Fiza had a restless night, plagued by unsettling dreams. Images of Alan and Mownika laughing at her merged with visions of grotesque bugs crawling all over her. In one moment, Alan was holding her tenderly, and in the next, he transformed into a giant centipede, its numerous legs entwined around her while menacing pincers clicked near her face. She jolted awake, gasping for breath.
Neha had yet to return. Glancing at her phone, she saw it was 5 am. There was a message that Neha had sent her last night : "Saw you leave with Alan. Heading to CC." Fiza set her phone aside and tried to shake off the lingering unease, hoping to catch a few more hours of sleep.
Her mind wandered to Alan, imagining him being with Monica at that very moment. Would they still be together, or had he taken an autorickshaw back like he did last time? She pondered how long it typically took to have sex, her knowledge limited to books and movies rather than personal experience.
Fiza had never watched porn. Her philosophy was simple: if an action was wrong to do, it was equally wrong to watch it. She briefly wondered what Alan was into, what his experiences were and what he had possibly experimented with.
She tried to brush away those thoughts, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to clear her mind. No way she wanted to date Alan. They were completely wrong for each other. Trusting him in a romantic relationship? Not a chance. She couldn't possibly satisfy him anyway, she reasoned.
But she couldn't deny the joy she felt when they were together. The way they sang and teased each other, the way he had come to her rescue today, the way her heart had raced when he had held her.
It was just friendship, she tried to convince herself. Sure, she found him fascinating because he was so different. His life was interesting, and she couldn't help but be intrigued. But that didn't mean she was in love with him or wanted anything more than friendship.
A tingling sensation ran through her lips as the memory of his touch lingered. She hugged her pillow tightly. Fine, she admitted to herself. She was attracted to him. But that wasn't the reason she hung out with him. She genuinely wanted to be friends. He was a good person, and she enjoyed his company. That's all it was. Tossing the pillow aside, she turned onto her stomach and tried to drift off to sleep.
The harsh rays of the sun pierced through her closed eyelids, jolting Fiza awake. It was already 11 am. She had missed the prize distribution ceremony. Panic washed over her as she realized that Neha's and Anjana's bags were gone. Why hadn't they woken her up? Their bus to Bangalore was scheduled for 12.
In a rush, Fiza hastily packed her bags, making sure she had all of Priya's clothes, her wallet, charger, and contact lenses. Putting on her glasses for the bus ride, she cautiously made her way to the shared bathroom. After checking for any creepy crawlies, she took a quick shower and hurried to the community center. To her dismay, it was deserted. Panic welled up inside her, and she immediately called Neha.
"Mam, I'm at the community center, and everyone has left," Fiza blurted out before Neha could even greet her.
"Okay," Neha replied calmly. "Let me send you my location on WhatsApp."
Fiza checked the location and realized it was about a 15-minute drive from the campus. On foot, it would take much longer. Luckily, she spotted an auto-rickshaw and hailed it. She gave the driver the address and watched as her college mates stood by the bus. Anjana and Neha approached Fiza, and Neha enveloped her in a hug.
"Where were you?" Neha inquired.
"I was at the hostel. Why didn't you wake me when you got your luggage?" Fiza blurted out trying to keep accusation out of her tone.
"Sanjay and Atul went and got our bags for us. They said..." Neha paused. "They said you weren't at the hostel and that you were spending the night with Alan."
"Idiots!" Anjana chimed in. "They're friends with Abhishek and probably thought it would be a fun prank to play on you."
Fiza was annoyed. This was far from funny. Anjana and Neha joined their classmates on the bus, leaving Fiza alone with her luggage. She handed her suitcase to the conductor and walked in, carrying her backpack. As she passed Alan, she purposefully avoided eye contact and chose a seat two rows behind him. She felt on edge, her poor sleep and the stress of being left behind making her hyperalert.
Megha, one of the third-year students who had participated in the western dance, took a seat next to her. While some of the students played Anthakshari, Fiza closed her eyes, hoping to catch some much-needed sleep.
Alan desperately wanted to talk to Fiza, but he felt bad for how he had treated her last night. He couldn't get the image of her hurt face out of his head. Seeing her with her eyes closed, taking those deep breaths, it had torn him up inside. He knew he had messed up and had caused her pain. He questioned whether he was even capable of being a good friend to her.
The self-doubt overwhelmed him, and he stayed in his seat, unable to muster the courage to approach her. He figured he'd only end up making things worse by speaking to her.
The bus made a pit stop at Vellore, and everyone got off to stretch their legs and grab some tea. Fiza spotted Neha and Anjana and joined them. Anjana wasted no time in filling the others in on what those idiots Sanjay and Atul had done. She recognized them to be the ones who had intervened the previous night when Abhishek had been trying to pick a fight with Alan.
