The closer graduation came, the more restless Anna felt.
College no longer felt endless. The days passed faster, filled with deadlines, final projects, and quiet panic about the future. Everyone talked about jobs, interviews, and plans. Anna pretended she wasn't worried, but inside, her thoughts were louder than ever.
Sid noticed the change.
She was still smiling, still sketching, still joking around. But sometimes, her smile faded too quickly. Sometimes, she stared at nothing, lost in thoughts she didn't share.
One evening, they stayed back in the design lab longer than usual. Anna was finishing a project, and Sid was sitting nearby, reading but watching her more than the book.
"You've been quiet today," he said.
Anna shrugged. "Just thinking."
"About?" he asked carefully.
She hesitated, then sighed. "What happens after this. After college. Everything feels uncertain."
Sid closed his book. "Yeah. I get that."
There was a pause.
"Do you ever get scared?" Anna asked. "That life will pull people in different directions?"
Sid looked at her, really looked at her. "Sometimes," he said honestly. "But I think some connections don't disappear that easily."
Her heart skipped, just a little.
She wanted to ask what he meant. Wanted to say something more. But the words stayed stuck in her throat.
They walked out of the building together. The campus was quieter than usual. The lights were dim, and the air felt heavy with things unsaid.
"Sid," Anna said suddenly, stopping.
He turned to her. "Yeah?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her hands tightened around her bag strap.
"I just…" she started, then laughed nervously. "Never mind. It's nothing."
Sid waited. He didn't rush her. He didn't push.
"Okay," he said softly. "Whenever you want to talk, I'm here."
That made it worse.
Because he was always there.
They started walking again, but the space between them felt different now. Thinner. Fragile.
Sid wanted to say something too. He wanted to tell her that she mattered to him more than he expected. That her presence had slowly become important, necessary even. But he was afraid. Afraid of changing what they had. Afraid of losing her.
So he stayed silent.
The days after that felt strange. Not distant, but careful. They still talked. Still laughed. Still spent time together. But something hovered between them, waiting to be named.
Graduation day arrived faster than either of them was ready for.
Caps in the air. Smiles everywhere. Photos, hugs, promises to stay in touch. Anna stood among her friends, feeling proud and sad at the same time.
Sid found her after the ceremony.
"You did great," he said.
"So did you," she replied.
They stood there, surrounded by noise, yet somehow alone in their moment.
"This isn't goodbye," Sid said quietly.
Anna looked at him. "I hope not."
They hugged. Not too long. Not too short. Just enough to say everything they hadn't said out loud.
As they walked away in different directions that day, both of them carried the same thought.
Some words, once left unsaid, don't disappear.
They wait.