Meher's POV
It was just after 7 a.m.
The hostel was quiet, save for the occasional clink of mugs and the hum of the ceiling fan. Isha sat curled up on the windowsill, her coffee too sweet as always, humming something tuneless.
Arohi was on my bed, sketchbook balanced on her knees, pencil moving in slow, deliberate strokes. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and rain.
I hadn't planned to say anything.
But the words were warm in my chest, pressing against my ribs like they needed out.
"I told Nihal I love him," I said.
Silence.
Then chaos.
Isha gasped so loudly she choked on her coffee. "WHAT?"
Arohi's pencil froze mid-line. Her eyes snapped up. "You—wait—what did you just say?"
"I told him," I repeated, smiling. "Last night."
Arohi squealed. Actually squealed.
It was high-pitched and uncharacteristic and so full of delight that I burst out laughing.
"You did not!" she said, grabbing a pillow and smacking my arm. "Meher! You actually said it?"
I nodded, cheeks aching from smiling. "He said it first. And I said it back."
Isha was already halfway across the room, hugging me so tightly I nearly dropped my cup. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. This is real. This is happening. You're in love."
"I've been in love," I said softly. "I just finally said it."
Arohi was still staring at me, wide-eyed. "He told you first?"
"He did," I said. "He came over after dinner. Said he needed to talk. We sat on the steps behind the library—where it's quiet, you know? He looked nervous. Kept fiddling with the crown of his watch. And then he just said it."
"What exactly?" Isha whispered.
"He said, 'I don't know where I stand with you. Sometimes I feel invisible. Like I'm just… background noise in your life. And I know I'm not supposed to say this, but I love you. I've loved you for a while now. And I don't know if you feel the same, but I had to tell you.'
Arohi's hand flew to her mouth. "He said that?"
I nodded. "And I just… I couldn't hold it in anymore. I told him I've loved him quietly for months. That I was scared—not of him, but of what it might mean. That I come from a world where every rupee is counted, and he comes from one where things are easier. That I thought maybe he'd love someone easier."
Isha sniffled. "And what did he say?"
"He said, 'I don't want easier. I want you.' And then he cried."
Arohi's voice was quiet now. "And you?"
"I did too. We just sat there, holding each other. No drama. No fireworks. Just… truth."
Isha wiped her eyes. "That's the most Meher thing I've ever heard."
Arohi leaned forward, her voice softer. "You didn't just tell him. You gave him a place to belong."
I smiled. "And he gave me one too."
We sat there, the three of us, tangled in blankets and joy and the kind of friendship that makes everything feel bigger. Isha kept giggling. Arohi kept staring at me like she was memorizing the moment. And I—
I let myself be happy.
Not just for me.
But for the way they looked at me.
Like love was something we all got to celebrate.