The week drifted into monotony.

Classes resumed.

Assignments flowed.

Life pretended to move on.

But for Anvi Verma, the echoes of a single lunch break conversation stayed on repeat in her mind.

"Main tumse distance bana raha hoon... kyunki mujhe lagta hai tumhara bhala isi mein hai."

She wanted to believe it. She really did.

But a strange hollowness followed her everywhere. In the corridors. In the physics lab. Even in her dreams.

Sometimes, we want closure. Other times, we just want the pain to be seen. Understood. Even if it can't be healed.

And Anvi... she wasn't sure which one she needed.

---

In the physics lab the next day, Aarav stood at the edge of the room, checking components for a new wave experiment. Anvi entered quietly, taking her seat in the front row. Their eyes didn't meet, but their presence clung to each other like a familiar scent.

"Today we'll be studying stationary waves," Aarav began, writing neatly on the board. "Can anyone tell me what happens when two identical waves meet in opposite directions?"

The question hung.

Anvi knew the answer.

She always did.

But she stayed silent.

"Anyone?" Aarav repeated.

Still silence.

He turned slowly, eyes scanning the class - but they paused on her, as if expecting.

And she?

She looked at him for a second too long.

Then dropped her gaze.

Aarav turned away, his voice softer now. "They create a wave that looks like it's not moving... but inside, energy is still trapped. Constantly oscillating."

Author's POV:

Some metaphors don't need explanation.

Two waves. Same in frequency. Same in strength. Heading in opposite directions.

Just like them.

And though the world might see stillness, only they knew how much energy kept trembling inside.

---

After class, Aarav packed up slowly. Anvi gathered her notes but lingered just long enough to hear him humming something faintly - an old Jagjit Singh ghazal.

> "Woh kagaz ki kashti, woh baarish ka paani..."

She froze for a moment.

It was her favorite.

She had once mentioned it in passing during an afternoon lab shift, while waiting for the voltmeter to stabilize.

He had remembered.

That small hum - it wasn't accidental.

It was an apology.

Unwritten. Unsung. But very much felt.

---

That night, rain returned.

Delhi skies thundered with a familiar ache.

Anvi sat by her window, a physics book open but forgotten in her lap. Her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

> "Kal subah terrace pe mil sakti ho?"

- A.S."

She stared at the screen.

Her heart galloped.

Not because she didn't recognize the sender. But because... he'd never texted her before.

Never needed to.

And now, he had chosen the one place where their story had truly begun.

The terrace.

---

The next morning, the sky was still gray with leftover clouds. The school was quieter than usual. Morning assembly had been cancelled due to the wet grounds.

Anvi made her way to the terrace slowly, her heart a rhythm of anxious beats.

When she pushed open the door, Aarav was already there - standing near the railing, both hands tucked in his pockets.

He turned at the sound.

Their eyes met.

He smiled - not the polite classroom smile.

But the kind that said, "I've waited for you."

---

"I wasn't sure you'd come," he said softly.

"I wasn't sure either," she replied, hugging her shawl tightly.

"I... I thought about what you said," he began.

Anvi said nothing.

Aarav continued, voice low, "You were right. I hid behind the teacher tag. I used it like a shield because... I didn't trust myself with what I was feeling."

He paused.

She still didn't speak.

"I didn't text you to complicate things, Anvi. I just... I wanted to say something I should've said a long time ago."

He turned to face her completely now.

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes flickered.

"For what?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"For seeing everything you gave and acting like I didn't."

A long silence.

Even the breeze stilled.

Then, she looked away. "I didn't need you to return anything, Sir. I just... I just wanted to matter."

"You did," he replied quickly. "You still do."

She blinked back tears. "Then why didn't you fight for it? For me?"

He stepped closer.

"Because I didn't think I deserved it."

---

Author's POV:

Some truths are buried under guilt, not indifference.

And sometimes, even the strongest feelings are caged by fear - of judgment, of consequences, of being wrong at the wrong time.

Aarav had spent months building walls.

But here, under an open sky, in front of the only girl who had ever made his pulse hesitate - he was ready to let them fall.

---

"I don't expect anything," Anvi said, her voice trembling now. "Not a promise. Not a future. I just want to know... that I wasn't alone in this."

Aarav's voice was hoarse. "You weren't."

She nodded slowly.

Then turned to leave.

He didn't stop her.

Because sometimes, letting someone walk away after telling them the truth - is more loving than asking them to stay with a lie.

---

Later that day, Anvi sat with her diary again.

> "Usne kaha - main maayne rakhti hoon.

Par kuch rishtein keval lamhon tak zinda rehte hain...

Aur kuch... silences mein jeete hain.

Shayad hum woh khamoshi ban gaye hain, jisse koi naam nahi milta.

Par aahista-aahista... uss khamoshi se dosti ho rahi hai."

---

Author's POV (Final Note for Part 15):

The terrace didn't change anything.

But it healed something.

Aarav offered a truth. Anvi found closure - not because he promised her a tomorrow, but because he finally acknowledged their yesterday.

And sometimes... that's enough.

For now.

But as long as they breathe the same air, walk the same corridors, and carry each other's echoes...

This story is far from over.

---

To Be Continued...