Riya

I stared at the ceiling of Siya's room. It had a mural of a starry night sky that I had painted back in high school for her birthday. It was the result of a gruel four hours. It reminded me of when I was crazy enough to do that. The little bit of rebelliousness that I could channel. Pushing myself as far as I could and felt free, as I couldn't do that in the other parts of my life because I was an obedient daughter doing whatever her parents said.

A sigh escaped when I realized I hadn't picked up my brush in a long time.

"Wow...last I heard about this guy was when he taunted you and shit. Quite a progress." Sia said, slurping the coffee in her coffee mug that said world's #1 girlfriend. She had bought it for herself, and the way she was slurping coffee, she was planning on an all-nighter, possibly for her project.

We three were in our pajamas, and I had shared all of my troubles that led to one and only, Abhay Raichand.

"I am still stuck on him making a sculpture holding a flower. That you made." Ruhi said, her brows in a deep worry as if she was trying to uncover some secrets.

"It didn't mean anything." I groaned and sat up.

"Yeah, right." Sia rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious. That guy seriously hates me for some reason."

"Yeah, and he tried kissing you twice for shits and giggles."

"Didn't try. It was just...a fluke?" I mumbled.

"Did you want him to?" sia wiggled her eyebrows, and I picked up a pillow and threw it at her face.

"What do you think about him, Riya?" Ruhi asked.

"I...He's strange. He always seems angry at whom I don't know. Always getting into trouble. He's extremely cunning, and he plays amazing football." I stopped for a second, my mind replying to the moment when he helped me shape my art. "He acts around broody and all. Then, he creates beautiful art. And talks about it with such passion. Talks about his brother with such softness. His eyes crinkle at the end when he smiles, talking about his brother."

"Are we sure you hate this guy?" An amused Sia asked.

"That's the problem. I don't. I should, right?" I looked at them all, desperate. "He has been nice only a handful of times. It's not that he has suddenly changed. He's still rude and taunts me like it's a sport."

"Humans don't work like that. There's no fixed rule about our feelings for someone. They change frequently and fluctuate right and left. You shouldn't hate him just because that is expected. You hated him because of how Dhruv changed drastically. Do you still blame him for Dhruv's behavior?" Ruhi asked.

Maybe I did. But Dhruv was also an adult making his own choices, wasn't he? How long was I going to put all of it on Abhay? But putting it all on Abhay was easy. Easier than confronting Dhruv.

"Yes," I said.

"I call bullshit." Sia rolled her eyes.

"Me too." Ruhi agreed.

"wha...I do. Seriously. My thinking about all of it doesn't change the things that he has done. Or both of them have done."

"Valid." Ruhi shrugged. "But you need to make a choice. You can not keep yourself in a limbo like this. Either stay away from him or talk to him about what his intentions are exactly. Maybe he likes you."

I scoffed. This was the most bizarre thing Ruhi had ever said. The chances of him liking me were directly proportional to Sia's ceiling coming alive and painting itself.

"Dhruv will flip his shit if that ever happens," Sia said, furrowing her brows. "Meh... At this point, you should date him just to piss your brother off."

And I threw another pillow at her face, which she dodged effectively, and I tried talking about other things to move away from the current topic. But one thing was clear. I needed to stay away from him. Because there was no chance I was going to ask his intentions. Just because he looked at me here and there didn't mean anything.

"You're going to that pottery shop this week, right? You need to bring your sculpture back." Sia reminded me, and I groaned. So much for staying away.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of scattered conversations and uneasy thoughts. Sia and Ruhi's words echoed in my head, mingling with my own doubts. By morning, I decided to follow their advice, advice to stay away or at least try to. As the days of the weeks blurred past and the weekend came closer, my resolve weakened. That's how I found myself standing outside the pottery shop, umbrella in hand, hesitating to step in.

The weather was pleasant, with slight drizzle and the cold air bringing the smell of wet earth. I still hesitated to open the door, pretending to close my umbrella for the umptieth time.

It wasn't just about going in and getting my sculpture anymore. It was giving him a chance again to get under my skin.

Yet I was here. Like a glutton for punishment.

"But we did, little Miss Savior. And when you cross certain lines, you can never go back."

How true his words were.

With his thoughts revolving in my mind, I opened the door. The smell of clay engulfed me. Along with it came all the feelings from the party that I had suppressed for a week.

