The days slipped past like turning pages in a worn-out notebook. The pressure of upcoming board exams pressed hard on the shoulders of every student, including Harshan. But amid the chaos of revision tests, mounting assignments, and the suffocating tension of school corridors, there was a breath of fresh air—one that came every evening after the final bell, in the form of Ishwaani.
Their bond, already strong, had begun to deepen in ways neither of them fully realized. It was in the subtle glances they exchanged when no one was watching, in the way their feet found the same rhythm while walking, and in how their conversations melted time without effort.
One day, as they were walking back from school, Ishwaani tilted her head and asked, "Do you have any siblings? Like, someone born with you?"
Harshan looked at her, surprised by the question. "Yeah. A sister. She’s older than me."
she said, "Where is she now?"
"Out of the city. She left for college last year. We don’t talk much nowadays."
Ishwaani suddenly stopped walking. With mock seriousness, she crossed her arms. "If you ever go away like that, I swear, Harshan, I will come into your dreams and haunt you every single night. You’ll be so scared, you’ll come running back."
Harshan let out a loud laugh. "You? Haunt me? With that puppy-face of yours? The ghost might end up needing therapy."
She made a face and said in a spooky voice, "You don’t know my powers yet."
"Oh, I do. It’s the power of ordering pani puri like a boss and finishing mine too."
She burst out laughing, the tension from the day vanishing in her laughter. That was the kind of ease they had built—a friendship that hovered on the edge of something deeper.
Chapter 10: Parallel Hearts, Hidden Skies
---
As revision exams began, Harshan and Ishwaani continued their usual post-school walks, but they added short evening study sessions. Sometimes they’d revise biology in the park or solve math problems at the tea stall corner table, stealing bites of hot samosas between questions.
One evening, Harshan rode his bike to pick up Dharan. They rode to a coffee shop tucked away in a quiet lane—a place with just four tables, strong filter coffee, and enough peace to talk freely.
Over coffee, Harshan stirred the cup, hesitating.
"I think I love her," he said softly.
Dharan blinked. "You think you love her? Bruh, you've been looking at her like she's the last pani puri on earth."
Harshan chuckled. "I mean… I know I care about her. But I doubt if she does. You know?"
Dharan raised an eyebrow. "Harsha, she waits for you after school every day. She lets you eat her share of ice cream. She talks to you like no one else. That’s not ordinary."
Harshan looked unconvinced.
"She loves you too, Harsha," Dharan said with a confident grin. "But damn, I never expected to see you like this. Romeo vibes. So soft!"
Harshan rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
They both laughed, the kind of laughter that made things feel okay.
---
One quiet afternoon, after a long study session at the lake, Ishwaani walked beside Harshan as the sun painted everything golden.
"You know... we live just one street apart," she said, "but we’ve never seen each other’s homes."
Harshan nodded. "True."
She gave him a playful glance. "So... can I see yours?"
He smirked. "Sure. But it's just a boring house. Nothing fancy."
"Does it have a roof?"
"...Yes?"
"Then it’s perfect."
He led her through a few narrow lanes, and within minutes, they reached the front of his house—a modest two-story building with faded paint and a gate that creaked when pushed.
"This is it," Harshan said.
Ishwaani looked up at the house thoughtfully.
"Harshan... when’s the last time you went to your terrace?"
"Huh?" he blinked. "I don’t remember. I lost my terrace key in an incident, so i didn't break the lock after that.Why?"
She leaned forward slightly, looking both mischievous and sincere. "Go to your terrace tonight. At exactly 8 PM."
He stared at her, confused. "Why? Are you going to appear like a ghost and haunt me again?"
She winked. "Something like that. Don’t be late."
Before he could question further, she turned and walked away.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur. He studied, had dinner, but her words stayed in his mind. As the clock ticked closer to 8, curiosity got the better of him.
He climbed the stairs slowly. The metal door to the terrace creaked open, revealing the soft glow of the evening stars.
Then he froze.
Across the narrow gap, from the terrace of a house parallel to his own, stood Ishwaani.
Their terraces were only separated by a few feet. She waved, holding her phone with a flashlight flickering.
"Told you our houses were close!"
Harshan stared in surprise. "I didn’t realize we were this close."
"Well, now you do," she said. "I’ve been on this terrace many times wondering if I’d ever see you up here."
He walked closer to the edge, smiling. "So all this time, you were just a few feet away."
"Sometimes the closest people are the hardest to see," she said softly.
The cool night breeze carried her voice easily across. They stood there for a while, just talking—from terrace to terrace. About exams, about their future, about how life had started to feel like a thousand-piece puzzle.
Harshan glanced at the sky. "You ever think about the stars? How they seem so close, but they’re actually so far away?"
"Yeah. But at least they shine," she replied. "Even from far."
He looked at her face lit by the soft yellow light behind her. "You do too."
"What?"
"Shine. You shine, Ishwaani."
She went quiet, then softly said, "So do you. You just don’t know it yet."
---
That night, Harshan went back downstairs with a strange calm in his chest. Something about seeing her on that terrace—so close, so real—had settled something deep within him.
They had found another way to connect, even when the world tried to separate them.
And while exams were coming, and future uncertainties loomed large, for now, under that sky, with a shared smile from across rooftops, they were infinite.
The bond was no longer just hidden walks and shared pani puri. It was now in the stars, in the laughter, and in their rooftops facing each other like two hearts finally realizing—they were never apart.
Not really.
Not ever.
YOU ARE READING
700 ᏦᎥᏝᎧᎷᏋᏖᏒᏋᏕ ᏗᏇᏗᎩ
Non-FictionHe loved her in silence. They tore them apart when the truth surfaced. Friends vanished. Only one stayed. Now, 700 kilometers from home, Harsha seeks a fresh start. New faces. New hopes. But the smiles fade. The walls close in. Alone again, for reas...
