Chapter 14 – Midnight Promises
Some nights aren't meant to be remembered for what happened, but for what was felt.
It was one of those nights.
The kind where the world seemed to exhale.
Where time moved slower, softer, like it, too, wanted to listen.
—
Aarav had picked her up late—well past curfew, long after the city had gone to sleep. He didn't say where they were going, just handed her a hoodie and told her to trust him.
She did.
Always had.
They drove with the windows down, music low, streetlights stretching like ribbons along the highway. She leaned against the passenger window, the wind curling through her hair, the scent of rain in the air.
They didn't speak much.
They didn't need to.
—
After an hour, he parked on the edge of an old abandoned hilltop stadium. The kind no one visited anymore.
"Here?" she asked, raising a brow.
He grinned. "Come on. It's perfect."
They climbed to the top of the stands and sat, side by side, knees touching. The sky above them was scattered with stars.
"Why here?" Mehar asked.
Aarav pointed upward. "Because no one comes here. No noise. No people. Just... us. I wanted a place where the world felt like it was ours."
Mehar didn't reply. She just reached for his hand.
—
Minutes passed. Maybe hours.
They talked about everything and nothing.
About dreams and fears. About things they had never dared say aloud.
She told him about the time she almost gave up painting.
He told her about his fear of failing his dad's expectations.
And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "What if we don't make it? After all this?"
Aarav looked at her for a long moment.
Then he stood up, held out his hand, and pulled her to her feet.
The stars above them blinked, watching.
"If we ever get lost," he said quietly, "I'll come find you."
Mehar blinked, throat tight.
"If you ever forget how to love," he continued, "I'll remind you."
"And if I ever leave?" she asked, half testing, half afraid.
"I'll wait," he said, "until your footsteps return."
Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them.
Not because she was sad.
But because love, when real, isn't loud. It's promises whispered at midnight. It's standing in the middle of nowhere and still feeling at home.
—
They stayed like that—arms wrapped around each other, hearts steady—for a long time.
And that night, as the stars listened and the wind carried their promises, they didn't just fall in love.
They chose it.
Over and over again.
Even before the world tried to change them.
—