The room glowed in the soft warmth of pastel peach and cream. Moonlight slipped through the sheer curtains, brushing the walls with a gentle shimmer. Everything about the space exuded a quiet, understated charm.
Beside the bed stood a modest wooden side table, holding a delicate vase of fresh daisies and a family photo — a couple with their two children, smiling at a time that now felt distant.
On the bed, beneath a crisp white duvet, lay Ayan.
Stretched out comfortably, he held a book above his face, its pages catching the moonlight. A soft, dreamy smile tugged at his lips — distant, tender — like someone lost in the world of daydreams and first loves.
But reality rarely stays away for long.
A sharp sound pierced the silence.
A knock.
Ayan froze, the dreaminess slipping from his face. He sat up slowly, setting the book beside the photo frame, his movements cautious — as though trying not to disturb the fragile world he'd just been immersed in.
Another knock echoed.
This time, it wasn't from the door.
His breath caught.
It was the balcony.
Unease curled in his chest. He rose to his feet, each step toward the curtain heavier than the last. His hand hovered mid-air, trembling slightly.
A deep breath. And then — he yanked the curtain aside.
The silence that followed roared in his ears.
Ayan opened his eyes—he saw him.
Aarav.
Standing outside the glass door, illuminated by moonlight. Still, composed, and breathtakingly familiar.
Ayan's eyes widened, his pulse stuttering like an old clock. His lips parted slightly. He looked as though even a blink might erase the vision standing before him.
"…Senior?" he whispered, the word barely leaving his throat.
He stood frozen, drinking in the sight, heart thudding in disbelief. On the other side of the glass, Aarav met his gaze — eyes crinkling with a soft grin, clearly amused by Ayan's stunned expression. There was warmth in his gaze, depth too, as though this moment had waited patiently to happen.
Aarav tapped lightly on the glass.
The sound snapped Ayan from his trance.
Aarav lifted a hand, gesturing for him to open the door.
Ayan fumbled forward and slid the glass door open. But before Aarav could speak, Ayan stepped forward and pulled him in — quick and instinctive.
Their bodies stood far too close. Breath mingling. Words suspended in the quiet air.
Ayan's fingers still clutched the fabric of Aarav's sleeve. His chest rose and fell rapidly. The scent of Aarav's cologne filled the air — warm, clean, dangerously distracting.
Aarav held his breath. Their proximity was electric. He didn't speak. He just watched — as if this moment held every answer he didn't know he was looking for.
Realizing the closeness, Ayan flushed and let go of his sleeve, stumbling back a step.
"Senior… what are you doing here?" he asked, voice soft and breathless.
Aarav's smile turned teasing. "I left my book with yours… and I urgently need it. So, I came to get it."
The words were innocent. His eyes? Not so much.
"The book…" Ayan blinked, distracted, still trying to piece the moment together.
"But… why didn't you come through the main door?" he asked, frowning.
Aarav's expression shifted. The playful curve of his lips faltered slightly.
Before he could respond—
tattarrattat.
A knock, but this one was sharp and deliberate.
Both of them snapped their attention toward the balcony — their gazes searching the empty space — but there was no one there.
Then, another knock.
Followed by a calm, almost serene voice: "Ayan?... Come down for dinner."
"Ayan?… Come down for dinner."
It was Arun's voice — calm, familiar — grounding Ayan with sudden force.
Both of them froze. The weight of reality pressed down on them like a curtain falling on a stolen scene.
Ayan's heart began to race, and his mind scrambled for any solution, any way out.
"Senior…" he whispered in a tremulous voice, his face drained of color, "...Just go back… for now."
Aarav stood there, visibly confused, lips parted as though about to speak.
But Ayan gently pushed him toward the balcony. His hands trembled as he slid the glass door shut and locked it.
He signaled for Aarav to go, though his eyes silently begged for the moment to last just a little longer.
But then — the curtain fell closed.
