The bench creaked softly as Laddu shifted.
The jokes were gone now.
The teasing too.
He stared at the road, jaw tight, fingers locked together like they were holding something heavy. 🪨
"There's weight on my heart," he said quietly.
Mochi straightened.
This wasn't a joke tone.
She waited.
Laddu took a breath.
"New Mochi…" he began, then stopped. Restarted.
"I don't like you."
The words landed wrong.
Sharp. Sudden. ⚠️
Mochi froze.
The night felt colder.
"…What?" she asked.
Laddu finally looked at her.
His eyes weren't careless.
They were tired. 😔
"I like old Mochi," he said softly.
Silence stretched.
Mochi's hands slowly loosened from his shoulders.
"Old Mochi?" she repeated. "What do you mean?"
"The Mochi who didn't try to be strong all the time," Laddu said.
"The Mochi who didn't carry everyone alone."
"The Mochi who didn't think she had to become something else just to survive."
Mochi's throat tightened.
"You don't like who I am now?" she asked, quieter.
Laddu shook his head immediately.
"No," he said. "I'm scared of you now."
He placed a hand over his chest. ❤️🩹
"You're heavier inside," he continued.
"Not louder. Not meaner. Just… heavier."
Mochi looked away, eyes shining. ✨
"I had to change," she said. "Someone had to hold things together."
"I know," Laddu replied.
"And that's why it hurts."
He leaned his forehead against her shoulder.
"I don't miss weak Mochi," he whispered.
"I miss the Mochi who let herself rest."
Mochi closed her eyes.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then she exhaled slowly.
"…I didn't know you noticed," she said.
Laddu smiled faintly. 🙂
"I always notice," he said. "I just joke so you don't see me watching."
She wrapped an arm around him.
Not tightly.
Not protectively.
Gently. 🌱
"I'll try," she said. "To rest again."
Laddu nodded.
"That's all I wanted."
The weight didn't disappear.
But it shifted. ⚖️
And for tonight, that was enough.
Laddu took a breath.
"I don't like new Mochi," he said again, then shook his head hard.
"No. That's still wrong."
He pressed a hand to his chest.
"I love new Mochi." ❤️
Mochi froze.
Laddu looked at her fully now.
"I love the Mochi who learned to stand up."
"I love the Mochi who takes responsibility even when she's scared."
"I love the Mochi who became strong because she had to."
His voice softened.
"I just don't want you to think you have to stop being soft to deserve love."
Mochi's eyes filled quietly. 💧
"And the most important thing," Laddu said, almost whispering now,
"I want you."
Not the past.
Not the idea.
Not the memory.
"You," he repeated. "Old, new, tired, angry, strong, quiet. All versions."
Mochi's breath shook.
"You're bad with words," she said.
"Yes," Laddu agreed. "That's why I talk so much."
She laughed softly through the emotion 😭😂 and pulled him into her arms, holding him properly now.
"I'm still here," she said. "I didn't disappear."
Laddu closed his eyes.
"I know," he said. "I just needed to say it out loud."
They stayed like that.
No jokes.
No teasing.
Just two people fixing something before it could turn into a wound 🩹.
They sat quietly on the bench.
Too quiet.
Laddu shifted, fingers tapping against his knee, a habit he had when something heavy circled his thoughts. 🌀
He didn't look at her when he spoke.
"Mochi…"
She hummed softly.
"Yes?"
Laddu swallowed.
"What would you do," he asked, voice low and careful,
"if one day you found out I cheated on you?"
The question landed hard. 💥
Mochi stiffened.
Slowly, she turned to face him.
"…Why would you ask that?"
Laddu finally looked at her.
"Because," he said honestly,
"I don't like pretending I'm a perfect person."
Mochi's jaw tightened.
She didn't answer immediately.
When she did, her voice was calm. Too calm. ❄️
"I would be hurt," she said.
"I would be angry."
"I would feel stupid for trusting you."
Laddu nodded.
