Rooh

I sat across my vanity, lip gloss in hand, going over with the soft wand as I topped the lipstick with a clear gloss. The fairy light hanging from the vanity twinks, reflecting off the sheer gloss. My hands slightly tremble as I put away the lip gloss and stare at myself.

My hair fell around me in soft waves, and the white dress I'd brought especially for today hugged my body like a second skin as it flowed into a maxi skirt reaching my ankles.

Today was the day. I was finally going on a date with my crush. We were going to be official. It's happening.

I shake my head in excitement as I hear a chuckle behind me. Anvi steps out of my closet with a bag of jewerelly, digging into it to find something which matches my outfit. She finally pulls out two flower shaped studs before holding them to my ears.

"Looks good to me," she giggles, her hand softly ruffling my hair to avoid ruining the curls.

"You think he'll like them?" I ask, taking the earrings from her.

She lets out a laugh before shaking her head, "Rooh, he's head over heels for you. I swear, you could show up in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, and he'd still think you hung the stars."

A blush blooms across my cheeks, soft and warm, as I duck my head to hide the stupidly wide grin stretching across my face.

He likes me. Avi Kapoor likes me.

Heart fluttering, I fasten the flower-shaped studs in place, fingers a little clumsy now. Then I glance at Anvi, excitement bubbling in my chest.

"Di," I say, handing her my phone, "take a picture, na? I wanna remember today."

She lights up immediately, raising the phone as I pose, twirling slightly, grinning like a fool, and she captures every moment like it's something golden.

Anvi lowers the phone with a satisfied grin, scrolling through the pictures. "Okay, you look ridiculously pretty. If Avi doesn't faint when he sees you, I'll question his eyesight."

I laugh, cheeks still warm. "Stop hyping him up, you'll jinx it."

She flops back onto my bed, phone still in hand, and I settle beside her, tucking my knees to my chest. For a few moments, we sit in comfortable silence. The buzz of the evening is still alive in my chest, but another thought tugs at me.

After a moment, I nudge her with my elbow. "So... when are you seeing Ishaan next?"

She peeks at me from under her arm. "Tomorrow, maybe. After his extra class ends."

I raise an eyebrow. "Maybe? That's not very romantic."

She sits up, fluffing a pillow behind her. "Excuse me, we spent six hours on the phone last night because he couldn't fall asleep without hearing my voice."

I gasp, clutching my chest. "That's disgustingly cute. I feel sick."

She smacks me with the pillow, and I let out a squeal of happiness. I shake my head at her before asking another question, "But... you're happy, right?"

She pauses for a second, then nods with a softness that settles into her expression. "Not just happy, I think this is the most joy I've ever felt in my life. Mom and Dad's absence in the house always created a void in my heart, and even though I had you guys, Aayan bhaiya, Shiv. The emptiness never really went away," She lets out a soft sigh. "His presence fills that emptiness with life and laughter, I can't stop grinning at his silly ways, and I thought I'd never say this about anyone, but he gives me the butterflies. Crazy ones."

I smile softly as the realisation hits me, "You're in love!"

She grins proudly before hiding her face behind a pillow out of shyness, "I am, I love Ishaan Khurana, and no power in the world is ever taking that man away from me."

My heart warms at her expression. I feel her. I understand her.

Because love like that, the quiet, certain kind, doesn't always need grand gestures. Sometimes, it just sits beside you on your bed, smiling at your happiness like it's her own.

There's no doubt in my heart anymore, I'm in love with Avi. It didn't happen all at once. It grew with us, alongside us, like sunlight slipping through leaves in slow, steady patterns. And instead of fading, the feeling only deepened with time. That's why I knew Anvi would understand.

That's why it's her here tonight, zipping up my dress, clicking pictures, listening like she always does, and not Kaynaaz.

Because Kaynaaz... she refuses to see me with Avi. To her, he's still the boy who made me cry when I couldn't move on, the one my heart clung to when it hurt the most. She's so tangled in her past that she can't let go of the pain long enough to see where healing begins.

She doesn't see what Avi has become to me now.
But Anvi does.

Anvi stretches, arms lifting above her head with a dramatic yawn. "Alright, Rooh. I've played stylist, therapist, photographer, and hype woman. My shift here is done."

I laugh as she adjusts the hem of her top and grabs her phone from the bedside table. She walks toward the door, but before opening it, she pauses, glancing back at me with that annoyingly knowing smirk she's perfected over the years. Her voice drops into something mock-serious, complete with a pointed finger.

"Also," she says, "use protection."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

She grins wider. "I'm just saying! You're all dolled up, Avi's helpless around you, and you two are going to be alone for hours... on a college fairground... at night..."

