**A Quiet Place Between Us**

When Aarav first noticed Meera, it wasn't because she was particularly talkative or strikingly beautiful. Rather, it was because she wasn't. She sat by the window in the college library every afternoon, the sunlight falling softly on her notebook, as if she belonged there. She wrote slowly, often pausing, as if listening to thoughts no one else could hear. Aarav told himself he was simply curious, but that curiosity began to shape his days around that window seat.They spent two years on the same campus without speaking. Aarav was known for his easy smile and friendly confidence, the kind of guy who made friends effortlessly. Meera, on the other hand, wore her silence like a shawl—comfortable, protective. She spoke only when necessary and rarely laughed, but when she did, it was like a weight had been lifted.

Their first conversation happened unexpectedly. Meera dropped her pen. It rolled across the floor and stopped at Aarav's feet. He picked it up, walked over, and held it out to her. "Looks like it was trying to escape," he said. She blinked in surprise, then smiled. "It does that sometimes. Thank you."

That was all. No grand introduction. No dramatic spark. Just a pen and a smile. Yet something settled gently in Aarav's chest, like a book being placed back on the right shelf.After that, small moments began to blossom into something meaningful. Sharing a table during exams. A quiet "Good morning" that turned into a conversation. Aarav learned that Meera liked old songs and black coffee. Meera learned that Aarav wanted to travel but was afraid of being alone in unfamiliar places.They didn't rush things. Their friendship grew like the morning—gradually, without asking permission. One evening, the rain trapped them under the college veranda. Students were running and shouting, but Aarav and Meera stayed put, watching the water fall like silver threads.“I love the rain,” Meera said softly. “It makes the world honest. Everyone has to stop pretending.”That’s when Aarav looked at her, truly looked at her, and realized he didn’t want to pretend anymore either.Weeks passed, and feelings began to take root unknowingly. Aarav found himself saving jokes just to tell her. Meera started waiting for the sound of his footsteps before looking up from her book. Yet, neither of them spoke about it. Both were afraid—Aarav was afraid of ruining something beautiful, and Meera was afraid of trusting something fragile.

The turning point came when Meera didn’t show up. Aarav waited by the library window. An hour passed. Then two. A message arrived on his phone. *I’ll be off campus for a few days. Family emergency. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.* He stared at the screen for longer than necessary. The message felt incomplete, like the last part of a sentence was missing.The days without Meera felt strangely empty. The library was quieter, the jokes fell flat. Aarav realized what he had been avoiding: she wasn’t just a part of his daily life. She was a part of him.

When Meera returned, she found Aarav waiting—nervous, but determined.

“You disappeared,” he said. “I didn’t mean to,” she replied. “Things got a little complicated.” He hesitated, then took a deep breath. "My feelings too." Meera's eyes widened. A silence fell between them, heavy and fragile. "I'm scared," she finally admitted. "I've lost people before. I don't know if I can handle this—" "I know," Aarav said softly. "I'm scared too. But I'd rather be scared with you than brave without you." Her shoulders relaxed slightly. And in that moment, something unspoken settled into place. They didn't kiss. They didn't promise to be together forever. They simply sat beside each other and let honesty do its work. They learned that love doesn't arrive like a storm. It comes like rain—gentle, persistent, and once you see it falling, it's impossible to ignore. And in that quiet space between them, Aarav and Meera chose each other, one honest moment at a time.