Night had settled over Hyderabad with a soft breeze and the smell of jasmine drifting from the garden below.
Inside the house, the lights were bright, the noise loud — kids shouting, aunties gossiping, uncles laughing.
I escaped.
The terrace was quiet, kissed by moonlight, and felt like the only place in this entire house where my heartbeat could relax.
I stood near the railing, fingers running across the cold cement, breathing in the night.
That’s when the door creaked open behind me.
I didn’t turn.
I already knew who it was.
Laksh.
His footsteps were hesitant, too careful, too… him.
He paused a few steps away, as if unsure whether to come closer or go back.
“You like this place,” he said softly.
I nodded.
“It’s peaceful.”
“Yeah.”
His voice was low. “You always come here when the house gets too loud.”
He remembered.
All these years, all those visits, all those evenings — he remembered.
Laksh moved closer, stopping beside me but not too close — a safe distance, a scared distance.
The moonlight touched his face, highlighting the quiet storm in his eyes.
For a minute, neither of us said anything.
And somehow… silence felt louder than words.
I inhaled deeply.
“You’re still acting weird.”
He stiffened.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening as if he was holding something inside — something big, something he didn’t want spilling out here, under the moon.
I turned to him.
“Laksh… did I do something?”
His eyes widened immediately.
“What? No. Shresta— no. Why would you think that?”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
He stared at me in that fragile, helpless way that made my heart twist.
“Because I don’t know how to act normal around you anymore.”
The words hit like a shockwave.
My breath caught.
His eyes flicked away, embarrassed by what slipped out.
“What do you mean?” I whispered.
He brushed a hand through his hair — a nervous habit I knew since forever.
“It’s just… yesterday you walked in wearing that outfit and—”
He stopped abruptly, cheeks warming, eyes darting away.
I blinked.
“…and?”
He swallowed hard.
“You looked different.”
Different.
The word hung in the air like a confession he was too scared to finish.
“Different good?” I teased gently.
He didn’t laugh.
He didn’t smile.
He just looked at me — really looked at me — with a softness that made my knees weak.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“Different… good.”
My heart fluttered so loudly I was sure he heard it.
But just when the moment was about to shift, when we were standing dangerously close to honesty…
the terrace door clicked open again.
We both jerked slightly.
Tarav walked out.
Tall. Confident. Smirking like he owned the night.
“Well, well… romantic moonlight scene going on here?” he teased.
Laksh immediately stepped back, creating distance between us.
Too much distance.
Tarav leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
“You’re glowing today, Shresta.”
His tone was playful… but his eyes lingered longer than playful.
I rolled my eyes slightly.
“Shut up, Tarav.”
Laksh looked away, jaw tightening at the way Tarav said my name.
The tension shifted instantly — sharp, unspoken, uneven.
Tarav noticed.
Of course he noticed.
His smirk widened.
“What, Laksh? Didn’t expect to see me here?”
Laksh’s voice came out low, calm.
“This is the terrace. Not your personal stage.”
“Oho,” Tarav chuckled, “territorial, are we?”
I froze.
Laksh did too.
Then Laksh forced a dismissive shrug.
“Don’t start.”
But something in his eyes flickered — irritation, jealousy, fear — and Tarav caught it like a spark catching dry leaves.
Tarav stepped closer to me, purposely closing the gap Laksh had just opened.
“So, Shresta,” he said lightly, “want to come downstairs? Everyone’s asking for you.”
Before I could answer, Laksh spoke.
“She was talking to me.”
His voice was steady.
But his hands? Slightly clenched.
Tarav raised a brow.
“Oh? Talking? Looked like something else to me.”
I felt Laksh stiffen beside me.
Tarav laughed softly.
“Relax, Laksh. We all know you get weird around her.”
Laksh’s breath hitched — the smallest sound, but loaded with panic.
Tarav’s eyes sharpened.
“Oh?” he said slowly, stepping closer.
“Did I hit the right spot?”
Laksh’s lips parted, but no words came out.
And suddenly the terrace wasn’t quiet anymore — it was full of tension, jealousy, fear, and something deeper hiding beneath everything.
I stepped between them.
“Enough,” I said firmly.
Both boys looked at me.
“Laksh… come with me,” I added gently.
His eyes softened instantly.
He followed.
Leaving Tarav leaning against the wall, watching us with a knowing, dangerous smirk.
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