Arohi's POV
I wasn't looking for them.
I was heading to the reading room, notebook in hand, mind already halfway into a list of things I needed to revise. The sun was sharp, but the banyan tree cast a wide shadow across the courtyard, and I slowed down as I passed it.
That's when I saw them.
Vedant.
Aryan.
Mudit.
And Nihal.
Four boys, half awake, half pretending to be, sipping chai from paper cups like they had nowhere urgent to be. The bench they sat on was cracked at the edges, but they looked comfortable—like it was theirs.
I paused, just for a moment.
Not close enough to be noticed.
Not far enough to ignore.
Aryan said something, and Nihal laughed—soft, almost shy.
Vedant leaned forward, eyebrows raised, and I caught the words:
"You're glowing. Spill."
Then Nihal said it.
"I told her. Last night. Everything."
I didn't need context.
Meher's smile at breakfast had already told me enough.
Aryan whooped.
Mudit clapped.
And Vedant—Vedant laughed.
Not the smirk he wore in class.
Not the dry chuckle he used when Aryan teased him.
This was different.
It was full.
Surprised.
Delighted.
It startled me.
Because I'd heard him laugh in the library.
Quietly.
Privately.
But this—this was louder.
Freer.
Like something had cracked open inside him and let the light in.
He was wearing the same navy hoodie.
Sleeves pushed up.
Hair still damp from the morning.
His smile stretched wide, eyes crinkled, head tilted back.
He looked beautiful.
Not in the way I'd noticed in the classroom.
In the way that made me ache.
Because he wasn't mine.
Not in that moment.
He was theirs.
Laughing with his friends.
Teasing Nihal.
Protecting Meher.
I watched as his laughter faded into something quieter.
He leaned toward Nihal, voice low, steady.
I couldn't hear the words, but I saw the shift.
His posture changed.
His gaze sharpened.
And I knew—he was saying something important.
Something sacred.
I turned away before they saw me.
Walked into the reading room like I hadn't just witnessed something intimate.
But the sound stayed with me.
Vedant Kapoor's laugh.
Not calculated.
Not guarded.
Just real.
And I hated that I didn't know what made it happen.
I hated that I wanted to.