The sky's dipped in cotton-candy haze — streaks of gold and lavender melting into city noise.
It's quiet up here. The kind of quiet that doesn't feel empty.
Just… waiting.
Inaya stepped onto the rooftop, fingers clenched tightly around the strap of her sling bag. She's dressed like she didn't try too hard — which means she absolutely did.
Her eyes scanned. And there he was.
Rabin, stood by the edge, his back half-turned, the wind tugging at his shirt like it wanted to take him somewhere he didn't want to go.
He heard the door click. Turned.
Their eyes meet.
A beat. A silence. A million feelings in the gap.
"I thought I was imagining it.
You were pulling away."
(She breathed. Didn't blink.)
"I wanted to believe it was in my head.
But it wasn't, was it?" Inaya said her voice soft but firm
"It wasn't about you.
It was about me.
Which—I know—is the most cliché thing I could say right now."
(He lets out a bitter laugh like the line disgusts even him.)
"But it's the truth." Rabin voiced low, apologetic, and cracked around the edges
They stand across from each other, just a few feet apart —
But it might as well be a galaxy.
The city buzzed below. Lights flickered on. But here? It's just them and the truth hanging heavy in the air.
The golden hour had started to bleed into twilight. There's wind now — not strong, but present like the world itself is leaning in to listen.
Rabin looked at Inaya. And she's not demanding anything.
Just waiting. Like she's saying,
"You don't have to give me everything. Just something real."
And so he does.
Rabin started, his voice soft almost like he was scared the words might break, "You know how people always say, 'I have trust issues'?
I used to laugh at that.
Until I realized mine weren't cute or quirky — they were survival."
(Pause. A beat. He looked down at his hands.)
"My mom left when I was twelve.
No warning. No note.
Just… vanished.
Took her coat, her suitcase, and whatever part of me used to believe in staying."
(He swallowed hard. Inaya stayed completely still.)
"My dad didn't take it well.
He got quieter.
And I thought maybe if I stayed quiet too, I'd get it right.
That silence would make people stay.
That maybe if I didn't take up space, no one would leave again."
(He laughed again. But softer now. Like he's already tired of hurting.)
"Spoiler alert: it didn't work.
I had a best friend once — back in Tokyo.
She knew about all of it.
And one day she just... stopped showing up.
New friends. New life. A new version of her that didn't include the broken boy with abandonment stitched into his skin."
(He looked at Inaya now. Really looked.)
"So when you started getting close?
I panicked.
I thought — if I let her in, I'll start hoping.
And hope is dangerous.
Hope is the thing that makes the fall worse when people leave."
He exhaled. Like he just emptied a room that's been locked for years.
And he said it — the line he's never said to anyone else:
"I didn't pull away because I didn't care.
I pulled away because I cared too much.
And I didn't trust myself to be enough."
Rabin's voice faded.
Not because he's done — but because he's never said this out loud before. And now that he has? He's terrified of what comes next.
Inaya's eyes didn't leave him.
Not once.
She didn't gasp.
Didn't try to rush in and fix anything.
She just takes a step closer.
And then — softly, like a secret being returned
"You know what I used to do when I was ten?"
(She gave a tiny smile. One that doesn't reach her eyes yet.)
"I'd sit on the balcony at night and try to guess who the airplanes belonged to.
Like—whose life was changing up there while mine was stuck in rewind." Inaya said
(She looked up at the sky for a second, then back at him.)
"I didn't know what it meant back then.
But now? I think I just wanted to believe that somewhere, someone was choosing to go back.
That not all leaving meant goodbye."
(A beat. Her voice is gentler now.)
"You're not too much, Rabin.
And you're not broken.
You're just… human.
And terrified.
Like the rest of us."
(Her fingers twitch at her side. But she doesn't reach out. Not yet.)
"I don't need you to be perfect.
I don't need you to be ready.
I just need you to be real.
To try. Even if you're scared."
(Finally, she stepped closer. Her voice softens into something so Inaya it aches.)
"Because I've been scared too.
Of being second.
Of being temporary.
Of handing people all the best parts of me and watching them walk away like they never mattered."
(She met his eyes, and holds his gaze steady.)
"But I stayed. I'm still staying.
And I just need to know…
Can you try staying too?"
A breathless silence.
Wind in their hair. Heartbeats are so loud it's like the stars can hear them.
No promises.
No big declarations.
Just truth.
A girl who's scared but present.
And a boy who might just believe her.
Inaya's words still hung in the air —
not like a question,
But like a hand held out in the dark.
Rabin just stared at her.
His breathing is uneven.
His fingers twitch slightly.