Fiza couldn't help but feel guilty for ignoring Alan. After all, he had been there for her when she had needed him, and she realized she was being childish for holding a grudge against him for being crude about his situation with Mownika. It was just the truth, and she had asked for open communication.
Deciding to make amends, Fiza ordered an extra cup of tea and walked over to Alan as a peace offering.
Fiza approached Alan with a smile, offering him the cup of tea which he gladly accepted. As she animatedly shared the morning's events, Alan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, eliciting laughter from Fiza.
"Unbelievable!" he exclaimed, taking a sip of his tea. He felt a sense of relief that she was speaking to him again. It amazed him how quickly she had become important to him.
"How was your morning?" Fiza asked in an attempt to turn the focus on him.
She immediately bit her lip, afraid she was prying. Alan considered her, feeling a surge of emotions just being in her presence. He didn't want to lie, yet he didn't want to put her off either.
"I stayed over at Mownika's hotel," he admitted. Fiza glanced down at her cup. "It was closer to the bus stand," he quickly added, hoping to provide some context.
Their eyes met, and Fiza silently questioned how he managed to separate physical acts from emotional connections. Alan seemed to understand her unspoken question. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, feeling a tinge of judgment. Surprisingly, Fiza's gaze remained unwavering.
"I'm not using her, Fiza. We're just having fun, no strings attached," Alan assured her. He sensed her struggle with the concept.
Fiza's voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes casting down before locking with Alan's once again. "I would never be able to do that," she confessed, her words laced with vulnerability. "You know?" Her gaze bore into his. "Separate physical touch from physical affection and love?"
Alan's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of her gaze and the raw honesty in her words. "I know," he whispered softly, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing.
He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. She represented everything good, while he believed he was everything bad.
Fiza's eyes remained fixed on Alan, her gaze filled with empathy and concern. She could sense that there was something that burdened him, a shadow that clouded his spirit. It pained her to see him struggle, and she couldn't help but wonder what lay at the heart of his troubles.
To Fiza, life was straightforward-when faced with a challenge, either change what you can or accept it for what it is. Fiza reached out and gently took hold of Alan's hand, intertwining their fingers together.
"You are a good guy," she said, her voice filled with sincerity and a depth of understanding that made his soul tremble. "You don't seem to know that." Their eyes locked, and he felt exposed, as if she could see straight through the walls he had built around himself.
Yet, a familiar voice echoed in his mind, "You'll never be more than a pretty face." Alan fought against it, tried to drown it out with Fiza's unwavering gaze.
Alan's eyes pleaded with Fiza, silently beseeching her for reassurance and understanding. He longed for her to possess the power to dissolve his past, to wash away his sins. But as the bus's horn blared, signaling their imminent departure, the weight of uncertainty settled upon him once again.
To Alan's surprise, Fiza refused to release his hand, holding on tightly as they made their way back onto the bus. Her touch brought a glimmer of comfort, a sense of connection that he desperately craved. He yearned for her to affirm his worth, to repeat those affirmations like a lifeline to his wounded soul.
As they stepped inside, Alan wrestled with his desire to sit beside her, but his fear of overstepping boundaries held him back. The need for her validation consumed him, and he clung to her hand. Together, they navigated through the rows of seats until Fiza guided him to her own.
Should he put his arm around her, or would that be pushing it too far?
Alan made the choice to let Fiza take the lead. His heart thumped in his chest, craving the connection he never thought he would need. As they sat side by side, his desire for closeness intensified, yet he held himself back, savoring the electric tension between them.
As Fiza released his hand to reach for her water bottle, Alan's gaze remained fixed on her. He couldn't help but notice the way the water droplets glistened on her lips, creating an unexpected urge to lean in and kiss her.
Alan tried to force himself to look away, trying to suppress the smile that crept onto his face. It felt like only a few days ago when he had sat beside her, chuckling as she playfully teased, "Rule number one: don't fall in love with me." He remembered how he had teased her back, saying sarcastically that he'd do his best to follow that rule. But now, as he stole glances at her, he realized he may end up breaking all of her rules.
He couldn't do that to her. Fiza deserved better. She deserved someone who would love and respect her without reservation. He was too damaged, too flawed to be that person. As much as he longed for her, he made a silent vow to protect her from his own demons.
Fiza beamed at him, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "I know I'm really pretty, but you can stop staring at me now."
She aimed to lighten the mood and shift their conversation to something more lighthearted. "So," she suggested, her voice tinged with excitement, "shall we post our duet?"
Alan took a moment to grasp her words. "Absolutely," he replied, opening his Instagram app. He uploaded a clip of their practice session. "Would you like to add a filter or make any edits?" he offered, extending his phone toward her.