I stare at her, scandalised. "Di! You're disgusting."

She shrugs, smug. "I'm being responsible."

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes. "Did you use protection?"

Her expression freezes for a split second. Then: "You little devil!" she shrieks, grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it at me.

I duck, laughing so hard I nearly fall off the bed. "You started it!"

"I'm going to kill you," she mutters, laughing too, even as she tries to compose herself. "This is why you're not allowed to talk back to your elders."

"Elders who suggest such heinous acts?" I grin at her.

She holds up a hand dramatically. "Respect your seniors."

"Respect your filters."

She tosses her hair like she's walking off a stage and heads to the door for real this time. "I'm leaving before you ask anything else horrifying."

But right before she steps out, she turns over her shoulder, her tone softer now.

"Have fun, Rooh. You deserve to be happy."

My smile lingers long after the door clicks shut.

After Anvi leaves, the room settles into a hushed kind of stillness, not empty, just waiting. I move to the window and curl up on the ledge, resting my chin on my knees. Outside, the world is shifting shades like a canvas being slowly painted by a sleepy artist.

The sky is turning that perfect in-between, not quite gold, not yet indigo. Just soft lilacs bleeding into coral, peach melting into lavender. It's my favourite time of day, the kind that makes everything feel like it's holding its breath. Even the wind seems to hush, as if it knows this light won't last long.

My fingers absentmindedly play with the edge of my dress as I watch a group of birds arc across the sky in a quiet V-formation, heading somewhere I'll never follow. The street below starts to buzz with early evening sounds, scooters puttering by, the occasional bark of a restless dog, a vendor's bell in the distance.

6:42 p.m.

I glance at the clock on my dresser.

Almost an hour until I see him.

Avi.

I press my forehead lightly against the cool glass and smile to myself, chest full of quiet, fluttering nerves. He promised he'd wait by the gate for me. Hopefully with flowers, because that just seems like something he'd do.

The dress fits just right. The lipstick isn't too much. The earrings catch just enough light. I check everything one last time — shoes by the door, bag packed, hair smooth.

6:57 p.m.

The sky outside is deepening now, warm tones giving way to duskier blues. The kind of blue that feels like velvet. I'm ready. I take one last breath, one last look at myself in the mirror. One last smile.

Just as I reach for my bag, the air in the house shifts. A sound, the front door slamming hard enough to rattle the frame, slices through the stillness like a blade.

I freeze.

The footsteps that follow are heavy and fast, purposeful. I don't need to see him to know it's Papa. I don't need to see his face to know something is wrong.
Very wrong.

The door of my bedroom bursts open, and he stands there, taller than the doorframe, exhaustion clinging to the lines of his face, his tie hanging loose like a noose around his neck. His eyes sweep over me. Once. Slowly.

"Where do you think you're going?"

His voice is low, calm in that sharp, dangerous way that always comes before the storm. I swallow, heart thudding against my ribs. "I was just going out with Anvi. Dinner. That's all."

His brow lifts. He takes a slow step into the room, gaze lingering on the dress, the heels by the door, the kohl around my eyes. From his fist, he tosses a crumpled sheet of paper onto my bed. It floats for a moment before landing face-up beside my pillow.

I don't need to look. The paper already burns like fire in my peripheral vision.

He steps closer. "Is this why you thought you deserved to go out?"

I look down at the paper anyway, even though I already know every number on it. I know how they fell short, how they carved a hollow in me, I've been trying to fill in silence. The smile that had been holding steady on my face begins to wither, piece by piece.

"I've been trying," I whisper, barely audible. "I thought just for tonight..."

"No," he snaps, then breathes out slowly as if trying to leash the frustration. "Rooh, don't do that."

His voice softens, but the edge remains. "I love you. You know that. But this?" He gestures toward the paper. "These grades? They're not okay. They're not even close to what you're capable of."

I blink back the sting in my eyes, trying to find something to say. But my throat is closing up, tightening around every word I can't form.

"I can do better," I try again. "Just... let me go tonight. Please."

He exhales sharply, almost as if it hurts him to hear me beg.

"This isn't about one night," he says, avoiding my eyes now. "It's about all the other nights you didn't do what needed to be done. I can't keep watching you fall behind and pretend like it's fine."

"I'm not falling behind—"

"You are." His voice cracks, not loud, but final. "You just don't see it yet."

I bite down hard on my lower lip. The tears break free anyway, sliding silently down my cheeks. Not dramatic. Not pleading. Just... helpless.

But he doesn't look at me.

He won't.

Instead, he straightens, already turning toward the door. "You're grounded, Rooh. No outings. No phone. No more chances."

