The rain poured steadily outside, but inside Hiten’s house, it felt warm and cozy. Aarya had slowly started to feel more comfortable in the neat, organized home. She glanced around shyly.
“Hmmm… so you’re a student too?”
“Yeah,” Hiten replied, stirring the vegetables on the stove.
“In which school do you study?” she asked.
“Greenwood High,” he answered casually.
Aarya’s eyes widened. “I study there too! Which class are you in?”
“Class 9, Section B,” Hiten said.
She gasped. “Wait… we’ve never met before?”
“Probably in different sections,” he replied with a small smile.
“Oh god, why didn’t I meet you before?” she murmured, then paused and added softly, “Sorry, my bad. I got too comfortable and made you uncomfortable.”
“That’s fine,” Hiten said warmly. “After all, we’re friends now.”
Aarya smiled shyly. “Yeah… by the way, what’s your name?”
“Hiten. And yours?”
“Aarya.”
She looked curiously at what he was cooking. “What are you making?”
“Pasta with a creamy tomato sauce,” Hiten said.
Aarya’s eyes lit up. “Ayyoo! That’s my favorite!”
“Oh wow, what a coincidence,” Hiten chuckled.
Dinner was ready soon. They sat together, plates in hand, talking like old friends. Hiten poured her a glass of juice.
“Sorry,” he said suddenly.
“Why?” Aarya asked.
“I didn’t even ask you anything—just brought you here,” he admitted.
She shook her head gently. “Nah, that’s fine. Actually… I was feeling a bit sad at that time.”
“Why?” Hiten asked softly.
“I’m not getting good marks,” she admitted. “I just… don’t like studying that much. My real interest is in art.”
Hiten nodded with understanding. “I get it. I’m into poetry myself. I manage my studies alongside it. Want to hear one?”
Her eyes brightened instantly. “Yes! Tell me!”
Hiten smiled and began:
“Raindrops on the window,
Softly sing a song,
A lonely heart wandering,
Till the night feels long.
But in the hush of evening,
A spark begins to gleam,
Two souls collide in silence,
And merge into a dream.”
Aarya’s cheeks flushed slightly. “That… was beautiful. I didn’t know you could do this.”
“I’m not a poet,” Hiten said with a soft laugh. “But sometimes… poetry just finds me.”
As the rain pattered on the roof, the room seemed to glow warmer, and for the first time that evening, Aarya felt truly at ease.
A cozy evening unfolds as the rain hums outside. Between soft laughter, shared pasta, and unexpected poetry, Aarya and Hiten find a quiet connection — the kind that feels warm, even in a storm.
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