He's thinking. Thinking too hard.
And then — without saying anything —
He stepped forward.
Just two small steps.
And pulled her in.
Arms around her.
Tight. Hesitant for a second — like maybe she'll pull away —
And then all at once, like he's been waiting months to do this.
"Thank you.
For not running." He whispered
Inaya doesn't speak.
She just presses her cheek into his chest, eyes fluttering shut, arms wrapping around his waist.
And for a second, she doesn't feel like too much.
She feels held.
"You have no idea how many letters I almost stopped writing," Inaya said voice muffled against him.
"But you didn't."
(he exhales, forehead dropping lightly onto her hair)
"You stayed."
The rooftop wind moves around them like a secret.
Everything is quiet.
Except for the heartbeat, they're both hearing up close now.
Not fast.
Not panicked.
Just… there.
Like a promise.
And in that rooftop hush, where words had finally run out, they held each other like maybe—just maybe—they'd finally found the silence that didn't ache.
Golden light slips through dusty windows, making the cafeteria look almost magical. The food's half-eaten, the drinks are mostly melted, but the vibes? Immaculate.
Ava, Arnav, Kavya, and Hideya are sitting at their regular corner table.
Except this time — there's this new kind of energy. One where knees brush under tables and glances last a second too long.
"So. Rooftop scene going long. You think they're making out or just emotionally combusting?" Ava grinned, stealing fries from Arnav's tray
"AVA?! This is a softburn fic. We are classy." Arnav said pretending to be horrified
"Oh please. You literally texted me 'KISS HER YOU COWARD' during Episode 2." Ava said
"She's not wrong. I caught you two replaying that rooftop moment on full volume like it was a K-drama finale." Kavya smirked looking at Hideya
"Correction. She replayed it. I was just admiring the cinematography." Hideya said trying to be cool as hell but his hand was resting on Kavya's thigh under the table
"Oh my god. They're all so in love it's disgusting." Ava mock-shocked
"And yet you're still holding my hand under the table." Arnav leaned closer to her, lowkey smug
"Only because your thumb does that thing when you're nervous and it's cute," Ava said without missing a beat
(A beat. Arnav goes red. Ava wins.)
They all laugh. Loud, real, glowing.
Like the kind of laughter that only happens when you forget to guard your heart.
"Wild how we started with letters… and ended up here," Kavya said softly, watching the sun hit Hideya's face just right.t
"Still kind of writing our stories. Just… together now." Hideya said.
(He gently knocks his knee against hers. She smiles so wide it's ridiculous.)
"If BinAya doesn't kiss soon, I'm hijacking this novel and making it about us," Ava said sounding as dramatic as ever):
"Too late. I'm already drafting Letters from the Flirty Side." Arnav said
"God save this friend group." Hideya mock groaned
The doors swing open.
Rabin and Inaya walk in together — a soft, tentative closeness between them. Their shoulders brush as they laugh quietly about something only they understand.
Rabin's hand grazes hers once.
Then again — intentional this time.
The rest of the group clocks them instantly.
"LOOK WHO DECIDED TO JOIN THE LIVING." Arnav gasped loud and fake
"Ohhhhhh, they hugged. They hugged-hugged. That's a post-trauma, post-reconciliation glowy aura if I've ever seen one." Ava said
"BinAya canon? BinAya canon." Kavya grinned ear-to-ear
"You're glowing, lover boy," Hideya smirked at Rabin
Rabin blushes. Inaya rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. Like really smiling. The kind of smile you don't fake.
She sits down next to Kavya. Rabin perches awkwardly beside her.
They barely even get to speak.
Because—buzz. buzz. buzz.
Inaya's phone lights up.
Three missed calls. Five unread texts. One bolded line:
"I've been waiting at the library for 20 minutes?? Did you forget our meeting??"
Her eyes widen.
Inaya:
"Oh my god."
"What's wrong?" Kavya asked noticing her panic
"My psych partner. My project partner. I completely forgot we were supposed to meet tonight—he's been texting nonstop." Inaya said already grabbing her bag
"You okay?" Rabin frowned gently
"I need to go. Like now. He's probably going to drop me from the project or, I don't know, burn me in academic effigy." Inaya bit her lip
"Drama queen." Arnav sighed.
"You do have main character syndrome though. Go. We'll keep your seat warm." Ava said
"Wait, who's this mystery partner?" Hideya raised an eyebrow as Inaya's grabbed her bag
"Paxon. Paxon Sen. Psych minor. Big menace energy." Inaya said already halfway to standing
"Oh, him. Dude's got a superiority complex and a savior complex fighting to the death every day." Arnav snorted
"Wait, the guy who did that whole 'are we all just constructs of our childhood trauma' presentation last week??" Ava asked.