His words feel like cement setting around my ribs.

"Baba, please," I whisper.

"I said no."

Then, quieter. "Give me your phone."

I hesitate. For a second, I actually think I might say no.

"Rooh," he says again, firmer now. "Your phone."

But my fingers move on their own, slow and reluctant. I reach into my bag, pull out the phone that holds everything and place it in his hand. His fingers close around it without hesitation.

Without looking back, he steps out of the room and pulls the door shut behind him.

Click.

Just like that, the silence returns.

But it's not the same silence as before.

It's the kind that settles into your skin. The kind that leaves you cold. The kind that reminds you exactly how small you are, when all you wanted was to feel full of light.

I stare at the space where he'd stood only moments ago. The crumpled paper lies abandoned on my bed, like a wound reopened. The dress I'd carefully chosen suddenly feels too bright, too loud.

. . .

I wake with a start, the kind that isn't sudden or dramatic, just... unsettling. My eyes blink open slowly, the ceiling above me blurred in the faint silver of moonlight spilling through the half-open curtain. For a few seconds, I don't move.

Then I shift, and the soft rustle of fabric reminds me, I'm still in the white dress.

Everything comes back at once.

The fight.
Baba's voice, sharp and full of disappointment.
The weight of my report card landed on the bed.

The silence that followed when I had no strength left to argue.

I never changed. Never washed my face. Never touched the dinner tray Ma left on my study table.

Instead, I had curled into myself, still wearing the dress I picked out so carefully, the one Anvi zipped up while teasing me about Avi. The one I was supposed to twirl in under fairy lights and Ferris wheel stars.

Now it's wrinkled and damp from tears, the hem bunched beneath me. My makeup is smudged, cheeks sticky with dried saltwater. The perfume I wore still lingers faintly on my skin sweet and floral. It makes me ache.

I sit up slowly, wincing at the tightness in my chest. The room is dark, quiet, like the world has moved on without me. I glance toward my bedside table on instinct. But there's no phone there. No way to check the time. No glowing message from Avi asking where I am. Just a silent stretch of shadow, and the sound of my breathing.

I pull my knees to my chest and rest my chin on them, trying to blink away the sting behind my eyes. I thought if I slept long enough, the disappointment would fade. But it hasn't. It just settled in deeper, like dust that won't lift.

And then I hear a knock. The sound is small and deliberate.

I freeze. My heart skips.

Another knock follows. Softer. Like a secret.

Not at the door. At the window.

I rise slowly, bare feet brushing the floor, every movement quiet and unsure. I walk to the window and pull the curtain back, not expecting anything.

But he's there.

Avi.

Standing just beneath the frame, looking up at me with his helmet in one hand, his hair a mess of wind and night, and his eyes... his eyes fixed only on me.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

I let out a startled shriek the second I saw him, eyes wide with disbelief. "Avi?!"

He grins up at me like it's the most normal thing in the world to be hanging outside someone's window at, what, midnight?

Without thinking, I fumble with the latch and shove the window open wide. A rush of night air floods into the room, cool and laced with the scent of damp earth and city smoke.

"What are you doing here? I—I mean, I—"

But before I can finish, he shakes his head, that familiar, half-playful glint in his eyes.

"Did you forget our date?" he asks, still dangling like a lunatic from the ledge.

I gape at him, completely speechless for a second, before realising, "Oh my god, get in before you fall and die."

With the ease of someone who's definitely done this before, he swings his leg over the sill and climbs in, landing softly on the floor with a quiet thud. His helmet slips from his hand and drops to the carpet with a dull thump.

"I didn't forget," I blurt out, hands flying as if I can explain it all in one breath. "It's just, my dad found out about my grades, and he got so mad, and now I'm grounded, and he took my phone, and I couldn't even text you. You must've waited for me and I—"

I don't even realise I'm rambling until I see him smile. Gently. Patiently. Then, without a word, he reaches out and pulls me into his arms. I fall against his chest with a soft exhale, my hands curling into the fabric of his hoodie. His scent surrounds me immediately, faint traces of wind, motor oil, and something undeniably his.

"Turn off your brain, princess," he murmurs, his voice warm against the crown of my head. "You're rumbling again."

I feel his chest shake with quiet laughter as one hand rises to stroke my hair gently, fingers moving through the tangles like I'm something delicate.

And just like that, the ache begins to fade. The weight of the evening, the sharp sting of my father's words, the guilt twisting in my stomach, all of it dulls in his embrace. And I let my peace be for a few minutes.

I pull back from his chest after a while, just enough to look up at him, blinking away the last of the tears. "You shouldn't be here," I whisper, even though I don't mean it. "If Baba sees you—if anyone sees you—"

Avi just raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "What's life without a little risk, hmm?"

