The fire crackled softly, its glow flickering across the darkened camp, casting shifting shadows against the towering trees. The night air carried the scent of damp earth, smoke, and the faintest hint of wild jasmine—subtle, lingering, familiar.
Aaravi sat across from Vihan, her fingers wrapped around the warmth of her chai. The steam curled in the air, delicate as a whisper. The tea was different from the ones she made at the temple, but it still carried a sense of home, of something rooted and known.
Vihan sat in silence, golden eyes reflecting the firelight. He had always been a quiet presence, but tonight, his silence felt different—not distant, but waiting.
They had been traveling for days, exhaustion settling deep into their bones, but the weight they carried was more than just fatigue. The Forgotten Order had expected them. Ranya had spoken of balance shifting, of unseen forces moving. But neither Aaravi nor Vihan had answers, only questions that stretched into the darkness between them.
And now, with the night pressing close and nothing left to distract them, they were alone with something neither could ignore.
Aaravi took a slow sip of her tea, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth spread through her.
"You always do that," Vihan murmured.
Aaravi blinked, looking at him across the fire. "Do what?"
His lips quirked slightly. "Close your eyes when you take the first sip. Like you're tasting something more than just tea."
She hesitated, lowering the cup slightly. "Because I am."
Vihan's gaze stayed on her, steady and unreadable. "And what do you taste?"
Aaravi exhaled softly, tilting her head. "The memory of mornings at the temple. The weight of old books in my hands. My father's laughter." A small smile touched her lips, but it faded. "And sometimes… I taste things I don't have anymore."
Vihan didn't look away.
"I think," he said after a long pause, "that's why I never let myself stop and enjoy things. Because once I do… I remember too much."
Aaravi set her cup down, watching him carefully. "What do you remember?"
Vihan exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. His jaw tightened briefly before he spoke.
"I remember what it felt like to be… seen."
Aaravi's breath caught.
"I was always the warrior. The leader. The one people turned to when things fell apart." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it, something raw beneath the surface. "Even before the war, before I lost everything—no one ever asked what I wanted."
Aaravi's heart ached at the confession. "And what did you want?"
Vihan's gaze flickered back to her, and this time, it was unwavering.
"I don't know anymore."
The words hung between them, heavy and unguarded.
Aaravi felt something shift inside her, something unspoken yet undeniable. Vihan was not a man who spoke of his emotions easily. And yet, here, now, beneath the endless sky, he had let her see a piece of him that no one else had.
"I see you," she whispered.
Vihan inhaled sharply.
The words settled between them, delicate but impossible to ignore.
Aaravi felt her pulse quicken, but she didn't look away. "You are more than a warrior, Vihan. More than a leader. And you deserve to be seen for who you are, not just for what you can do."
Something in Vihan's expression fractured, but only for a heartbeat.
Then, slowly, he reached for her hand.
Aaravi inhaled as she felt the warmth of his palm against hers. His touch was not hesitant—it was deliberate, firm, as if he were anchoring himself in the moment.
Her breath stilled.
Vihan's thumb brushed lightly against her wrist, and a slow heat spread through her, pooling deep in her stomach.
They had been dancing around this for weeks. The unspoken pull, the way their eyes lingered too long, the quiet moments where the rest of the world seemed to fade into nothing.
Aaravi swallowed, her heart pounding.
Vihan's gaze flickered down to her lips.
And for a brief, electric moment, she thought he might close the space between them.
But then he exhaled, slow and controlled, and let go of her hand.
The warmth disappeared.
Aaravi blinked, trying to steady herself, but she felt the loss of his touch more than she should have.
Vihan leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "I—" He exhaled. "I should get some rest."
Aaravi hesitated, then nodded. "Right."
But neither of them moved.
The fire crackled between them, the only thing standing in the space they had almost crossed.
And somewhere, beneath the weight of the stars, something between them shifted forever.