Zara ran as soon as she saw Agastya. Her legs moved before her brain could think. Fear thudded inside her ribs, she hated the noise, hated the chaos, but something in her wouldn't let him stand there alone.

She ran as fast as she could. For some reason, nothing more than HIM was important to her- at least at that moment.

Until she reached, she saw Agastya's nose bleed, his cheeks now turned puffed into an ugly red. He was still ready to swing again, fists shaking, breath ragged, but the sight of him like that... it felt like a punch to her stomach.

"Agastya!" Zara's voice came out sharper than she expected. He turned, eyes wild, almost unrecognising her in that haze of rage.

Her chest clenched. This wasn't the nonchalant, cocky boy who threw smirks in class. This was someone cornered, someone hurt, someone she'd never seen before.

Without thinking, she stepped between him and Arnav, palms out, her whole body trembling. "Bas! Enough!"

"Agastya!" Zara's voice cracked, but he didn't hear her. Arnav clawed at his wrists, choking, his face turning red, but Agastya only tightened his grip, teeth clenched.

Panic seized her chest. He wasn't stopping. He wasn't listening.

Without thinking, Zara shoved herself into the space between them, her small hands clawing at Agastya's arms. "Leave him! Stop it!" she yelled, tugging with all her strength. But he was too strong, too far gone.

Her nails dug into his skin, desperate, and still he wouldn't let go. "Agastya, you'll kill him!" Her voice broke into a sob, her throat burning with fear.

In one last attempt, she wedged herself against his chest and forced her hands between his and Arnav's neck, prying his fingers open with sheer panic-fueled strength. His breath was hot and ragged on her face, his body tense like a bowstring ready to snap.

"Please!" she screamed. "Stop!"

For a split second, his eyes finally flicked to hers. Blood smeared under his nose, sweat glistening on his temple and then, as if the weight of her voice finally cut through the haze, his grip loosened.

Arnav collapsed backward, coughing violently, gasping for air. Zara didn't even look at him. Her palms were still pressed against Agastya's trembling hands, her own shaking just as hard.

"Are you mad?!" she hissed at him, her voice trembling but fierce. "Do you even know what you were doing?"

Agastya didn't answer. His chest heaved, his eyes still wild, but the way Zara was looking at him, like he wasn't a monster, but like she refused to let him become one was enough to hold him in place.

"Zara, why're you indulging in our fight? Isn't this mr. perfect doing all this for you?" Arnav said, as he chuckled looking at Agastya. "Will you cheat her as..." Arnav continued when Agastya stood up and tried to punch him, when he ran away.

Zara was looking at Agastya, who now turned back to her. "Agastya, are you okay?" Zara asked, while he blinked his eyes rapidly. "I'll bandage you?" She asked, looking in his eyes, while he simply looked down, trying not to maintain any eye contact.

"Agastya?"

Zara asked, again. Her lips curled, trying to bite her own lips.

Agastya swallowed hard, his throat tight, but he didn't lift his gaze. His fists were still clenched, nails biting into his own palms. He hated that she saw him bloodied, broken, not the boy who joked his way through every class, but the one who carried anger sharp enough to cut.

"I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice cracked in the middle. He didn't even saw behind, as he kept on walking, and so did Zara. She quietly walked behind him, not disturbing him at all.

She somehow always understood him, whether that was when someone triggered his past, or now when he was fighting- because there was a day where she was same, fighting the battles for herself, but everyone isn't that courageous to fight.

Agastya's steps were heavy, uneven, like he didn't know whether to run or collapse. Blood still trailed from his nose, dripping down his lip, but he didn't care. His jaw was locked tight, shoulders stiff, fists refusing to unclench.

Zara walked a few paces behind, her breath shallow, heart refusing to settle. She wanted to say something, anything, but the silence around him felt dangerous—like if she touched it wrong, he'd shatter or explode again.

Finally, at the corner of the corridor, Agastya stopped. His back pressed to the wall, his head tilted upward, eyes squeezed shut. He dragged in a shaky breath, but it sounded more like a choke.

Zara hesitated, biting her lip, before inching closer. "Agastya..." Her voice was soft now, not the sharp scream from earlier. "At least sit down. You're hurt."

"I said I'm fine," he muttered again, this time lower, almost hoarse.