I give him a half-hearted glare. "You're insane."

"And yet," he says, leaning closer, "you're the one still in the dress. Still looking like you were about to walk into magic."

My heart skips. I look down at the wrinkled fabric, suddenly aware again of how I'd fallen asleep in it, how it no longer feels perfect. But Avi doesn't seem to care. His eyes still look at me like I'm everything.

"I can't go," I say, voice barely above a breath. "I'm grounded. He took my phone. If he finds out I'm gone—"

He grins, eyes glinting with mischief. "Then we better make sure he doesn't."

I open my mouth to protest again, but he reaches for my hand, and everything inside me quiets.

"Rooh," he says gently. "Just one night. Come with me."

And maybe I should say no. Maybe I should be responsible. Listen to Baba. Stay hidden like a good daughter and cry quietly into my pillow for the rest of the week.

But the way he's looking at me now makes something spark inside my chest. A soft rebellion. A forgotten thrill. I exhale slowly, squeezing his hand.

"Fine," I whisper. "But if we get caught, you're taking the blame."

"Deal," he grins.

We tiptoe out of my room like children who know they've already gone too far. I slip on my sandals, and he helps me climb back out through the window, his hand never once letting go of mine.

The street is quiet, sleeping. His bike waits at the corner like it's part of the plan—sleek, black, just as bold as him. He hands me the helmet with a wink. "Your chariot, milady."

I laugh, nerves buzzing in my stomach. I slide the helmet on, swing one leg over the bike, and settle in behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

My cheek presses lightly against his back. His warmth seeps through the fabric of his hoodie. The world feels smaller here. Safer.

Then the engine roars to life, and we're flying.

The wind whips through my hair, cold against my cheeks, but I don't care. I hold tighter, the city blurring around us as we speed past dim streetlights and sleeping buildings. Every second feels stolen, precious. Like we're racing away from everything that tried to keep us apart.

I feel alive.

Free.

And then I see it, golden lights twinkling in the distance like stars scattered across the ground. The fairgrounds.

The college gates are still open for set-up crews, but everything glows with quiet energy. The Ferris wheel lights spinning slowly. Stalls being tested. Laughter echoed faintly in the distance.

He parks near the back, hidden just behind the food stalls. I hop off the bike, breathless, my heart pounding.

The air changes the moment we step through the back gates.

It smells like spun sugar and night rain, sweet and sharp all at once. Bright lights blink in every colour imaginable, stretched across stalls and hanging from poles, casting a warm, golden haze over everything. Music thrums faintly in the distance, a mix of old love songs and carnival jingles that bleed into one another like background static. Couples share paper cones of popcorn, and the sound of mechanical rides shifting and squealing gives everything a pulse.

Avi passes me a smile as his warm hands take hold of mine, before dragging us into the carnival without a second thought.

The next hour slips past like a dream I don't want to wake from. We don't talk much, we don't need to. We just move. Ride.

The fair is alive around us, music humming through the air, golden lights spinning, the smell of popcorn and fried sugar drifting between crowded lanes. I lose count of how many stalls we visit, how many rides we go on, how many times he reaches for my hand like it's second nature.

We bump shoulders on the carousel. Share a stolen bite of cotton candy near the shooting gallery. Laugh too loudly when the ride operator mistakes us for a couple, and Avi doesn't correct him. I pretend not to notice the way my heart flutters every time his fingers brush against mine. He pretends he doesn't see me staring.

And then, at one of those silly claw machine stalls he insists are rigged, he wins something. A small, green dragon plushie. It's slightly lopsided, one eye stitched on a little too high, but when he holds it out to me, it feels perfect.

"It's got attitude," he grins. "Like someone else I know."

I take it, hugging it to my chest. "It's ridiculous."

"Exactly why it reminded me of you."

I laugh, but I don't let go of it.

And maybe it's the lights, or the music, or the fact that my world has narrowed down to just this moment, but I know I'll never forget the way he looks at me right then. Like I'm not Rooh with bad grades and a grounded curfew.

Just Rooh.

His Rooh.

"Anything else you want to do?" he asks quietly, his voice edged with something careful. Like he doesn't want the night to end, but won't say it first. I almost shake my head.

Almost say, this was enough.

Because it is. The escape, the rush, the joy that stitched itself back into my chest, all of it feels more than enough.

But then I see it.

Tall and bright and glowing like it belongs to another world—the Ferris wheel.
It rises above the stalls and rides like something out of a fairytale, each light blinking gently in motion, turning slowly into the night sky.

My breath catches, and I stop walking.

