The school library was unusually quiet that afternoon—not just in sound, but in presence. Most students had left for the day or were still at practice. Karthik walked between the dusty aisles, notebook in hand, scanning until he spotted her.
Ananya sat cross-legged in the far corner, her "secret spot" as she once called it. Between two high shelves, under a skylight that poured golden light across her pages. Her hair was down, a pencil behind one ear, and she was scribbling in her own diary.
He paused, watching her for a second longer than necessary.
She noticed. "You're getting creepy again, Iyer."
He grinned, approaching. "It's a talent."
She scooted to make space beside her, and he sat. The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It was comfortable—like pages waiting to be filled.
"You read my notebook?" he asked, gently.
"Twice," she said. "And then I wrote in mine too."
Karthik raised an eyebrow. "You keep a diary?"
"Duh. I'm dramatic and emotional. What did you expect?"
She flipped her book toward him, showing him a page:
> He finally said it. Not in those exact words. But I felt it.
And for the first time in weeks, I stopped doubting if I mattered to him.
I do. I really do.
Karthik felt the words thump into his chest like a drumbeat. "That's about me?"
She nudged his shoulder playfully. "No, it's about the other Karthik I hang out with."
A moment of quiet passed.
Then, she whispered, "You know what scares me most?"
"What?"
"That this is just… a phase. That we'll go back to pretending we don't care."
Karthik looked at her. "I don't want that."
"Then promise me something."
"Anything."
"No matter what happens," she said, holding out her pinky, "we don't pretend anymore. We stay real."
Karthik looped his pinky with hers.
"Real," he echoed.
They sat there, under the golden light, words unspoken filling the silence between them. Not a couple. Not just friends. But something blooming—slowly, surely—in the quietest corner of the world.
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End of Chapter 64