The screech of tires still rang in their ears as the car rolled to a stop a few meters ahead. For a heartbeat, neither Hiten nor Aarya moved, their pulses still racing from the close call. Then the door opened, and a man stepped out.

His expression was pale, anxious. He raised his hands slightly, as if to show he meant no harm.

“I–I’m so sorry about this morning,” he blurted, voice shaking. “I wasn’t paying attention, and I nearly—” His words broke off as guilt clouded his face. “I could’ve hurt you. I could’ve… I’m really sorry.”

Aarya blinked, still catching her breath, but before she could respond, Hiten stepped forward. His eyes were sharp, his jaw tense, every word edged with restrained anger.

“You call that not paying attention?” he said, his voice low but cutting. “You nearly ran her down. Do you even realize what could have happened? One second slower, and she—” He stopped himself, his fists tightening at his sides. “You could’ve killed her.”

The driver stammered again, looking between them nervously. “I–It was a mistake. Please, I swear it won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

Aarya, sensing the heat rising in Hiten’s voice, gently touched his arm.

“Hiten…” she whispered softly, her tone calm but firm. Her fingers lingered just enough to steady him. “It’s okay. Nothing happened. I’m fine. Please don’t be so angry.”

He turned his head toward her, caught by the quiet steadiness in her eyes. The storm in his chest softened, though the frustration didn’t vanish entirely. For a moment, he just stood there, torn between the need to scold the driver and the need to listen to her.

Finally, he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to unclench his fists.

“Be careful next time,” he said coldly, his voice controlled now. “If you can’t drive safely, don’t drive at all.”

The driver nodded quickly, muttered another round of apologies, and hurried back into the car. The vehicle rolled away, leaving the two of them standing under the fading afternoon light.

The silence that followed was heavy, but only for a moment. Aarya tugged lightly at Hiten’s sleeve, her lips curving into a small smile.

“You look scary when you’re angry,” she teased, though her voice was soft.

“I wasn’t—” he began, but she cut him off with a laugh.

“You were. But… thank you. For caring.”

Her words disarmed him more than anything else. He looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. “You make it hard to stay angry.”

“Good,” she said, giving his sleeve one last playful tug. “Come on, let’s go. No more scowls. It doesn’t suit you.”

They walked side by side, the tension dissolving step by step until the incident felt like a shadow already fading behind them.

---

By evening, Hiten picked up his phone and called her.

“You free?” he asked, his voice casual but carrying an undertone of hope.

“For what? Homework?” Aarya’s tone was already mischievous.

“Yes, homework.”

“Nope,” she replied cheerfully. “First, snacks. Then homework.”

When she arrived at his house, she held up a small packet like it was a trophy.

“See? I came prepared.”

Hiten raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his smile. “Prepared for eating, not studying.”

“Exactly,” she grinned, plopping the packet onto the desk. “Priorities, Hiten. Priorities.”

They settled in, books spread out between them. But the study session quickly derailed into playful arguments.

“That’s not the answer,” Hiten said, leaning over her notebook.

“Says who?” she shot back.

“Says the textbook.”

“Says the boring textbook,” she corrected, tapping his arm with her pen.

Their laughter filled the small room, light and unrestrained. Occasionally, their hands brushed over the same notebook or pen, sending quiet sparks neither dared to acknowledge.

The evening deepened, the air outside growing cooler. Aarya’s voice grew softer, her jokes slower. She leaned her cheek against her palm, eyes struggling to stay open.

Hiten glanced at her, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “You’re hopeless,” he murmured.

She didn’t respond. Instead, her head tipped slightly… and then, without warning, she leaned onto his shoulder.

Hiten froze. His breath caught, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs, refusing to calm.

Before Hiten could move, she leaned onto his shoulder — and his heartbeat refused to calm.

An apology hung in the air, but the real story was yet to unfold. Click Next to see what happens next?