Two months had gone by, but Maya still caught herself thinking about it — the warmth of his hand, the curve of that rare smile Aveed had given her. It was ridiculous, she told herself. Just a handshake. Just a smile. And yet, it clung to her.
Her phone buzzed late in the evening. Aryan.
"Hey!" His voice was bright, playful. "Listen, I found this new cafe near the highway. Perfect halfway spot for us. Let's meet tomorrow. I'll make it worth your while — best coffee, my treat."
Maya leaned back against her bed, staring at the ceiling. "I don't think I can, Aryan."
"What? After two months? Come on."
She shook her head, though he couldn't see it. "Not tomorrow. Maybe later."
"Fine," Aryan sighed, though his tone was still light. "Miss your chance to see my handsome face. Your loss."
They hung up.
Not long after, her phone lit up again. This time, it was a name she hadn't expected: Aveed.
Her breath caught. She answered quickly. "Hello?"
"Are you coming tomorrow?" His voice was quiet, even, but it carried something that tugged at her.
Maya hesitated. "I wasn't planning to."
"You should," Aveed said simply. "It'll be good."
No arguments, no explanations. Just that. But it was enough. She felt her chest tighten, her pulse raise.
When the call ended, Maya immediately called Aryan back.
"I'll be there," she said.
There was a pause. Too long.
Then Aryan laughed, easy and bright as always. "Knew you'd come around. See you tomorrow, Maya."
But when he put the phone down, his smile faded. He wasn't stupid. He knew it wasn't him who had changed her mind.
The cafe was warm and filled with the rich smell of coffee. Aryan was already sprawled at a corner table when Maya walked in, and Aveed followed not long after.
Aryan grinned, "Finally, the gang is back. Took me two months to drag you two out."
Maya smiled, settling into her chair, but when her eyes met Aveed's, she stilled. He smiled again — openly, warmly. It wasn't the guarded half-smile she was used to.
Over steaming mugs, they began to talk about college. Maya admitted softly, "Sometimes I think I'll never keep up… my sketches look like a kid'
Aryan was about to joke, but Aveed leaned forward, his voice unusually quick, steady. "That's not true. I've seen your work, Maya. You've got style, you just don't trust it yet. And anyway," his lips curved into another smile, "if you ever need help, I'd be glad to sit with you.
Maya blinked, surprised. "You'd do that?"
"Of course." Aveed didn't hesitate. "I actually enjoy it. Explaining things. Maybe it'll help me too."
Aryan raised his brows, masking his irritation with a laugh. "Well, would you look at that. Our Aveed, the chatterbox tutor."
But Aveed didn't even glance at him. He kept speaking, mostly to Maya. About architecture, about the entrance exams, even about his favourite architects. Words flowed from him — smooth, unhurried, and yet so much more than usual.
Maya was stunned, drawn in. She'd never seen this side of him, and she couldn't look away. Aryan noticed the way her eyes shone, how Aveed's voice softened when he looked at her.
And though Aryan kept smiling, sipping his coffee, something heavy pressed against his chest.
Aveed leaned back, coffee cup in hand, his tone still unusually certain. "Look, we've been talking about this for months. Why don't we just apply together? Same college, same course. Architecture has plenty of space for all of us."
Aryan raised a brow. "You're saying we all stick to one place? No backup plans?"
"Exactly." Aveed's lips curved into a small, confident smile. "Why scatter ourselves when we can grow together? Besides, competition's easier when you've got your people beside you."
Maya glanced between them, her heart skipping at the way Aveed phrased it — your people. His eyes lingered on her a beat longer than necessary, and she dropped her gaze quickly, stirring her coffee even though it had gone cold.
Aryan chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, aren't you full of words today? I didn't know you had this many stored up."
Aveed only shrugged, still smiling. "Guess I just needed the right company."
Something flickered in Aryan's chest at those words. He masked it with another laugh, but his hand tightened slightly around his mug.
Maya finally spoke, her voice softer than usual. "Same college… it does sound right. Maybe it's crazy, but—" She looked at Aveed, then at Aryan. "I would love that."
"Then it's settled," Aveed said before Aryan could respond, his smile widening just enough to make Maya's stomach flutter. "We're in this together."
Aryan raised his cup in mock salute, playful as ever, but his eyes didn't quite match his grin.
For the first time in months, Aveed had spoken more than both of them combined. And though Maya felt strangely breathless from it, Aryan felt something else entirely — a quiet weight pressing in, one he wasn't ready to name.
Maya glanced at her watch, finally breaking the lingering bubble of conversation. "I should get going… it's getting late."
"Yeah," Aveed said, still smiling, but there was an edge to his voice — the kind that showed he wasn't done convincing her yet. "Talk to you tomorrow, and think about what we decided. We're in this together."
She returned a small, shy smile and waved, stepping out into the evening air. Aryan watched her go, feeling that familiar twist of heaviness settle in his chest.
"Ready to head back?" Aveed asked, rising and grabbing his bag.
Aryan nodded, sliding into the car beside him. The city lights streamed past, casting fleeting shadows across Aveed's face. He seemed unusually calm, almost smug, replaying parts of their conversation in his mind.
"You really spoke a lot today," Aryan said, trying to keep his tone casual, though there was a subtle edge of irritation he couldn't hide.
