Roohi's POV

The memories kept coming, each one painting a picture of a boy who had been everything to me—my best friend, my protector, the center of my universe.

Middle school brought new adventures, but some things never changed. Vihan’s teasing, his protective streak, and those circles he couldn’t seem to stop drawing on my back—they were as constant as the rising sun.

It was in middle school when I realized my feelings for Vihan weren’t just the fleeting crushes that came and went like passing seasons.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore. It wasn’t just the way my stomach fluttered when he smiled or the way my heart raced when he drew those stupid circles on my back. It was deeper than that.

It wasn’t about his mischievous grin or his endless charm, though those things didn’t help my cause. It was the way he made me feel safe like the world couldn’t touch me as long as he was around.

It was a quiet realization, the kind that settles deep in your chest and makes itself at home. I didn’t just like him; I loved him.

There was a day during PE class that still lingers in my mind, clearer than the rest.

One of the boys in our class, Rohan, thought it would be funny to tug on my braid while we were waiting on the sidelines. I shot him a glare, ready to tell him off, but before I could say a word, Vihan was there, and before I knew it, the boy was flat on his back, staring up at an angry Vihan.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” he’d said, his voice low and threatening. Rohan stumbled, eyes wide with fear, and mumbled an apology before running off.

I should’ve been angry at his overprotectiveness. I should’ve told him I didn’t need him fighting my battles. But instead, I’d fallen a little more in love, when he asked, "Roohi, are you okay? I will not tolerate anyone hurting you."

The feeling grew slowly, entwining itself into my everyday life. He’d wait for me after school, even when I took ages packing my bag to check if he would leave me alone if I took forever, but he always waited.

At birthday parties, he’d always save the last slice of pizza or cake for me, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. Once, during a family picnic, he spent hours convincing me to climb a tree with him, promising he’d catch me if I slipped. And when I finally managed to make it onto the lowest branch, he clapped like I’d won an Olympic medal, making me laugh until my sides ached.

How sweet! Wasn't he sweet?

*******

Well, I reached the memory lane that was filled with middle school memories, that time was different.

My feelings had grown deeper, something I couldn’t ignore even if I tried. But Vihan didn’t see me that way.

To him, I was just Roohi—the quiet, dependable friend who would always be there.

By then, Vihan had become the boy everyone wanted to know.

Girls flocked to him, giggling at his jokes and finding excuses to touch his arm. He soaked it all in, his charm turning every interaction into something that left me feeling invisible.

He flirted with other girls, flashing them the same charming grin that made my knees weak. I hated it. I hated the way my heart twisted every time he looked at them with the attention I craved.

“Why do you let them hang all over you?” I asked him once, trying to sound casual though only I knew how I used to feel about it.

“They’re fun,” he replied with a shrug. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, Roohi.”

He didn’t understand. How could he? To him, it was all just fun as he was getting lots of attention. To me, it was a knife twisting in my chest every time he looked at one of them the way I wished he’d look at me.

******

I recalled another memory while wandering the lane...When we were fourteen, both families decided we’d dance together at a family wedding. Vihan and I were paired up because, of course, we were friends.

“I’m leading,” he declared confidently though he was not a very good dancer.

“No way! You’re terrible at keeping rhythm,” I argued, swatting his hand away when he tried to twirl me.

“Roohi, I will manage as I’ve got a charm. That’s all I need,” he said in Shahrukh style.

“Charm won’t save you from looking like a flailing octopus.” I rolled my eyes and said.

We spent weeks practicing, arguing about who should lead, and stepping on each other’s toes.

The practice sessions were chaotic. Vihan kept stepping on my toes, and I kept tripping over my own feet because he insisted on “freestyling.”

Finally, one evening, I stormed off in frustration, convinced we’d never get it right, he followed me out to the garden.

“Roohi,” he called, following me. “Don’t be mad. I’ll do better.”

“No, you are overconfident and don't take anything seriously about whatever I say. You can’t fix being terrible at dancing,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

“True,” he agreed. “But I can make you laugh.”

Then he broke into the worst dance routine I’ve ever seen, complete with exaggerated hip thrusts and chicken-like flapping arms. I laughed so hard I almost fell over.

“See? Mission accomplished,” he said smugly.

That was Vihan... always knowing how to make me laugh, even when I wanted to stay angry; after that, he did the practice well, and we danced very well.

Roohi's POV

By the time we hit high school, my one-sided love for Vihan had fully blossomed into a dramatic saga worthy of a prime-time soap opera. I could no longer ignore it. It wasn’t just about his small, protective gestures anymore—it was everything about him. The problem was, I was the only one who seemed to know about it.

By then, Vihan had perfected his playboy persona.

He flirted with everyone—except me.

I watched as he charmed his way through our school, leaving a trail of swooning girls in his wake. I hated how easy it was for him, how effortlessly he was drawing attention wherever he went. Girls adored him, teachers praised him, and even the boys in our batch couldn’t help but admire and envy him at the same time. But through all the attention, all the adoration, he remained oblivious to the one person who cared for him the most.

But high school wasn’t all laughter and stolen moments. There were times when my heart felt like it was being shattered into pieces, each one sharper than the last. Like the New Year’s Eve party when I’d dressed up in a shimmery blue dress, straightened my hair to perfection, and even applied eyeliner for the first time. I stepped out, hoping—just once—that he might see me differently. People noticed. Gauravi told me I looked stunning, and even Mihir, who rarely commented on such things, gave me an approving nod, which, coming from Mihir was like getting a standing ovation.

But Vihan? He barely glanced at me before asking if I’d seen his phone.

What the hell!! To hell with your phone!! He could have said something nice...

Maybe I was expecting more... I should not have.

The final blow came later that night, I had excused myself from the party, needing a moment of quiet to collect my thoughts, only to stumble upon the very sight that haunted my worst fears.

The laughter of the crowd faded into the background as I stood frozen, my heart splintering with each second.

Vihan and Kavya stood on the balcony, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight. She was leaning against the railing, her laugh light and musical, and he stood close... closer than he ever stood with me. My pulse quickened as I watched him tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long.

I knew I should have walked away. I knew I should have turned and pretended I hadn’t seen anything, but my feet were rooted to the ground. Then, he leaned in. The way he kissed her was devastatingly gentle, his lips brushing against hers with a tenderness I had only ever dreamed of. The stars above seemed to shine brighter, mocking me with their perfect backdrop for the perfect couple.

Something shattered inside me. It wasn’t just my heart—it was my faith, my hope, the dream I had held onto for so long. I backed away, the muffled sound of my footsteps drowned out by the echoes of their laughter.

I didn’t remember walking back to the party or even the washroom, but suddenly, I was there, standing there leaning against the wall, staring at the floor as tears blurred my vision. A knock on the door startled me. I wiped my tears immediately; I didn't want anyone to know that I had been crying.

“Roohi?” Gauravi stepped in, her smile faltering as she saw my expression. “Hey, where have you been? Are you all right?" She asked me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

" Yes, I was sweating so I came to wash my face," I replied.

" You know what Vihan did...”

I stayed silent, my throat too tight to speak. But she didn’t stop there, she continued, trying to lighten the mood, “he kissed her under the stars. That’s like, straight out of a romance novel. Too bad he kissed Kavya, she has so much attitude already and it will increase as Vihan kissed her.”

Her words hit like a dagger. My lips curled into a weak smile as I forced out a hollow laugh. “Yeah. Lucky her.” Gauravi didn’t notice the tremor in my voice or the way my fingers clenched my dress.