The Monday after Pongal felt unusually quiet.
The buzz of the festival still lingered in the school's corridors, with leftover sugarcane stalks leaning against classroom walls and rangolis half-faded on the floor. But for Karthik, the world felt different—lighter somehow.
It wasn't because of the decorations or the brief escape from schoolwork.
It was because of her.
Ananya had always been in his orbit, lighting up rooms, drawing others in like fireflies. But lately, she wasn't just part of the background of his life—she was his life. His thoughts traced her every gesture: the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, how her smile was a little crooked when it was real, and how she looked directly into his soul like she wasn't afraid of what she'd find.
Now, he found himself waiting for her gaze. Craving it.
In the computer lab that afternoon, the air-conditioning hummed quietly as students clicked away at keyboards. Karthik stared blankly at his screen. The words in the programming lesson blurred, his fingers hovering over the keyboard like they'd forgotten how to type.
Ananya sat one row ahead. She didn't turn around, didn't speak. But then, her hand slowly slipped a folded note between the seats.
He stared at it for a second, heart skipping.
He opened it.
> "Meet me on the terrace. After the bell."
No punctuation. No emoji. Just her handwriting—slightly slanted, confident, warm.
The final bell rang like a starting gun. Karthik bolted up, grabbed his bag, and headed to the staircase.
When he reached the terrace, the city sprawled out before him. Distant honks, a golden sky, and the slight chill of the January breeze. Ananya stood near the edge, hair swaying gently.
"You came," she said without turning.
"I would've come even if the note said to jump off the roof."
She turned, laughing softly. "Don't be dramatic, Karthik."
He stepped closer, watching her expression. She seemed calm. Too calm.
"I wanted to ask you something," she said, meeting his gaze.
He braced himself. "Okay…"
"Why haven't you told me how you feel?"
Karthik's breath hitched.
She didn't smile this time. "You look at me like I'm the sunrise. You wait for me like I'm the only train on a platform. But you've never said it."
"I—" he started, but the words stumbled over his tongue.
"I'm not asking because I need to hear it. I'm asking because you need to say it."
He stared at her, heart pounding in his ears. The city faded, the breeze stilled, and all that existed was her—eyes wide, open, waiting.
"I love you," he whispered, voice cracking.
Ananya didn't blink.
"I don't know when it started," he continued, louder now. "But I know that I'm not myself without you. And I've been scared. Scared I'm not enough. Scared I'll ruin it. Scared I'll lose you."
Her eyes softened.
"I love you, Ananya," he said again. "In the quiet moments. In the chaos. In my fears. In your smile. Every part."
She stepped forward and placed her palm gently on his cheek.
"I know," she said. "I've known."
And then, without another word, she leaned in—forehead against his.
No kiss.
No dramatics.
Just two teens, heartbeats in sync, standing still while the rest of the world spun madly on.
It was everything he needed.
Everything she already understood.
And nothing more had to be said.
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END OF CHAPTER 131