The sun had begun to dip lower, casting a soft orange hue over the basketball court.
Aditya leaned back on the cold metal bench, arms stretched behind his head, one leg lazily swinging. Deepsi sat beside him, talking — though half of what she said faded into the background.
His eyes weren't really on her.
They were… elsewhere.
There, just a little ahead — near the art booth, Niki sat cross-legged again, focused, calm, like nothing in the world could distract her.
And then — he noticed someone approach her.
Aarav.
That new guy who mostly stayed quiet, barely spoke in class.
Why him?
Aditya's eyes narrowed just slightly, watching.
He saw Aarav bend a little, say something to Niki.
She looked up — and smiled.
She smiled.
It wasn't the polite kind. It was soft… natural… warm.
He watched as Aarav sat down beside her, not awkward, not hesitant — just… like he belonged there.
Together, they both leaned forward — working on the poster. Aarav dipped a brush in color, Niki moved her hand to guide his.
Then — laughter.
Niki laughed. Aarav chuckled with her.
Aditya's jaw tensed. His hand gripped the bench's edge a little too tightly.
Deepsi said something about the poster, but he barely heard it.
Since when does she laugh like that?
Since when does she let someone sit that close… help her… touch her brush…?
He tilted his head, trying not to look too obvious — but he was watching everything.
Every glance. Every smile. Every movement.
And he didn't like it.
Not because she was talking to someone else —
But because she had never looked at him like that.
Not even once.
Aditya leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed.
Aditya's eyes didn't leave the pair sitting ahead.
Aarav and Niki.
Still laughing.
Still too close.
His voice dropped a little, a casual mask over something deeper.
"How does Niki know Aarav?" he asked, not looking at Deepsi.
Deepsi paused, turned her head to follow his gaze.
Niki was sitting on the ground, head tilted, talking to Aarav like they'd known each other for years. Her hair fell slightly over her face as she leaned in, and Aarav brushed it aside — without hesitation.
Deepsi blinked.
"Who?"
Aditya nodded slightly toward them.
Deepsi followed his line of sight, then raised a brow.
"Oh… I didn't know she knows that guy."
Then she laughed lightly. "She's always either in the library or with her books. Maybe she knows him from there?"
She shrugged, crossing her arms.
"Honestly, sometimes I don't even like her much. She's… too serious. Always in her own world."
Aditya didn't respond right away.
His eyes were fixed ahead.
Then, under his breath, he murmured with a half-smile,
"Yeah… sometimes I don't either."
But even he didn't believe that.
Because his fingers were still tapping on his knee.
And his eyes? They hadn't moved from her since the moment she smiled.
Scene: After Hours Silence
The restaurant was almost empty now.
The lights had dimmed to a soft yellow glow, reflecting off polished tabletops.
One by one, the staff had left — waving their goodbyes.
"Goodnight, Niki!"
"Take care!"
"Don't stay too late!"
Niki smiled faintly, nodding, waving back.
But her focus was already shifting to the chairs — one by one, she began lifting them and placing them upside-down on tables.
The last echoes of chatter faded as the main door clicked shut behind the last waiter.
Now, it was just her… and the hum of the AC.
She tied her dupatta tighter around her waist and bent to pick up a napkin from the floor. The mop leaned against the corner, waiting.
It was her routine — clean up, stack the chairs, wipe the counters.
The kind of silence that felt earned after a long day.
But tonight — that silence didn't last.
The door creaked open.
Her back was turned when she heard it — the faintest sound, the air shifting behind her.
She didn't need to look. She already knew.
Still… she slowly turned.
Aditya walked in — black hoodie again, shadowed eyes, hands buried in his pockets.
He didn't say a word.
He just… walked to a table, pulled a chair (the only one she hadn't stacked yet), and sat down.
Like it was his place.
Niki didn't flinch.
Didn't react.
She calmly continued aligning salt and pepper shakers, wiping a stray mark from the surface.
After a pause —
she asked, without looking at him,
"Do you want anything?"
Her voice was flat. Polite. Emotionless.
Not cold — just… indifferent.
As if his presence no longer meant anything.
Aditya said nothing.
He didn't even move.
Niki finally looked at him.
Her expression unreadable. Her eyes tired but strong. No flicker of hurt. No trace of softness.
Just that practiced, professional distance.
"Well?" she asked again.
This time, her tone carried a tiny edge.
Still — nothing.
He just stared at her. Like he didn't know what to say. Like he had a thousand things to say — and none at all.
Niki gave a half-nod to herself.
Then untied the knot of her dupatta and grabbed her sling bag from behind the counter.
"I have to go."
She slung the bag over her shoulder.
"Also… it's been a month."
Her voice sharpened — just a notch.
"You haven't paid me yet."
Aditya's eyes flickered.
She stepped closer now — not angry, just firm.
"I worked. Every day. Even when the manager didn't show. Even when the AC broke and I handled customers on my own. You promised weekly payments."
Still, he sat there.
Silent.
Then finally —
he looked at her. Met her eyes.
"Don't worry," he said quietly.
She tilted her head slightly, as if considering something.
Then gave a short laugh — dry, without humor.
"Right. That's what you always say."