> Hiten: “Morning, sleepyhead. Guess who’s freezing outside your house.”

Aarya: “You’re kidding.”

Hiten: “Come see.”

She peeked down from her balcony and there he was — beanie on, scarf barely tied, holding two cups of coffee with that smug grin.

> Aarya: “You’re insane.”

Hiten: “That’s what people say when someone cares too much.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Come up before you turn into an ice cube.”

---

Later that morning, they walked side by side toward school, both dressed in cozy layers.

The silence wasn’t awkward — it was peaceful. Just the sound of their shoes on the road and the distant chirping of winter birds.

> Hiten: “You know, after the trip, everything feels slower.”

Aarya: “Yeah… it’s like the days don’t rush anymore.”

Hiten: “Maybe that’s not bad.”

Aarya: “No. Sometimes peace is better than excitement.”

Hiten: “You’ve changed, you know that?”

Aarya: “You too. You’ve stopped overthinking every little thing.”

Hiten: smiles faintly “Maybe I just learned to trust moments more than plans.”

She looked at him for a second — his calm eyes, that faint smile — and thought, he really means it.

---

At school, everything buzzed with December energy.

Students were chatting about trip memories, exchanging photos, making jokes that would last the whole winter.

> Friend: “So, our trip couple’s back! Did you two bring any souvenirs?”

Hiten: “Yeah. Patience. Learned it from her.”

Aarya: “And sarcasm. Learned it from him.”

They both laughed softly — a rhythm only they shared.

They decorated the class together — paper snowflakes, silver garlands, a small tree near the window. Between laughter, quiet filled the gaps again.

> Aarya: “Do you ever think about the future?”

Hiten: “Too often. But lately, I’ve stopped worrying about it.”

Aarya: “Why?”

Hiten: “Because right now’s pretty good.”

She smiled faintly. “You’re getting too good with words, you know.”

Hiten: “Perks of writing about you.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

---

After school, they stopped by their favorite tea stall. Fog blanketed the road; the air smelled like roasted peanuts and cardamom.

They stood by the counter, steam rising from their cups.

> Aarya: “Feels weird, right? That we’re back.”

Hiten: “Yeah… Rainvale felt like another world.”

Aarya: “But this still feels special too. Like the warmth followed us.”

Hiten: “Maybe because it wasn’t the place… it was us.”

A quiet pause. They didn’t need to say more. The fog thickened, and the world felt small — just two people and their tea.

---

On their way back, Aarya noticed his fingers turning red.

> Aarya: “You didn’t bring gloves again?”

Hiten: “Didn’t think I’d need them.”

Aarya: sighs “You’d forget your brain if it wasn’t inside your head.”

She took off her extra scarf and wrapped it around his neck before he could protest.

> Hiten: “You know this counts as a Christmas gift now, right?”

Aarya: “It’s called basic survival.”

Hiten: “Still counts.”

She laughed softly, cheeks pink from both cold and embarrassment.

---

That night, Aarya sat at her desk, diary open beside the window.

She wrote, “This winter feels different. Maybe because he’s here. Or maybe… because I finally feel warm inside.”

Somewhere across town, Hiten sat at his desk, typing something on his laptop — then stopped and whispered,

> “From rain to frost, the season changed…

But her smile, somehow, stayed the same.”

The screen glowed softly as snow began to drift outside — slow, quiet, beautiful.

The world felt wrapped in peace again.