Zara was about to leave, when his eyes met with hers, for a moment, he forgot everything as he saw her- because she was the reason why he told everyone in the class to be quiet, and he was being harsh with her only.

"I'm sorry, Zara, you can apply bandage" he said, when Zara rushed back to her home. Agastya stood there, thinking she was annoyed and won't come, Zara came back with the medicine box and didn't give him a chance to protest.

"Come inside," she said firmly, tugging at his wrist.

"Zara, I said I'm fine"

"You're not fine," she cut him off, her eyes flashing for a moment, before softening again. "Please. Just... come."

Her house was silent, her sister nowhere in sight. The air smelled faintly of cardamom and old books, and Agastya suddenly felt out of place, bloodied fists and anger trailing behind him into a space that seemed too gentle for it.

She sat him down on the edge of the sofa, the medicine box clicking open on the table. Without waiting, she dipped cotton into antiseptic and knelt in front of him.

Agastya stared at her—at the way her brows furrowed in concentration, at the way her fingers trembled slightly but never faltered. She pressed the cotton to his split lip, and he hissed.

"Don't move," she murmured.

"I don't need this," he muttered, eyes darting away, fists tightening again.

"You do," she whispered back. "And you don't get to decide everything alone."

Her words landed heavier than she intended. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence filled with the faint sting of antiseptic and the quickening beat of her heart.

Zara's hand brushed his jaw as she worked, warm and hesitant. Her eyes lifted briefly, meeting his. There was no judgment there, no disgust at what he had almost done only that same strange, stubborn care that made his chest ache.

No one in his life ever tend to him, not even his own parents. "Agastya, you want water?" Zara asked. "Or you want to rest?"

He was about to answer when the door creaked in. Vamika came inside, when she grew tensed.

"Damn it, Zara! What happened here? Why's he injured?" Vamika asked, as she looked at Agastya with widened eyes.

Vamika already knew about Agastya- as he was the son of their father's friend.

"Di, you should handle him, he was in a fight and...."

"So you went into a fight to save him?" Vamika questions, her furrows raised, when Zara nodded.

"Hmm!" Zara muttered, when a smirk grew on Vamika's face. Her sister had never helped someone, while Zara rolled her eyes.

"I should leave, I've some work" Agastya said, sensing the palpable tension in between the sisters.

"Have proper rest Agastya" Vamika said, while Zara went to the kitchen. Vamika smirked at her,

"Di, jo aap soch rahe ho vaisa kuch bhi nahi hai" Zara said, as she was filling a glass of water,

(Di, it's nothing the way you're thinking)

"I didn't thought anything Zaru" Vamika said,  as she pulled her cheeks.

"I'm your younger sister, and I know you better than anyone else knows... but if you're thinking that me and Agastya can ever be something so you're just wasting your time, I don't want to be with any guy, I don't want to be shipped with them...." Zara said, giving a stern look to her sister.

"Why Zara?" Vamika asked, sulking.

"He isn't my type, I like those calm and composed toppers having 0 friends, and they're 100000 miles away from females, and he- this guy has a public account, so many female friends and I think he treats me like he does with everyone" Zara said.

"Oh so you've checked him out already?" Vamika asked, raising her furrows. Yes, she checked Agastya's profile from Shreya's account.

"It's nothing di, Shreya was showing me his instagram so I watched, nothing else" Zara said, as she ran back to her own room.

"Keep yourself in dark, as much as you can" Vamika said, while Zara lay back on the bed.

Zara's POV

I hate the way, I'm shipped with anyone. I simply hate it, when everything is related to love. Can't two people be simply friends?

I don't even know when I started hating the word "love".

Maybe when I had to look at my mother kissing my siblings, and discard me as a trash just because I'd pimples on my face. When  her affection skipped me like I wasn't standing there at all. When she tucked them in at night and left my blanket folded on the chair.

Maybe when I realized that no matter how much I tried—grades, silence, shrinking myself into the corners—I was never enough to be chosen.

Love, to me, became proof of my absence. Proof of rejection.

When my own boyfriend cheated on me- I was just 15, happy for my birthday expecting that he'd mend his ways, as he promised.

I was in a 8 months long relationship with a guy, my father's business partner son. Tanav.

He carried the same personality Agastya did. The charming, extrovert who talked with everyone. What Tanav saw in me was a fragile teen girl filled with insecurities.

I was never loved by my own parents, my mother always compared me from my siblings.

