“Okay, we don’t have to talk,” he says and hugs me from behind. I huff. Why does he have to be like this?
“You’re clingy, you know that?” I mutter, but I don’t protest when his arms wrap around me. I lean into him. He smells nice.
“I know I am,” he whispers, his lips near my ear. “I can’t help it.”
He has this effect on me. He’s like a drug, and I know I’m too weak to resist him. He kisses my neck softly. It almost has me melting, but I resist the urge. I fumble with the button of the washing machine. I dump the clothes in, but all I can focus on is the warm pressure of his body against my back, his chin resting on my shoulder. I can feel his heartbeat through his chest, and it’s strangely calming.
“I am just overthinking,” I comment, breaking the silence. The only sounds audible are that of the washing machine and his soft breaths falling on my neck. “I just don’t feel…” I pause. Finding the right words to describe how I feel is difficult. “I don’t know how to say it.” I sigh.
“Well, how about you throw out some words, and I will put it together and make sense of it?” he whispers in my ear. I chuckle and turn around to face him.
“I had a video call with my parents today. We do that once every week,” I say. He already knows that; I told him before, I think. “Papa looked a little tired so I asked him what’s wrong.” I pause and look down. “Hehad some business issue and—” I chuckle humorlessly—“I guess I am too eager to help him out that I offered a solution and so did Arnav.” I sigh. “I do not want to sound like a bitter person at all, but I hate it that I am not taken seriously at all.”
I look up at him, wanting to see his expression. “Like today, Arnav joined late. When I was talking with my parents,Maatalked about my love life.” I snigger. “By the way, she thinks there is something going on between you and me. I guess mothers do know the best.” He smiles softly and kisses my hair. “When Arnav joined in, he was asked about his studies.” I frown. “I mean he is a reserved person and doesn’t really talk much, so I guess I understand why they stick to the point with him, but since I have come here, I have never been asked how my studies are going,” I whisper. “They did not even ask me for my first semester’s results. It's as if they just sent me here to have fun or something,” I huff. “It feels like I am invisible to them, My efforts are invisible,” I mutter. Daniel watches me silently. I feel my heart tug. What if he thinks I am being whiny?
“I just hate this side of me.” I let out a dry laugh. “I sound so jealous,” I say, feeling a lump forming in my throat. God, I hate this. I am not used to speaking my mind to everyone. And now, this person just won’t let me suffer in silence. He needs to know what is going on inside me.
I let out a shaky breath. “I am so pathetic.” I blink furiously to not let tears fall from my eyes.
He holds me tighter and presses a soft kiss to my temple. “Then let’s be pathetic together, Firecracker,” He says, “You are not jealous. And even if you are, all your feelings matter to me okay?” He looks into my eyes. His words make my chest tighten in a way that’s both painful and comforting.
I blink back the sting of tears. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
“I just tell the truth,” he says simply, pressing a kissto my temple. “You’re amazing, Anya. And I’m proud of you. Always.”
I turn in his arms, facing him fully now. His expression is so earnest that it makes my heart ache. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He cups my face gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll remind you every day if I have to.” For now, I let myself bask in his comfort, deciding to let the weight of the day melt away in his arms. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll tackle the world again. But tonight, I’ll let him be my anchor.
∞∞∞
33
ANYA
I have never wanted to make an effort for anyone. Even in my past relationships, I’ve always felt that if someone cared enough, they’d meet me halfway. But with Daniel, things are different. This man makes me feel as if I am the center of his universe. He makes me feel seen. I always try so hard to excel over others, to be a person that I am not. There’s this constant pressure I put on myself to be perfect, to prove that I’m worth it. I wear this mask of confidence, thinking that if I appear strong and flawless, no one will notice my flaws.
But Daniel sees right through it. When he looks at me, I can feel his gaze peeling away the layers I’ve built up. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating. I want to be real with him, to drop the facade and show him who I truly am—messy, vulnerable, and sometimes lost. But the fear of not being enough always lingers in the back of my mind.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m even worth it. If I can give him what he deserves. The thought twists my insides intoa knot. Daniel is everything I’m not: grounded, patient, effortlessly kind. I can’t help but feel that, one day, he’ll realize I’m not the ideal woman he thinks I am.
What if he wakes up one morning and decides he deserves better? The idea is suffocating. It makes me want to retreat, to hide behind the mask again.
Yet, there’s something in the way he smiles at me like he genuinely cares about my messy edges and all the imperfections I’m so afraid to show. It makes me want to take the leap, to trust him enough to let him in.
I ring the bell of his apartment. He isn’t aware that I am visiting. I could have informed him beforehand, but it wouldn’t give me the pleasure of seeing his face light up. I smile slightly, imagining his reaction.
I want to make an effort for him, not just because he does so for me too, but because I think I can. There’s a part of me that feels inspired by the way he shows his true kind self so openly and honestly. It’s like he’s holding a mirror to his heart, reflecting the warmth he has kept hidden. I want to be that brave.
The door swings open and Daniel hurriedly steps out. His eyes widen. I extend the bouquet of yellow tulips I picked up on the way here, to him. I read somewhere it symbolizes warmth and cheerfulness, and when I saw it, I knew I had to get it because it reminded me of him. It reminded me of his smile.
“I brought you some flowers,” I say, tilting my head and smiling at him.
He pulls me into his arms and wraps me up in a warm embrace, his breath warm against my neck. “Thank you, Firecracker,” he says. He takes my hand, guiding me into his room. He closes the door behind us. “I will be back in a second,” he says. His hands linger on me a moment longer before he reluctantly pulls away. He walks away, disappearing into the balcony attached to his room.
When he comes back, he has a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands. His eyes soften and he chuckles. “Will you believe it if I say I was just heading to your house to give you flowers, too?” he asks, his voice filled with disbelief.
“Really?” I ask breathlessly. “Did you buy it from the campus florist?”