Fiza scrutinized the video, a hint of self-consciousness tugging at her. "Why? Do I look bad?" she asked, her voice tinged with a playful curiosity.
Caught between her jest and the desire to shower her with compliments, Alan couldn't help but let his gaze wander admiringly across her face. "You're the most beautiful person I've met," he said, a tender smile gracing his lips.
Fiza's cheeks flushed pink, catching her off guard. "Please don't say things like that," she whispered softly. "Or else, I might just fall for one of your pickup lines."
Alan was unsure if Fiza's playful banter was simply flirting or she really meant what she had said. Her smile danced upon her lips, leaving him longing for clarity.
Alan fought against the overwhelming surge of desire that consumed him, his body tense with the need to touch her, to taste her lips with a hunger that consumed him from within.
His hands trembled at his sides, itching to explore the softness of her skin, to trace the contours of her face and commit every delicate detail to memory.
No one had ever stirred such intense emotions within him as Fiza did. Alan watched as she focused on editing the clip for their Instagram reel.
Handing the phone back to Alan, Fiza's voice carried a hint of hesitation. "I was thinking we could break it up into sections and post them on different days," she suggested, her eyes avoiding direct contact.
Alan chuckled, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. "Sure," he replied, a touch of sarcasm coloring his words. "So that our two followers can savor our music in bite-sized pieces."
He clicked on their profile page, his gaze falling on the list of followers. His heart skipped a beat as he noticed the second person on the list-Mownika . Fiza's eyes followed his, and a mix of emotions flashed across her face before she quickly averted her gaze.
"No," Alan thought, a sense of regret washing over him. Their agreement had been clear-keeping their physical involvement separate from the rest of their lives. It was meant to be a mere arrangement for pleasure. But now, seeing Mownika's name, he couldn't help but question the boundaries they had set.
Meanwhile, Fiza stared out the window, her mind clouded by a sudden reality check. The realization hit her like a cold gust of wind.
Beyond their flirtatious exchanges, Alan was involved with someone else. All the attraction she had felt for him, she was now convinced, was nothing more than unrequited longing. How could it be otherwise? Who was she trying to fool but herself?
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern. The question hung in the air, hesitant yet filled with a longing to bridge the gap that had formed between them.
Fiza's gaze shifted from the window to meet his, her eyes revealing a mix of vulnerability, a touch of sadness, and a hint of longing, all intertwined in the depths of her gaze.
Alan desperately wished that he was a different person. Someone who could commit. Someone who derived joy from making someone else happy. Someone who had something to offer to the person he was with. Someone who deserved to be with Fiza.
Overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions, Alan's instincts took over.
Drawing her closer, Alan leaned in, his intentions pure and gentle, aiming to place a kiss on her cheek. But before his lips could touch her skin, Fiza's swift reaction took him by surprise.
Instinctively, she pushed him away, shock etched across her features like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a flickering flame.
"What are you doing?" Fiza asked, her voice laced with surprise and caution.
Alan's heart skipped a beat, realizing his impulsive move had caught her off guard. He quickly collected himself, trying to find the right words to clarify his intentions. "I... I'm sorry," he managed to say, regret seeping into his voice.
"You are my friend," Fiza emphasized, her voice full of determination. "And I've told you before, I don't... I can't..." Her voice trailed off as she averted her gaze, a subtle hint of sadness shadowing her features.
Alan braced himself for the possibility of being yelled at or asked to leave. But to his pleasant surprise, she positioned herself so that her head rested gently on his chest. The rhythmic thumping of his heart echoed in her ears, serving as a comforting lullaby that helped ease her restless thoughts.
Fiza looked up at Alan from his chest, their faces mere inches apart. Giving into the moment, she closed her eyes, her lashes brushing against his chin. He looked down at her and his lips hovered tantalizingly close to hers. He could sense her breath mingling with his.
But Alan, driven by his respect for Fiza and his desire to preserve their friendship, chose to pull away before falling prey to the temptation of kissing her. Fiza looked down again.
As the journey continued, Fiza drifted off to sleep, moving slightly with the steady rise and fall of Alan's chest. Alan, mesmerized by her serene form, gently played with her hair, cherishing this precious moment of intimacy.
Mownika had returned home to Bangalore by flight, and upon reaching her destination, she wasted no time in reaching out to Alan. Her message appeared on his phone, a tempting invitation that stirred conflicting emotions within him. "Tonight at my place?" it read.
Alan's gaze shifted from his phone to Fiza, his heart felt torn between wanting to become a better person, deserving of Fiza's love and affection, his belief that he would never be deserving of a real relationship and his need for a temporary sexual release.
"Sure" he responded.
**********************************************
Author's note
Do you believe that love is different than attraction + friendship?
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❤️Faiza