"Fair."
Mochi continued.
"I wouldn't scream," she said.
"I wouldn't hit you."
She paused.
"I would walk away."
Laddu's breath caught. 😮💨
"Not to punish you," Mochi added,
"But because I don't stay where I'm disrespected."
She looked straight at him.
"If you cheat, you already chose to leave. I would just follow your decision."
Silence.
That hurt more than shouting.
Laddu lowered his head slightly.
"…And if I regretted it?" he asked.
Mochi answered without hesitation.
"Regret doesn't rebuild trust," she said.
"Effort does. Time does."
She placed a hand on his chest.
"But don't misunderstand," she added.
"If you cheated, I wouldn't think you were evil."
Laddu looked up.
"I'd think you were weak," she said quietly.
"And I don't want a weak love."
The words stayed between them.
Heavy.
Honest. ⚖️
Laddu exhaled slowly.
"…I won't," he said.
Mochi studied his face.
"I know," she replied.
"That's why the question scared me."
He leaned into her, resting his forehead against her shoulder.
"Thank you for answering," he said.
Mochi wrapped an arm around him.
"Don't ask questions," she whispered,
"unless you're ready for real answers."
They sat there longer.
Not romantic.
Not playful.
Just two people choosing trust before it had a chance to break 🤍.
Laddu shifted again, completely unbothered.
You could tell this thought had been waiting its turn.
"My college taught me," he said seriously,
"what couples do."
Mochi slowly turned her head.
"…Your college?"
"Yes," Laddu nodded. "Very educational place."
She crossed her arms. 😑
"And what exactly did they teach you?"
Laddu counted on his fingers.
"They said couples…"
"Bathe together."
"Sleep together."
"Eat together."
He looked up proudly.
"Group activities."
Mochi stared.
Long. 👁️👁️
"…Which subject was this?" she asked.
"Life science," Laddu replied without blinking.
"Practical class."
Mochi pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
"So," she said slowly, "your syllabus included bathing?"
"Yes," Laddu said. "But I failed attendance."
She finally laughed. 😂
A real one.
"You're lying," she said, shaking her head.
Laddu shrugged.
"Maybe."
Then, softer,
"But eating together is real."
She nodded.
"That one is true."
"And sleeping," he added carefully,
"not like that. Just… same room. Safe."
Mochi looked at him.
The joke faded.
"…You think about small things," she said.
"They matter," Laddu replied. "Big things come later."
She leaned back, resting her head lightly against his.
"Your college was strange," she said.
"Yes," Laddu agreed. "But it taught me patience."
They sat quietly after that.
No more questions.
No more syllabus.
Just two people learning their own version of the lesson 📘.
Laddu went quiet.
Too quiet.
He stared at the ground, toes drawing invisible lines in the dust.
"…I feel like an asshole when I'm near you," he said suddenly.
Mochi stiffened.
"…What?"
He shook his head quickly.
"No. Not like that. Listen."
She waited.
"I've dated fifty-one people," Laddu said. "I have stories. Letters. Memories I don't even open anymore."
He let out a breath.
"And then there's you."
Mochi didn't interrupt.
"You're… clean in a way I'm not," he continued carefully.
"Not innocent. Just honest. Present. Real."
He finally looked at her, eyes serious.
"When I joke too much, or say stupid things, it's because I don't want to dirty what we have."
Mochi frowned.
"Dirty?"
"Yes," Laddu nodded. "With my past."
She placed a hand on his cheek, firm but gentle. 🤍
"Don't compare," she said. "You lived. I lived differently."
He swallowed.
"I know," he replied.
"But when I'm near you, I want to be better than who I was."
She softened.
"That doesn't make you an asshole," Mochi said.
"That makes you human."
Laddu smiled faintly.
"…Good."
She pulled him slightly closer.
"And stop counting exes," she added. "You're bad at math anyway."
He laughed quietly. 😅
The weight lifted a little.
Not erased.
Just shared. 🌙