They didn't talk about what almost happened.
They pretended it didn't exist.
But silence has a sound.
And between them, it was loud.
---
The next few days felt… different.
Not cold.
Not angry.
Just distant.
Anaya noticed it when Aarav stopped sitting beside her.
When he returned to the longer dining table.
When his replies became shorter.
Not rude — just careful.
Controlled.
And that hurt more than anger ever could.
---
She told herself it was good.
Necessary.
Safe.
But safety didn't feel like this.
Safety didn't ache.
---
Aarav noticed it too.
The way Anaya no longer waited for him.
The way she no longer cooked when he came home.
The way she avoided being alone in a room with him.
Not because she disliked him.
But because she was afraid of herself.
And he couldn't blame her.
He was afraid too.
---
One evening, Anaya was folding laundry in the living room when Aarav walked in.
She didn't look up.
He hesitated.
"Anaya," he said quietly.
"Yes?" she replied, her voice polite.
Too polite.
He stood there for a moment.
Then, "Are you… avoiding me?"
She paused.
Then continued folding.
"I'm giving us space."
"That's not the same thing," he said.
"It is when closeness is dangerous," she replied.
Her words were calm.
But her hands trembled.
---
He exhaled slowly.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"I know," she said. "But that doesn't change how I feel."
"And how do you feel?" he asked.
She finally looked at him.
"Confused," she said honestly. "And scared. And… tired of pretending this doesn't affect me."
That was the most she had admitted so far.
---
He stepped closer — not too close — just enough.
"I don't want to lose whatever this is," he said quietly.
"That's exactly what scares me," she replied. "Because I don't know what *this* is."
"Neither do I," he said. "But I know it's not nothing."
Silence stretched.
"I don't want to hurt you," he added.
"Then don't make me feel," she said softly.
"That's not something I can control," he replied.
"Then we're both in trouble," she whispered.
---
That night, Anaya sat on her bed, hugging her knees.
She didn't cry.
She just felt… heavy.
She wanted to be strong.
She wanted to be careful.
But she also wanted to feel chosen.
And that desire scared her more than loneliness ever had.
---
In his room, Aarav stood by the window, staring at the city lights.
He had always believed emotions were weaknesses.
Distractions.
Now he realized something worse.
They were needs.
And he didn't know how to manage them.
---
The next morning, Anaya left early.
When she returned, Aarav was on a call.
She passed the living room quietly.
But she heard a female voice on the other end.
Light.
Familiar.
Friendly.
She didn't stop.
She didn't ask.
But something inside her tightened.
Not jealousy.
Not yet.
Just awareness.
---
Later that evening, Aarav noticed her silence.
"You're quiet today," he said.
"I'm always quiet," she replied.
"No," he said. "Today it's different."
She didn't answer.
Because if she did, she might say something she wasn't ready to admit.
---
That night, they sat in the same house.
Same rooms.
Same walls.
But emotionally…
They were farther apart than ever.
And both of them felt it.
---