"There are some stares that don't touch your body… but go straight to your heart."
Avni could feel it.
Every time she walked into tuition now, she didn't have to look for Rishi.
She felt his presence.
It wasn't like other boys — the kind who stared for attention, whistled, or tried to show off.
Rishi didn't try anything.
He just looked.
Not with pride. Not with lust.
But with patience.
That… made it worse.
---
She was getting restless.
Why was she aware of him?
Why did she suddenly fix her dupatta properly when entering class?
Why did she listen to her heart beating when he was behind her?
She hated it.
And yet… she didn't stop it.
---
That day, after class, it happened.
She dropped her pen.
Before she could bend down —
he had already picked it up.
Their hands almost touched.
His fingers held it out gently.
Their eyes met for a second too long.
"Tumhara pen," he said.
That was the first time he spoke to her.
Avni took it, silently.
She didn't say thank you.
But she didn't scold him either.
Later that night, lying in bed, she stared at the ceiling and whispered to herself:
"Usne mujhe pehle naam se nahi bulaya… Sirf 'tumhara' bola…"
And somehow, it mattered.