Arman and Amaya's friendship deepened with every passing day. They weren't loud about it, nor dramatic—their bond grew in soft smiles, shared snacks, and long quiet walks.
Arman would wave excitedly whenever he spotted her. "Amaya I saved you the last pastry!" he'd announce proudly.
Amaya would take it with a shy, "Thank you… you didn't have to."
"I know," Arman replied with a grin. "But I wanted to."
They spent hours together—sometimes talking, sometimes simply sitting in silence while Arman wrote poems and Amaya drew.
But not everyone was happy about this.
Saira was bold, charming, and well-loved in the village. She had always been fond of Arman—perhaps too fond. She flirted, complimented him, followed him around, and tried to impress him.
But Arman never saw her the way she wanted.
And she knew that.
Worse—she knew Arman's heart belonged to Amaya.
One afternoon, Saira found Arman sitting by the river with Amaya.
She stormed up to them with a sweet-but-forced smile. "Arman! I've been looking everywhere for you! We're practicing for the festival—remember? You promised you'd help me rehearse."
Arman didn't even look at her. "I'm busy."
Saira's smile twitched. "Busy? With… her?"
Amaya lowered her eyes, uncomfortable.
Arman sighed heavily. "Saira, not now. Please."
"You always say that!" Saira snapped. "Every time I try to talk to you, you're with her!"
Arman finally looked at her—annoyed. "Because I want to be with her. You need to understand that."
Amaya blinked in surprise. Saira's face went red with anger.
"So that's it?" she whispered sharply. "You choose her over me?"
Arman didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Saira clenched her fists. "You'll regret ignoring me, Arman."
Arman stood up protectively in front of Amaya. "I won't. And stop bothering her too."
Saira glared at Amaya, eyes burning with jealousy. Then she turned sharply and walked away.
Amaya whispered, "She's upset."
Arman sat back down with a sigh. "She always is. But I'm tired, Amaya. I don't like her the way she wants me to. And she doesn't understand no."
Amaya looked at him softly. "Why do you choose to spend time with me, then?"
Arman smiled—gently, honestly. "Because with you… I feel peaceful. You don't pretend. You don't force anything. You just… are. And I like that. I like you."
Amaya's heart fluttered.
Their friendship was no longer just friendship.
It was falling into love.