"The one who said he'd rather get hit by a bus than work in a group project, but still somehow ended up paired with Inaya?" Kavya asked
"They've got this whole I-hate-you-but-also-can't-function-without-you friendship thing. It's exhausting to witness, 10/10 sitcom energy." Arnav smirked
"Oof. Competition much?" Hideya teased
"He sounds… intense," Hideya said in a totally not jealous voice
"He's harmless. Mostly. Just loud and dramatic and annoying. And smarter than he looks." Inaya shrugged as she shoved her phone into her hoodie pocket
Rabin hummed.
"You okay there, Mr. Crane Folder?" Ava nudged him playfully
"Totally. I'm just... picturing their academic debates. Bet it's like watching a soap opera set in a psych lab." Rabin chuckled softly, very much in denial
"Oh, it IS. One time they argued for twenty minutes about which philosopher would win in a fistfight."
"Paxon said Freud would win purely out of repressed rage. Inaya said Jung would have shadow powers." Kavya laughed
"Please tell me that argument's on YouTube." Hideya giggled
"Y'all are actual menaces. Bye now!" Inaya said from the doorway
Rabin watches her disappear through the door, the light chatter around him fading into static for a second. His fingers twitch near his mug as if he's about to fold something — anything — just to keep them from reacting.
NYU LIBRARY – NIGHT
The grand doors of the library groan open.
Inaya rushes in like a caffeine tornado with regret in her eyes. Her bangs are frizzing, her bag slipping off one shoulder, scarf caught on the doorknob.
Across the room, Paxon Sen looks up — barely.
He's seated with his legs crossed like he's presenting a TED Talk to invisible skeptics. Hood up. Reading glasses halfway down his nose. Hair tied back in a lazy bun. He's surrounded by books, highlighters, and judgment.
"Seventeen minutes late. Congratulations. That's a new record." Paxon said without looking up
"I got held up. Real life happened. Some of us don't live in a Google Calendar, Sen."
"You still smell like poetry and guilt. Did you write another tragic email before coming here?" Paxon looked up deadpan
"Shut up." Inaya flinched
She drops into the chair across from him. Her pencil case explodes across the table. He raises a single eyebrow.
"So which poor soul stole your attention this time?"
"I said shut up."
"Got it. It's a him."
"You're insufferable."
"I'm your academic soulmate."
"You're my academic parasite."
They glare. Pens click. Papers shuffle.
Somewhere, a freshman peeks over a shelf and immediately retreats.
They're leaning over the same paper now — shoulders nearly touching, arguing over sentence structure.
"That's not a conclusion. That's an emotional outburst in APA format."
"It's powerful," Inaya said defensively
"It's borderline melodrama."
"It's my truth!"
"Then put it in italics and call it a vibe. This is research."
He pushed his laptop toward her. She scowled, but read. Then sighed.
"Okay. Fine. But you're still annoying."
"And you're distracted."
Pause.
"You walked in glowing." Paxon said casually
She freezes.
"Not metaphorically. Like literally glowing. I thought maybe you found closure. Or someone. Or both." Paxon said
"I'm just… happy." Inaya said quietly
Paxon hummed
He underlines something. Doesn't look up.
"You've got that look, you know. The kind people get when they're choosing someone... even when it hurts."
Inaya blinks. Her fingers curl around the edge of her sleeve.
"Hope he knows. Whoever he is."
She stares at him — stunned. Softened. A little terrified.
But she says nothing.
They return to work. But neither of them is really reading.
The group ducks behind a nearby shelf, peeking between the gaps in the books like absolute menaces. Kavya crouched like she was watching a soap opera. Arnav is eating a granola bar out of spite. Rabin just stands there. Still. Frozen. Absorbing.
They're close enough now to hear everything.
"You always do that." Paxon whispered
"Do what?" Inaya confused
"You get this… tone. Like you're quoting someone you never want to forget."
"I'm literally reading academic stats right now."
"Exactly. How do you make APA formatting sound like heartbreak?"
"OH MY GOD WHAT." Kavya hid behind the shelf, whispering
"He talks like he highlights books for emotional support," Ava said her mouth wide open
"I hate how smooth that was," Arnav whispered almost chocking on his granola
"You're impossible." Inaya laughed talking to Paxon
"And you're addicted to metaphors. Admit it." Paxon smirked
"Says the man who described capitalism as 'a spiritual void in slacks.'" Inaya deadpanned
"I was being generous."
