Aarohi stayed awake the entire night.
Not because she wanted to.
But because every time she closed her eyes… she felt something pulling her under.
Something deep.
Something dark.
Something that wasn't fully memory…
but wasn't imagination either.
Arin sat beside her bed, refusing to sleep.
But Aarohi wasn't talking.
She wasn't crying.
She wasn't panicking.
She was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that scared Arin more than her tears ever did.
"Aarohi…" he whispered, "please say something."
She didn't.
She stared at the floor as if she could see through it —
as if she were looking into the earth, the past, the night of their death.
"Do you hear him again?" Arin asked gently.
Aarohi didn't answer.
Her silence was an answer.
Arin moved closer, touching her shoulder carefully.
"Aarohi… don't disappear into your head. Stay here."
Finally, she whispered:
"I can hear his breathing."
Arin froze.
"Right now?"
She nodded.
"Where?" Arin whispered, his voice trembling.
Aarohi lifted a finger and pointed…
not at the door.
Not at the window.
Not at any corner of the room.
She pointed at her own chest.
Arin's blood ran cold.
"Inside," she whispered. "His breath is inside my memories. It's like he's trapped there. Calling for me."
Arin's hands shook.
He cupped her face gently.
"Aarohi… that's trauma speaking. Not him. Trauma."
Aarohi shook her head.
"No. Trauma doesn't call my name."
Arin inhaled sharply.
"Aarohi—"
"He said my name again tonight."
Arin grabbed her hands.
"What did he say?"
Aarohi hesitated.
Then whispered:
"'Aara… you promised you wouldn't leave me.'"
Arin's grip tightened instantly.
"Promised?!" he repeated. "Aarohi, what promise—"
She shook her head violently.
"I don't remember! That's what scares me. What if I promised him something before we died? What if I… meant something to him?"
Arin's expression twisted with fear and pain.
"Aarohi… what if he's manipulating your memories? What if—"
Aarohi cut him off, her voice hollow:
"What if he's telling the truth?"
Arin stared at her.
"You think you knew him?" he whispered.
Aarohi swallowed hard.
"I think… he wasn't a stranger."
Arin looked away, jaw clenched as if he wanted to break something.
"Then who was he?" he asked quietly.
Aarohi's voice trembled.
"I don't know."
She looked toward the window.
"But he knows me."
---
A sudden gust of cold air swept through the room.
The curtains didn't move.
The window didn't move.
The door stayed shut.
But the air changed —
as if someone had walked through it.
Aarohi's heart stuttered painfully.
Arin stood instantly, scanning the room.
"Aarohi… stay close."
She didn't move.
She whispered:
"He's here."
Arin stiffened.
"Don't say that…"
But he felt it too.
That unnatural cold.
That tension in the air.
That pressure against the walls.
That sense of being watched.
Aarohi lifted her eyes slowly.
She wasn't looking around.
She was looking through the air.
Through the space in front of her.
As if someone invisible was standing there.
Arin whispered:
"Aarohi… what do you see?"
Aarohi inhaled shakily.
"Not see… feel."
Her fingers curled around the bedsheet.
Her voice lowered to a fragile whisper:
"He's closer than before."
Arin stepped in front of her defensively, shielding her with his body.
"Whoever you are," he whispered into the empty air, "if you hurt her—I swear I will—"
Aarohi clutched the back of his shirt.
Arin stopped speaking immediately.
Because Aarohi's eyes widened suddenly.
Her lips parted.
Her entire body went still.
"Aarohi?" Arin whispered urgently. "What is it?"
A tear slid down her cheek.
"He said something…"
Arin leaned closer.
"What did he say?"
Aarohi's voice trembled as she whispered:
"He said… 'I found you.'"
Arin's breath hitched.
The room went cold.
Too cold.
Aarohi clutched her chest painfully.
"Arin… I can hear him breathing again…"
Arin grabbed her hands.
"Aarohi, breathe with me. He's not here. Look at me—"
Aarohi shook her head.
"He is here."
Arin tried to pull her into his arms, but she didn't move.
Her eyes were locked on one corner of the room.
The darkest corner.
The one where the light didn't reach.
The one she hadn't looked at before.
"Aarohi…" Arin whispered fearfully. "Why are you staring at that corner?"
Aarohi didn't blink.
"He's standing there."
Arin snapped his head toward the corner.
Nothing.
Nothing but shadow.
But Aarohi—
she saw something.
Her breath stuttered violently.
Her voice barely existed:
"I can see… his outline."
Arin grabbed her and held her tightly.
"Aarohi, stop looking! Stop—!"
But she couldn't.
Because the more she stared…
the clearer it became.
A tall silhouette.
Still.
Silent.
Watching her like she was the last thing keeping him alive.
Aarohi whispered through trembling lips:
"He's not angry."
Arin looked at her desperately.
"Then what is he?"
Aarohi slowly leaned into Arin's shoulder, tears falling silently.
Her voice cracked into a shattered whisper:
"Lonely."
The shadow shifted slightly.
Aarohi choked on her breath.
"He's lonely, Arin. He's so, so lonely… I can feel it."
Arin closed his eyes tightly.
"Aarohi, please… stop feeling him. Stop letting him in."
But Aarohi wrapped her fingers around Arin's arm, gripping him with all the strength she had left.
"He's not letting go," she whispered.
"He's not leaving…"
Her knees weakened.
She collapsed into Arin's arms.
He held her tightly.
"Aarohi!"
Her voice trembled as she whispered the final truth:
"He found me."
Arin froze.
Aarohi's eyes closed.
And the shadow in the corner…
moved closer.
---