Ayan stood still for a beat, chest heaving. He needed to breathe. Needed to pull himself together.
With one last glance at the balcony, he turned and opened the main door — stepping back into his real world like nothing had happened.
[Outside…]
Aarav lingered on the balcony, unsettled.
His mind spun. Why didn't Ayan know? Why did he ask about the main door?
But despite the confusion, he surrendered momentarily to the present. His gaze swept across the surroundings, noting every detail with a sharp, calculating eye.
The bungalow, with its grand structure and sprawling grounds, was surrounded by a few guards casually wandering the estate's outer sections.
Yet, none of them seemed to notice the balcony — an oversight Aarav was quick to seize upon.
He acted quickly. His hands gripped the water pipe running alongside the wall, and like a young tiger, he climbed down with silent precision.
In moments, he was on the ground. Then, he moved swiftly, careful not to make a sound that might draw attention.
...
The car waited in the shadows beyond the trees. Abhi, Vihan, and Karan already inside. Waiting for Aarav to be back.
The door opened—Aarav hopped in.
The excitement died on their lips the moment Aarav entered. All three turned to look at him — Disbeliev. Disappointed.
Vihan leaned forward. "What happened, brother? Weren't you craving a minute ago? How come you're back this fast?"
Abhi twisted in his seat, brow furrowed. "Did that young master interrupted again?"
Aarav seemed distant, mind tangled in thoughts he couldn't quite make sense of.
Finally, he said, "Yes," then paused. "But… I don't think Ayan knows anything about our family situation... He asked me why I didn't come through the main door?"
The car went still.
Hearing this, all three of them were momentarily taken aback, their eyes widening in surprise.
Karan was the first to speak, his voice calm and thoughtful. "It's possible. His family never mentioned him before — and he just came back from abroad. So maybe they haven't mentioned your family to him either."
His reasoning hung in the air, settling like truth.
Abhi's lips curled into a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with a mix of strategy and mischief. "Then... it can be our defensive plus point."
The others exchanged glances — eyes lighting up with understanding.
"Absolutely!" they chorused, excitement threading their voices.
But Aarav remained silent. A quiet unease still lingered in his chest — a doubt that gnawed at him.
Was it right to use this? Should they proceed with this plan?
[Next Morning – Senior Wing]
The classrooms buzzed with the hum of students, their minds intent on grasping the regular academic knowledge.
In the midst of it all, Karan sat at the back corner of his class, his eyes, scanned the room.
For a moment, he appeared lost in his own world, the hum of the classroom fading into the background as he steeled himself.
Then, he slid one hand off the desk, reaching down to retrieve his phone. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen, sending a message with practiced ease.
"We will have an extra session today. Best of luck."
The message was brief — but beneath its simplicity lay something far more deliberate.
A plan was in motion.
[University Cafeteria]
The cafeteria pulsed with life — trays clattered, chairs scraped, and conversations blended into a constant hum of youth and chaos.
But amidst all that noise, one table held a gravity of its own. The Rawat Brothers sat there — and the energy around them shifted entirely.
Abhi, as usual, was the center of easy charm. His hair slightly tousled, sleeves lazily rolled up, he leaned back in his chair, chewing a mouthful of food while half-scrolling through his phone.
Across from him, Aarav sat still — but not calm. His jaw was tight. His fingers drummed lightly against the table, betraying a restlessness that didn't match the relaxed picture he usually wore.
Around them, people stared.
Girls, drawn by Abhi's effortless charisma and Aarav's quiet intensity, found themselves glancing more often than they meant to. Even the boys, typically indifferent, shared murmurs.
The bell echoed—
Aarav stood without warning. His chair scraped back. "Let's go," he muttered, already halfway turned.
Abhi raised a brow, finishing his bite with a smirk.
He stood slowly, adjusting his sleeves.
"He's gonna scare him with those eyes." He chuckled under his breath.
The air between them shifted — charged with something far more personal. Something far more important awaited them — a meeting they had carefully planned.