I hated shopping, makeup. Why?
The simple reason behind it was the way I was seen in it. My relatives joked on my curvy body since I was a child. I was body shamed so casually in between of so many people, and nobody chose to speak by my side.

I was always scolded by my mother, for not losing weight, sometimes she used to had a cut on my food.

Maybe it all started with her.
My mom.

The lady who forgot her own child. She screamed at me, never minded to hit me, whether it was in between of a family gathering- always so embarrassed of me. Just because I didn't had a good face.

I hated shopping- because the XL size started pointing me, when the clothes stopped fitting well, when I was supposed to share an awkward laugh with the people of store. It was hard to fit in... when people don't know how their hollow words pin in my heart.... How my relatives always forgot that they're talking about me, they were so unfiltered and exposed to what they said.

It hurts... when I remember my mistake of making a guy.
It hurts when my parents actually ask about me from my siblings, because for me I don't even knew if I'll ever be able to forgive them.... At the same time, maybe I'll never be able to hate them either.

When Tanav entered my life and humiliated me at every opportunity he got. Every time when my cousins met up, no one ever tried to include me with them. Whenever my relatives wanted, they used me as a mocking stuff. My own parents discarded me as if I was a trash.

They don't even care about me anymore, even if they know what I did to myself.... I can't even remove my eyes from the cuts in my hands- which looks so scary.

Sometimes I feel like even if I disappear one day, nothing would change. Maybe my siblings will still get the same love, but no one would be declared as guilty for disappointments my parents faced.

And even after all this who am I supposed to call as the person I hate?

Do I hate my parents? No
Do I hate my relatives? No
Do I hate Tanav? No

I hate myself. I hate my own existence, I hate that I'm being a burden on people who don't even want me.

To be loved is to be seen and no one has ever acknowledge my presence- except for one... Agastya and that's why I consider him as my friend, who I can't leave.

Maybe even I don't know what he means to be- a saviour who pulled me at my lowest.

He doesn't even do anything extraordinary. He doesn't fight my battles. He doesn't tell me I'm beautiful. He doesn't even know how much I crave those small moments when he notices my quietness when others feel it like it is my trait. He noticed that I was scared of noises.

And all this makes me friendly with him, no matter how much I want to pull away myself from him, it's so hard for me to not look after a guy who did everything for me to make me comfortable.

I know it very well that I'm the reason for their fight.

Maybe I'm the reason of every wrong thing.... Urghh, this feeling of not being able to enough. Ever.

"Zara" I heard a voice that broke my trance. It was Vamika di, standing.

"Hmm" I asked hummed looking at her.

"Mumma ko lunch dene jaana hai, tu chalegi?" She asked, when I shook my head, as I went to sleep.

******

I didn't even knew when it was night again, and again I was standing at the terrace- that's the only place I liked going to.... I didn't had any mood of night out, either with my siblings or with friends.

I was walking upstairs, when I heard a shout.

"Are you really a ghost, Sahiba?" Agastya asked, when he came near me.

"You scared me" I told him.

"Hm, like I was the one roaming with hair open, like a living dead" he grinned, when I rolled my eyes.

"How're you Agastya?" I asked, casually when he looked at me, his gaze never leaving me. A smile came on his face, as he responded.

"I'm good" He said, trying to keep his smile and not letting it falter.

"Doesn't it hurts to smile when you don't even want to?" I blurted, looking at his fake smile. His eyes softened, as he chuckled looking at me.

"I don't smile when I don't want to... but maybe there's no point where I should stop smiling and start blaming myself for everything. You know Zara, life is uncertain but death isn't. Someday or other, I'll just in someone's memory- honestly in my closest family's memory.... And just because a group of people judge me, few hurt me, that doesn't changes my will to live. Past is already gone, tomorrow.... We don't know what's next, and today is yet unknown, so why not live for now? Without thinking about the things we can't change?"

I kept looking at him, as he ended his philosophy of life. No one ever taught me the same way as his. Every word of his pierced through my heart. It wasn't an irrational motivational speech.... But something I really wanted to hear.

My lips parted in argument, but suddenly words disappeared from my mind. I couldn't speak against him and ending up to nod with whatever he said.

"Stop following me!" I said, as I exited the terrace.

"Haan, I know you defeated that's why you're running" he said, teasingly when I rolled my eyes at him.

*****

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