It wasn't just Vihaan

The bell rang, and Vihaan, for the first time, didn’t mind the chaos that followed. The usual hustle—students rushing to find their seats, chatting, laughing—felt different today. He was nervous, yes, but something about having Rohan beside him made it easier to breathe.

Rohan grabbed his backpack and leaned over. “Ready?” he asked, giving Vihaan a smile that made his heart flutter unexpectedly.

Vihaan nodded, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. He quickly followed Rohan into the classroom, where the desks were arranged in pairs.

Rohan casually pointed to a seat near the middle of the room. “This one?”

Vihaan glanced at the empty desk beside it, then back at Rohan. For some reason, he didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I’ll sit here.”

Rohan gave him an approving nod before he plopped into the chair beside him, tossing his bag onto the floor. “Perfect. First class, first friend. I like it.”

Vihaan settled into his seat, the sound of the teacher walking in barely registering. His thoughts were elsewhere. Every little thing Rohan did felt magnified—the way he ran his hand through his hair, the way he grinned when he caught Vihaan glancing at him. The warmth from earlier, that pull he couldn’t explain, grew stronger with every second.

The teacher began talking, but Vihaan couldn’t focus. He found himself drawn to the way Rohan’s pen moved across the notebook, his quiet hums when he was thinking, the way his eyes met his and stayed for just a fraction of a second longer than expected.

Then, suddenly, the teacher’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Alright, class,” she said, “I want you all to introduce yourselves and share one thing you hope to accomplish this year.”

Vihaan stiffened. Public speaking wasn’t his thing, and now, it felt like all eyes were going to be on him. His palms started to sweat. He could already feel his heartbeat quicken.

Rohan leaned over, his voice low and comforting. “Don’t worry, we’re in this together. I’ll go first, and you can just follow my lead, alright?”

Vihaan looked at him, surprised by the gesture. Rohan’s eyes weren’t teasing or mocking—just genuine.

“Yeah… thanks,” Vihaan whispered, feeling a bit lighter.

When it was Rohan’s turn, he stood up confidently, his usual playful grin back in place. “Hey, I’m Rohan. I hope to get through the year without embarrassing myself too much. Oh, and make a lot of friends, obviously.”

The class chuckled lightly. When Rohan sat back down, he gave Vihaan a nudge. “Your turn.”

Vihaan’s breath caught in his throat. Why didn’t I think about this part?

He stood slowly, trying to keep his hands from shaking. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than he intended. “I’m Vihaan. I guess… I just hope to learn more about myself this year.”

The room was quiet for a second, but no one seemed to mind. Vihaan quickly sat down, his face burning.

Rohan gave him a thumbs-up. “Nice one, man. Simple but real.”

Vihaan smiled nervously. He hadn’t expected Rohan to make him feel so... okay

........................................

Days passed like pages turning too fast.

Every morning, Rohan looked forward to the bus ride—not for the view, not for the music—but for the quiet boy who always sat by the window. Vihaan. The boy with shy eyes and soft smiles that seemed to carry more meaning than words ever could.

At first, Rohan thought it was just the thrill of a new friendship. A fresh start. But the more he watched Vihaan—watched him slowly open up, laugh at his jokes, stumble over his words when flustered—Rohan began to realize it wasn’t just that.

It was the way his heart stuttered when their hands brushed accidentally. The way he caught himself staring when Vihaan smiled into the fading light of the evening. The way silence between them felt comforting, not awkward.

He was falling. Not fast, but deep.

Vihaan didn’t talk much about himself, but when he did, Rohan listened like every word was a secret. He noticed the way Vihaan avoided eye contact when nervous, how his fingers fidgeted when he was thinking, and how his smile—rare, genuine—was brighter than he ever expected.

And when their eyes met… oh.

In those moments, the world blurred. Rohan would forget what he was about to say, forget the classroom, the noise, the people around. All he saw was Vihaan—and the quiet magic in him that pulled Rohan in like gravity.

It wasn’t just Vihaan who felt something shift. Rohan felt it too. Maybe even more

Sometimes, Rohan wanted to ask, Do you feel it too?

But he held back. Because Vihaan was delicate in a way that made Rohan afraid to rush. He knew Vihaan was still figuring himself out—he saw it in the hesitation, the lingering glances, the surprise in Vihaan’s eyes whenever their shoulders touched.

So Rohan waited. Patiently. Lovingly.

Because sometimes, the heart speaks loudest in the silence between words.

...----------------...

Will this silent love ever get its voice ,

or these feelings from two hearts will never meet.

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