Aveed glanced at him, one corner of his lips lifting in that easy, knowing smile. "Guess some things just needed saying."
Aryan's eyes narrowed slightly. That smile, the relaxed way he leaned back, the way he had Maya's attention earlier — it all pressed against him like a weight he couldn't shrug off.
"I… noticed the way she was listening to you," Aryan muttered, voice low, almost begrudging. "Like… really listening."
Aveed chuckled softly, glancing at him briefly. "She's a good listener. Makes conversations better."
Aryan exhaled, leaning back, staring out the window. He felt a strange mix of admiration, jealousy, and resignation. Aveed had stepped forward today in a way Aryan hadn't expected — confident, charming, and unafraid to show interest. And Aryan knew, deep down, that he couldn't ignore it.
The rest of the ride passed in quiet reflection. Aryan's thoughts kept drifting to Maya, to Aveed, and to the unspoken tension building between them. That evening, he realized something: if he didn't act soon, he might lose his chance. And though the realization stung, a spark of determination flickered within him.
Maya collapsed onto her bed, heart still racing. Her hands trembled slightly as she replayed every moment from the cafe: the way Aveed had leaned forward, voice steady, eyes locked on hers; the way he had insisted, smiled… lingered.
She bit her lip, cheeks burning. Why does he have to be like that? Why does he make me feel… like this?
Her thoughts spiraled — every glance, every subtle smile, every little pause that felt loaded with meaning. She hugged her pillow, heat climbing up her neck. "I can't… stop thinking about him," she whispered. "He's… impossible."
Even the memory of the way he had spoken about them going to the same college made her stomach flutter. She closed her eyes, imagining him leaning back, that rare, confident smirk, and felt a shiver run down her spine.
That night — Aveed back in his room
Aveed tossed his bag onto the chair, a quiet chuckle escaping him. He leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment, but all he could see was Maya — the soft blush on her cheeks, the way her lips had curved at his words, the way her eyes had followed him when he spoke.
When Aryan came in a few minutes later, Aveed's grin didn't fade. "You know," he said casually, leaning against the desk, "Maya really… she makes things feel lighter. Smarter. Brighter."
Aryan's stomach twisted at the tone in his voice. "Uh… yeah, she's… cool," he said, forcing a laugh, trying to keep it casual.
Aveed's smirk deepened, his eyes sparkling with something teasing, something knowing. "She listens, too," he said, almost softly, letting the words hang between them. "Not like most people. She really listens. Makes you want to say more."
Aryan clenched his jaw slightly, trying to act unimpressed, but his pulse had quickened. He forced another laugh. "Right… sure."
Aryan rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a casual smile. "Alright… I should get going."
Aveed raised an eyebrow, that teasing glint still in his eyes. "Yeah? Don't let the excitement wear you out too fast."
Aryan chuckled, masking the tightness in his chest. "Sure… good night, Aveed."
"Good night," Aveed replied.
Aryan slammed the car door, heart pounding, hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He pushed the accelerator harder, the city lights streaking past in blurs of yellow and white. Every sharp turn, every thrum of the engine, was a release for the tension curling inside him.
His mind was a storm. He replayed Cafe over and over — Aveed leaning back, confident, speaking directly to Maya. The way her cheeks had flushed, the way her smile had lingered, the way she laughed at him just slightly differently than she laughed at Aryan.
Why does this… why does it feel like this? he muttered, gripping the wheel so hard it ached. Sweat prickled his temples. Why do I even care so much?
Every memory twisted in his chest. Her smiles, her laughter, Aveed's confidence — it all pressed down on him like a vice. Yet when he tried to name what he felt, he drew a blank. Love? Jealousy? Admiration? Frustration? He couldn't tell.
He cursed under his breath as the car swerved slightly around a corner. "Focus… damn it!" His voice was rough, but the thoughts didn't relent. Every little glance, every subtle gesture between them clawed at his mind. I should be the one… shouldn't I?
By the time he reached his apartment, sweat coated his forehead, muscles tense, chest heaving. He barely remembered shutting the door before he collapsed onto his bed.
He buried his face in his hands, shaking slightly. Why does she smile at him like that? Why does she listen to him like that? Why can't I stop thinking about them together?
Anger, frustration, and a strange, nameless ache surged together. He thumped his fists against the mattress, letting out a strangled shout. "I can't… I can't just… I don't even… I don't know why this hurts!"
Tears pricked at his eyes, but they weren't just sadness — they were confusion, longing, and jealousy rolled into one. Do I like her? Am I… in love? Or am I just… jealous? He shook his head violently. I don't understand. I can't… I can't figure this out.
His mind replayed every detail — her blush, her laughter, the way she had hung on Aveed's every word. The way Aveed had looked at her, calm and teasing, confident… all of it gnawed at him.
"I should… I should say something… I should do something…" His voice cracked. But what? How? He buried his face in the mattress, overwhelmed by the storm inside him.
For long minutes, Aryan sat there, heart hammering, mind racing, body trembling. He didn't know what he felt — love? jealousy? longing? frustration? — but the feelings were undeniable, suffocating, and urgent.
Finally, leaning against the wall, chest heaving, he whispered almost desperately: "I can't… I can't ignore this… not anymore."
The night stretched on, silent except for his ragged breaths, each one weighed down by confusion, desire, and a nameless, aching pull toward Maya that he didn't yet understand.