messed it up. I got scared and I pulled away. She thinks I don't care. But I do. I just… didn't know how to show up without messing up the version of me she liked."
"She didn't fall for a version, Rabin. She fell for you. The you who folds origami when anxious. The you who doesn't know how to say things unless they're written." Hideya said softly.
"But what if I've already become what she was afraid of? A silence that pretended to listen."
"She gave you her worst days. You don't get to disappear during yours." He answered in a quiet yet firm voice.
I looked up.
"You didn't mean to hurt her. But you did. And if you care about her even half as much as I know you do… you'll do something about it." Hideya's voice softened
Pause.
"She deserves more."
"She deserves you—when you stop running from yourself."
I sat cross-legged, clutching the printout of Inaya's letter like it's fragile.
Ava walks in, hair a mess, protein bar in one hand, vibe unbothered but concerned.
"Y'all still up? Are we unpacking Rabin's feelings again?
Cool, I brought snacks and secondhand emotional trauma." Ava said cracking open the bar, flopping dramatically on the floor.
"She thinks I'm pulling away." I said quietly
"Oh.
Ohhh.
This is full 'my tears are soaking my pillow pet' energy.
You can hear the sad playlist through the font." She said after reading the letter from over my shoulder.
"I didn't mean to hurt her—God, I didn't know I hurt her—" I panicked.
"Babe. You went silent. You disappeared. That's basically emotional ghosting with an origami twist.
She's out here thinking she got soft-launched and dumped by a poetic ghost in a black turtleneck." Ava said gently yet firmly.
"I just… I didn't know how to handle how much she meant to me.
Like—what do you even do when someone makes you feel…written back to?" I said before rubbing my face as if it was gonna get me answers.
"You panic. You fold cranes. You stop replying to the one girl who finally saw you." Ava said voice quieting down, tone soft
"I'm not good at this," I said looking at them with a miserable look.
"Being honest?"
"Being… known."
"Okay, listen. She doesn't want perfect, Rabin. She just wants a present.
She didn't fall for the aesthetic — she fell for the boy who said silence wasn't peaceful." Ava said sighing as she rolled closer, sitting up
"I never wanted to lose her." I whispered.
"Then why are you acting like a walking disclaimer with emotional commitment issues?"Ava said leaning her head on my shoulder, teasing but warm
"I don't know. Because I suck?" I let out a broken laugh
"No. Because you're terrified. Which, fair. Feelings are terrifying. But you wanna know what's worse than fear?"
"What?"
"Regret.
Waking up one day realizing you let the right person go because you couldn't say, 'Hey. I'm scared. But I still want this.'"
"She probably thinks I've moved on," I murmured.
"She's still writing to you. She hasn't moved. She's waiting for you to show up again." Ava said looking dead in my eyes.
"She deserves more than waiting," I said softly
"Then give her something to stay for, Mr. Emotional Origami," Ava smirked
"Think it's too much if I write back and ask to meet?" I smiled
"Honestly? No. Do it. Go full 'main character redemption arc.'
Write her a damn sonnet if you have to. Just don't leave her on read emotionally again."
"God, I hope she still wants to see me," I said grabbing my laptop and ready to reply
"She does.
Now go hit her with your tragic soft boy charm and make it count." Ava grinned.
I was staring at the screen, halfway through typing, halfway through collapsing. Ava's still beside me on the floor, protein bar now a sad casualty of her emotions. Door creaks. Hideya walks back in, hair messy, hoodie half-zipped, holding a cup of instant ramen like it's holy scripture.
"Why do you look like you just confessed your sins to a Google Doc?" He asked squinting at me.
"HE DID.
Well, kind of. He's writing a letter to Inaya. It's a crisis. A poetic one." Ava asked her gestures dramatic as always.
"I want to fix this. I just don't know how." I said looking down.
"Then stop writing and go talk to her." Hideya leaned forward, voice calm but firm
"In person?" I asked shocked
"Yeah. Words are great, Rabin, but this? This needs to be said with your actual face." Ava nodded
"Say it where the words won't hide you." Hideya suggested
"But where? I can't just pull her aside in front of everyone—"
"The rooftop." AVA snapped her fingers like she just solved emotional calculus
"YES. Rooftop. Classic. Private. Starry sky. Softboy certified™. You've already romanticized it in your head, don't lie." Hideya nodded instantly
"Text her. Tell her to meet you there tomorrow. Bring closure, or clarity, or chaos — whatever this needs to be." Ava said.
"Bring that crane you folded too. You know, the one you pretended wasn't a heart." Hideya giggled.
"She probably thinks I'm a walking contradiction." I laughed nervously
"You are. But you're her contradiction." Ava said.
"She showed up for you, Rabin. Now it's your turn to show her she wasn't the only one falling." Hideya said.
Subject: If You're Still Reading This…
Dear IM,
I've started and deleted this letter more times than I'll ever admit.
I don't know how to explain the way your words hit me. Or how I'm still learning that silence isn't strength — sometimes it's just fear dressed up in prettier clothes.
You said you wanted honesty. So here's mine:
I've been scared. Not of you — never of you — but of what it means to be seen by someone who might actually understand me.
You asked if you were too much.
What if I told you you're the first thing that's ever felt enough?
I don't have the perfect reply. I don't know if I'll say the right things when I see you. But I want to try. Because for the first time in years, I want someone to know me beyond the paper and the pauses.
So… meet me?
Tomorrow evening. Rooftop of the North Wing. 6:30 p.m.
I'll be there. With maybe too much to say. And maybe not enough words.
But I'll be there.
No pressure.
No promises.
Just… the truth. Finally. Face-to-face.
— RT
I clicked the send button even before giving it a second read, cause I knew i would delete some things if I reread it.