The morning felt strangely quiet without Hiten’s usual presence at school. Every glance at his empty bench tugged at Aarya’s chest — the absence of his easy smile, the faint hum of his voice, even the soft shuffle of his movements made the classroom feel colder than usual. Her heart sank with each passing period, and by lunch break, the unease had grown into a knot of worry. She couldn’t wait any longer.

Umbrella in hand, shoes splashing through the puddles left behind by the softened rain, Aarya hurried toward Hiten’s house. The misty drizzle hung in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of wet soil, as if the world itself was whispering for her to hurry.

When she reached the doorway, her heart stopped for a fraction of a second. Hiten stood there, shoulders slumped under a blanket, cheeks pale, forehead glistening with sweat. His usual confident energy was replaced with a weariness that made him look almost fragile.

“Hiten!” she gasped, rushing forward. “You’re sick?”

He forced a weak smile, trying to shrug it off. “Yeah… just a small fever. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

But his body betrayed the words. The way he leaned slightly against the doorframe, eyes tired and glazed, told a different story. Without hesitation, Aarya stepped past him into the house.

“Sit down. Don’t argue,” she said softly but firmly, guiding him to the couch. She adjusted the pillows carefully, making sure he was comfortable, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

The smell of warm broth soon filled the air, mingling with the lingering scent of rain that seeped faintly through the slightly open window. She returned with a bowl of steaming soup, setting it gently in front of him.

“Here. Drink slowly,” she instructed, her voice calm yet commanding.

Hiten tried to protest, his voice hoarse. “Aarya, you don’t need to—”

“Shh,” she cut him off, dipping the spoon and holding it out to him. “Just this once… listen to me.”

Caught off guard by the determined tenderness in her eyes, he sipped the soup quietly. The warmth seeped into his chest, but more than that, her presence, her care, calmed a storm within him that he didn’t know he had.

She fussed over him gently — adjusting his blanket, brushing stray strands of damp hair from his forehead, even scolding him lightly. “You always act so strong, but you don’t take care of yourself. What would’ve happened if no one was here?”

Hiten chuckled weakly, though the sound lacked its usual spark. “Guess I’m lucky someone decided to storm in.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she ignored it, focusing on him. “It’s not luck… it’s because I care,” she murmured softly.

Hours passed in quiet rhythm. Rain tapped gently against the windows, creating a soft percussion that blended with the occasional sound of her voice as she recounted little stories from school — funny moments, small secrets, things she had never shared before. Hiten listened, half-lidded, letting each word anchor him, filling the quiet with an intimate warmth he hadn’t realized he craved.

At one point, as she adjusted the blanket, their fingers brushed lightly. Neither pulled away. The small spark lingered, unspoken but undeniable, weaving an invisible thread between them.

Hiten shifted slightly, catching her wrist gently as she tried to tuck the blanket around him. His eyes searched hers, a mixture of warmth and something heavier lurking behind the surface. “Aarya… you make everything better,” he said, his voice soft yet steady. “But there’s something I can’t tell you… not yet.”

Her brows furrowed, unease coiling in her chest. “Something you can’t tell me?”

He forced a faint smile, closing his eyes for a moment as if to shield her from the truth. “Not now,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Aarya watched him, heart tugged in multiple directions. She wanted to ask, to pry, but something told her that pressing would break the fragile calm they had. She adjusted the blanket one last time, brushing a lock of damp hair from his forehead, and the warmth of her hand lingered a moment longer than necessary.

Then, as she turned to leave the room for a brief moment to fetch tea, Hiten murmured in a voice so quiet she barely caught it:

“I can’t let her know… not now.”

The words hung in the air like the tension before a storm, leaving Aarya’s heart pounding with a mix of worry and curiosity. What was he hiding? And why now, of all times, did it feel like the world was holding its breath along with her?

The rain outside continued its gentle rhythm, unaware of the quiet, charged atmosphere inside the small house. And somewhere deep within Hiten, a plan was forming — one that Aarya would have to discover, but not yet.