The rain had returned tonight, heavier than yesterday. Fat drops hammered against the glass shelter at the bus stop, forming rippling puddles at Aarohi’s feet. She tugged her scarf tighter, shifting her tote bag from one shoulder to the other as she waited.
When the bus finally groaned to a halt, she climbed on with a sigh of relief only to freeze at the sight inside.
Packed.
Absolutely packed.
Every seat was taken, people squeezed shoulder to shoulder in the aisle, clutching metal bars and dangling straps. The air smelled like damp clothes, perfume, and something faintly sweet from someone’s snack.
Her eyes flicked instinctively to the back.
There he was.
Cream hoodie this time. The color made his skin look warmer under the dim bus lights. His hair was slightly damp, darker at the edges like he’d been caught in the drizzle before getting in.
Their eyes met for the briefest second through the shifting crowd—and then the bus jolted forward, throwing her against the person in front of her. Aarohi mumbled an apology and grabbed a strap overhead, her heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with balance.
She told herself she’d just stand. That’s what everyone was doing. It was fine.
Until she felt a light tap on her wrist.
She looked down, startled, and found Arjun there leaning slightly out of his seat with one hand gripping the backrest for balance as the bus swayed.
“Come here,” he said voice low but clear over the hum of the engine.
Her throat went dry. “What?”
He shifted a little making space on the edge of his seat. “You’ll trip. Sit.”
There wasn’t really room for two, but before she could protest, another sharp turn had her stumbling forward—straight toward him. His hands caught her instinctively, steadying her by the elbows.
And just like that, she was there. Perched on the very edge of the seat, her shoulder pressed into his chest, the solid warmth of him seeping through the cream cotton of his hoodie. Her tote bag sat awkwardly on her lap, but she barely noticed.
The bus rumbled on. Her pulse roared louder.
“Thanks,” she managed, her voice thinner than she’d like.
“No problem,” he said, and she felt rather than saw the curve of his mouth.
They stayed like that for a few heartbeats just closer than they’d ever been, close enough that she could smell his cologne under the faint scent of rain, something clean and woody that made her dizzy.
Aarohi told herself to focus on something else. Anything else. So she stared at the window, where raindrops blurred the city lights into soft streaks.
And then his phone buzzed.
Again.
The sound sliced through the quiet bubble around them like glass cracking.
She didn’t mean to look, but she felt the slight movement as he angled the screen away. Just enough for her to catch the faint glow. A message. A name she couldn’t read this time. His thumb moved, typing something back quickly, his expression unreadable.
And then there it was. That same smile. Small. Private. The kind that didn’t need witnesses.
Something heavy dropped in her stomach.
Her mind spun. Why was she even bothered? It wasn’t like she knew him now, not really. A stranger she’d been running into on a bus, how did that give her the right to care who he was smiling at? Was she actually going crazy? One conversation, a few stolen glances, and suddenly her chest ached over a text that had nothing to do with her.
She turned back to the window with her fingers digging into the fabric of her tote. Her reflection stared back at her in the glass, eyes stormy, confused. She hated how unsettled she felt and how easily he seemed to slip under her skin.
“Long day?” His voice pulled her back soft and warm against the chaos of her thoughts.
She nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Yours?”
“Same.” A pause, “Although this part makes it better.”
Her head snapped up before she could stop herself. He was looking at her that easy warmth in his gaze like he meant it.
Her heart tripped over itself. For a second she forgot about the phone, the smile, the knot in her chest. For a second, it was just him and the faint thrum of rain outside.
But then the bus slowed near her stop and the moment slipped like sand through her fingers.
She stood carefully feeling the ghost of his hand steady her again before she stepped away. “See you tomorrow” she said hoping her voice didn’t betray the storm inside her.
“You will” he replied like always.
When she stepped off on the drenched street, the cool wind bit against her cheeks. She walked more slowly, letting the city blur around her.
Because now it wasn’t just the question from before that haunted her.
It was something worse.
If he made her feel like this then what did that smile mean for someone else?
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