They laugh again. And that laughter? That sound?
It cracks something in Rabin's chest like ice underweight.
"She never laughs like that when I'm around," Rabin said quietly
"She also never quotes APA when she's around you." Hideya said softly
"She's different with him. But not better." Ava said
"She's masking." Kavya frowned
Meanwhile—
"I still don't get how we ended up in the same group. You're chaos incarnate."
"And you're emotional constipation with a thesaurus." Inaya grinned
"I express myself."
"Through spreadsheets."
"I listen, though."
That lands. Hard.
"I know."
And for a moment…
It's quiet.
AirPods in. Eyes locked.
Not romantic, maybe.
But deeply, deeply known.
"Okay that was—like—what is this? A slow-burn spin-off?" Arnav said shaken
"She's so emotionally safe around him. It's scary." Kavya said
"I need air." Rabin said
He walks. Not fast. Not slow. Just… leaves.
His hands are stuffed in his hoodie pocket like he's trying to keep himself from falling apart on the floor of a library.
Rabin walks out slowly.
The door swings shut behind him with a click too final for comfort.
Outside, the air is cold. Brisk. Quiet.
Too quiet for the noise crashing inside his chest.
He doesn't walk far — just far enough to feel like no one can see the way his thoughts are unraveling.
Rabin's internal monologue
"I didn't know it would feel like that.
Watching her with someone else… hearing her laugh that kind of laugh — the one that's loose and light and doesn't need translating —
It was like reading a sentence and realizing you weren't the one she wrote it for.
Like maybe I was just a chapter.
And he?
He was footnotes, annotations, real-time corrections.
Someone who could sit beside her. Speak beside her.
Not just write back in the dark."
He leaned against the wall, staring up at the faint glow of the library windows. He wondered if she could feel him missing her from across the stacks.
He hates this feeling — not jealousy exactly, no.
Something worse.
Fear.
What if she realizes that being near him is easier?
What if she realizes she doesn't need letters anymore?
What if she chooses loud laughter and matching earbuds and someone who can say the right things the first time…
Instead of me?
He pulled his hoodie tighter around him like it could shield him from the ache.
She said she'd come back.
But what if one day… she doesn't?
Want to cut to Inaya sensing his absence and going after him?
Or maybe she doesn't know yet — and we take her through a moment of realization while Paxon clocks something in her eyes and backs off quietly?
Inaya shuts her laptop with a sigh, finally free from Paxon's "let's restructure this paragraph for emotional clarity" antics.
"You okay?" Paxon said
"Yeah. Just… suddenly felt like I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be."
"Then go."
She throws him a look — not annoyed. Grateful.
Grabs her bag. Slips out.
The Chaos Five™ are still lurking behind the bookshelf, not even trying to be sneaky anymore.
"I swear to god if I hear 'Freud' one more time I'm going to re-enroll as a botany major." Arnav whispered aggressively
"You re-enrolling anywhere is the fantasy here, babe." Ava hissed
"They just touched elbows. That's their version of third base." Hideya snorted
"I can't believe we're risking academic probation for this." Kavya rolled her eyes
"EXCUSE ME. If you do not shut up, I will personally ban you from this library and the building it stands on." Librarian scolded
All of them:
scurry like guilty rats
Dim, quiet, just warm enough.
Rabin is sitting on the edge of the windowsill, staring at nothing. The kind of stillness that looks like heartbreak.
He doesn't hear footsteps — not at first.
Then—
"There you are." Inaya said softly
He looks up. Surprised. A little guilty.
"I thought you'd still be inside."
"Left before I got assigned another 700-word conclusion. I value my sanity." Inaya crossed her arms playfully
He doesn't laugh. Just nods.
"Hey. Look at me." Inaya sat beside him, nudging his shoulder
He does.
"Are we okay?"
"I don't know."
That makes her heart stutter.
"I saw you laughing. With him. I mean, I know you laugh with me too. But it just… it felt different."
"It is different." Inaya said her voice extremely gentle
He turns to her, eyes searching.
"Rabin, he's my project partner. He annoys me into writing thesis statements. He doesn't know my favorite tea order. He's never read a single one of my letters."
"I wanted to ask if you liked him. But I didn't want to be that guy."
"Then don't be."
She reaches for his hand — doesn't hold it, just… rests her fingers beside his. An invitation.
"I like the way you see things no one else does. The way you fold silence into safety. The way you say my name like it means something."
He blinks.
"You left your AirPod in." Rabin whispered
"Maybe I was listening for someone else."
"Still?"
"Always."
Their hands touch. Finally.
Not holding.
Not grabbing.
Just…
There.