Mudit's POV
The hostel lights flickered once before settling into their usual hum.
It was late—too late for conversation, too early for sleep.
I sat on the edge of my bed, back against the wall, scrolling through nothing.
Meher's laugh echoed faintly from the corridor.
Nihal's voice followed, low and steady.
I didn't need to see them to know they were walking together again.
And somewhere down the hall, Aryan was probably texting Isha.
Or thinking about her.
Or replaying whatever moment they'd shared in that corridor.
Everyone was finding someone.
Or being found.
And I was here.
Still.
It wasn't jealousy.
Not exactly.
Just a quiet wondering.
Why not me?
I wasn't dramatic.
Wasn't reckless.
I listened.
I remembered things people said.
I showed up.
But love hadn't.
Not in the way it did for others.
Not in the way that made someone pause mid-sentence and look at me like I mattered more than the words.
I'd had moments.
Brief ones.
A glance held too long.
A smile that felt like it meant something.
But they passed.
Like weather.
And I stayed the same.
I told myself I was okay with it.
That I had time.
That love would come when it was meant to.
But tonight, with the walls too quiet and the air too still,
I wondered if maybe I was just easy to overlook.
Not invisible.
Just… not urgent.
The kind of person people liked.
But didn't choose.
I thought about the way Meher looked at Nihal—like she saw something in him that steadied her.
The way Isha tilted her head when Aryan spoke, like she was listening for something beneath the words.
I'd never had that.
Not once.
And maybe it was me.
Maybe I was too careful.
Too quiet.
Too good at making space for others and forgetting to claim any for myself.
I lay back, staring at the ceiling, letting the thought settle.
Maybe love wasn't late.
Maybe it was waiting for me to become someone worth interrupting.
Or maybe—
Maybe I was already that person.
And no one had looked long enough to see it.
I closed my eyes.
Not to sleep.
Just to rest from the ache of wondering.
And somewhere in the silence,
I promised myself something.
When love does come—
I won't shrink to fit it.
I'll let it see me.
All of me.
Even the parts that waited too long.