He follows my gaze, then looks down at me, the softest smile tugging at his mouth. I don't say a word, I just grab his wrist, fingers curling around his hoodie sleeve, and start pulling him toward it. He chuckles under his breath and follows, no resistance, just that quiet patience I've always loved about him.

We reach the wheel just as an empty cart swings down to meet the ground. The operator barely glances at us before nodding us forward. I hesitate for a heartbeat, then climb in, careful not to drop the plushie still pressed to my chest.

Avi settles beside me, knee brushing against mine, his arm resting along the back of the seat. The metal bar locks into place with a gentle click.

We begin to rise.

At first, it's slow and steady. The ground slipping away beneath us, the fair shrinking into patches of light and colour. My heart climbs with the wheel, each movement drawing me further from everything that hurt, everything that held me back.

From up here, the world looks softer. Simpler.

"I used to be scared of these," I whisper after a minute, watching the tiny lights blur beneath us. "I thought I'd fall right out if I looked down."

Avi turns toward me slightly, his leg pressing into mine. "And now?"

I shrug, still watching the horizon. "Now I'm not."

He doesn't speak, but I feel the way he's looking at me. I can feel it in my skin, the way his gaze settles gently on my face like a breath I didn't realise I was holding.

"Avi..." I whisper, not even sure what I'm asking.

He shifts in his seat slightly, like he's steadying himself before a leap. "You know, back in school," he starts, voice low and full of something quieter than regret, maybe, "I tried so many times to talk to you."

I blink, surprised.

"You'd run the other way the second I so much as smiled at you," he adds with a soft laugh, like the memory still lingers in him.

"I didn't—" I begin, heat rushing to my cheeks.

"I know," he says gently, cutting me off without cutting me down. "You were younger. Scared. Maybe annoyed. I never pushed it. But part of me always hoped you'd turn around."

He looks out over the fair for a second, the lights flickering in his eyes. Then he turns back to me, and I can see it everything he's carried for years.

"And when I graduated, I thought that was it. Thought I'd lost my chance. I tried to move on. Tried not to think about the girl who never gave me a proper look back."

His smile fades, just a little. "But then... You walked onto campus. Right there on orientation day. And I swear, Rooh, everything I tried to bury just came flooding back."

My chest tightens.

"I've liked you since I was seventeen," he continues. "And now that you're here, now that I've got you sitting beside me on a damn Ferris wheel, I'm not holding it in anymore."

He exhales slowly, voice barely above the wind.

"I like you, Rooh." He pauses before shaking his head, "Hell, I think I'm in love with you. From your rumbling to your clumsiness to the way your eyes never mask any emotions. Your hair, your words, your voice, they make me feel alive. Even the worst of the worst days, seeing your face only passing in the corridors, fills me with life. I'm starting to fall in love, and I hold my heart when I say, I hope you are too."

The words hit like a gentle wave—soft, but pulling something deep inside me loose.

Then the Ferris wheel halts. Our cart lingers at the very top, suspended between stars and earth, the rest of the world falling away below us in a blur of golden lights and laughter. It's quiet here, so quiet it feels unreal. Like we've slipped into a pocket of time made just for this.

I blink once. Then again.

A slow, warm tear spills from the corner of my eye, catching on my cheek before I can stop it. I don't even try to wipe it away.

He's still watching me, eyes wide now with concern. "Rooh—"

I don't let him finish.

I lean forward.

I kiss him.

Not because I know what comes next, or because I've planned any of this. I kiss him because in that moment, with the world paused and my heart aching and full all at once, there's simply nothing else I can do.

His lips meet mine gently, like he's afraid to break the moment. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, brushing his thumb along the damp curve of it, holding me like I might vanish. And I kiss him harder.

And when I finally pull away, breath catching, he draws back just enough to look at me.

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "That was fast. I shouldn't have.. I didn't want to make you cry, Rooh. This is probably all too much—"

"Shut up," I whisper, laughing through the last of my tears, my voice still thick with everything I feel. He blinks, caught off guard.

"You're ruining the moment," I murmur, resting my forehead against his.

His lips curve into a smile, slow and boyish, the kind that used to make my stomach flutter when I caught glimpses of him across school corridors. Now it's just us, suspended above the world in this quiet little bubble of light and wind and things we didn't say until tonight.

He rests his forehead against mine. Neither of us speaks. We don't need to.

Down below, the fair keeps spinning. The Ferris wheel starts to move again, slow and steady. But even as we begin our descent, even as the lights blur and gravity tugs us back to earth, I don't feel like I'm coming down.

And in this moment, I finally let myself believe that maybe love, when it finds you again, is worth every single time you were afraid to look back.