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She didn't want to lose sleep over it anymore—and didn't want to carry it over and over in her head, everywhere she went, and in whatever she did.

She knew, if not today, it'd have been some other day, beyond a shadow of doubt.

Constantly engulfed in an agitated frame of mind, only left her choking with repentance and ire in her kitchen, which she absolutely did not want, specifically, when she had a troop of inquisitive interns under her wing.

She might even be asked to work several extra shifts in the ensuing weeks, compensating her off. Or at least, there was a possibility of it, since her head chef was not very happy to know about her two weeks' off.

Keeping her feelings under wraps, when she was expected to work longer shifts would have made it further disastrous.

Now that she'd made an accidental confession, she admitted to herself that she deserved this alleviating, warmly feeling flourishing in her chest. And she could hang on to longer shifts without being lost in thoughts—and god, how much she hated being absent-minded at work.

Still looking at the rim of the fan blades spinning above, meditatively, Himani groped for a cushion from the empty spot next to her. She huddled it to her chest as if to hold the warmth fluttering within, yearningly, and for that alone—the feeling warmly gushing in her chest right now—she was glad she chose to express herself to him tonight.

***

Raghav had no sparse memory of how long he remained, mulling over her words that night, standing right in the middle of the hallway, staring at her door, after she'd passed, shutting it with a soft thud. 

Himani had admitted she was in love with him, and she'd said it at a decisive pace.

She had not cried while saying it, but her lips were tightly pressing together, quivering as though a little bit of parting would produce sobs; with jutting chin, and intimately held up eyes, she'd said it. However, her eyes had turned glossy as she slowly stepped forward to take his hand in her calloused palm, with a tender grasp—and even after she'd consciously withdrawn it in a fleeting minute.

The reminiscence, although it'd transpired only a few minutes back, lavished him with a bittersweet feeling.

Love had always been an unmanageable word to be heard. Not that he had heard it from oodles, anyway.

Today, to have heard it from Himani, whom he believed to like with all of his heart, it was not unmanageable.

And it did not sound like a mere word—perhaps that was what got him stumped right there, where she'd left him.

When Raghav had dragged himself to his bed, his phone blinked with an iMessage from Suhasini.

Are you awake enough for a short call? -S

He stared at the text message for a skeptical moment to weigh if he was affirmative of being awake enough for a short call or to just ignore the message and get back to her in the morning.

He was only going to be skittering around the fact that Himani was in love with him, probably, for the umpteenth time that night, which did not strike him as an outstanding alternative. And it'd been more than a couple weeks (since he was lovesick, as Khushi would nicely put), he'd had a leisurely chatter or FaceTimed them.

Instead of responding as a text message, he dialled her number.

"Hey," Raghav called softly, hearing the other side pick up the call almost immediately.

"Hey you, it's been so long," Suhasini greeted back, briskly, and waved a signalling hand at Rahul to join them, who was just entering the room.

Plopped in his bed with his shoulders slumped against the wall, Raghav acquiesced her in a noncommittal hum. "Yeah."