I took a deep breath and looked around to find a child perched on the reception table, his feet hanging, munching on an apple. He wore a Spiderman t-shirt and shorts, which had faint paint spots.

My feet stopped. He looked up and blinked.

"Hellooo. Welcome to our shop." He said in his cute voice, putting the apple back and trying to get down from the high table.

"Wait." I rushed forward to catch him, but he jumped and wobbled for a second before giving me a toothy grin. I stopped in front of him, horrified.

"Are you okay?" I asked kneeling in front of him.

He nodded, "Don't worry. I do that a lot." That wasn't a good thing.

"That was so dangerous. Don't do that." I said, getting up. "Is-"

"How many times have I told you to not do that?" I jumped at Abhay's voice. I looked to my left to see him looking at the kid with a somber expression. "You can break your bones, and it hurts a lot."

"Who says such gruesome things to a kid?" I asked, horrified, all my hesitations vanished.

"I am not a kid. I am eight now." He showed eight fingers to emphasize his points.

"You heard him. Also, Veer-" He looked at the kid, and my eyes widened. He was Abhay's younger brother. "Don't scare the customers." There was a gentleness in his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

"What happened to your painting?" He asked, and Veer panicked as if he had forgotten about it. Then he promptly turned and ran towards the table on the far side of the room by the wall. The table was filled with different sets of watercolors and an unfinished work. He was painting.

I looked at Abhay, who raised his eyebrows as if asking me what did I need. He stood in front of me in his black t-shirt and grey sweats with no trace of indication that we fought. But, somehow, his demeanor was...different.

"Umm...My sculpture." I asked, squashing my urge to ask about his brother.

"Hmm. Follow me." He turned, and I followed him to the wooden racks in the back.

"I haven't fired it yet." He said, picking up my structure off the rack. A clay flower with flowing petals. I had flattened the design so I could use it to keep my jewelry too. Turing it into an object for daily use instead of some symbolism took the sting off of the verbal lashing I got from Abhay.

He continued, "Usually, we use colored glazes before firing to give the piece its finish and color before handing it to the customers. But this one hasn't been glazed or fired yet. I waited because you paint, and I thought you might like to add your colors before it's glazed."

A warmth spread through me as my heartbeat echoed in my ears. That was usually...thoughtful of him.

"Wait, so I'll paint. Then you'll glaze it, right?" He nodded. "How long would it take?"

"1–2 weeks, depending on the drying and firing schedules of the kiln, the complexity of the sculpture, and how quickly each step is done." He replied casually.

"That means I'll have to come back again?" I asked.

"Yes." He said, looking into my eyes.

Did he...

"I have some ceramic paints lying around. You can start painting," he said, handing me my sculpture.

My plan of coming here, taking my sculpture, and going back was falling apart in front of my eyes. I waited for the panic to settle in. Instead, I was faced with an embarrassing feeling of relief. Relief that I had an excuse. To stay back.

As he rummaged through the other shelves for paints and paintbrushes, I asked, "he's your brother?"

"Yes." He said, picking up a bunch of paintbrush.

"I thought you spent your weekends at your home. You brought him here."

He stopped what he was doing and turned to me. "You know an awful lot for a person who claims to be not interested. Not the next project, remember?"

How tactfully he changed the topic by carefully picking up the words meant to hurt. He was saying back off because I had pointed out something personal. Dhruv had said that he spent his weekends at his place to spend time with his brother. Never bringing him out in the world he had crafted. Running away from stuff.

Bringing his brother here was a big deal. Big step.

"Say it." He said, looking into my eyes.

I looked at him as if to tell him that I was wiser now. I had enough of his barbed words. He scoffed at my look.

"Would you mind if I paint with your brother?" I asked instead, a challenge in my tone and he waited for a few seconds before replying. I knew I was stepping an invisible line here. Abhay's guardedness only made the warmth he showed Veer more intriguing. I had second-guessed myself a lot already.

"Be my guest." His raised eyebrows told me he didn't fall for my change of topic. "What colors do you want?"

"Pinks and reds. And gold if you have." Then I turned around and made my way to Veer, who sat on the small table by the wall and painted a scenery with his utmost concentration. His t-shirt had a few more colorful spots. The elder brother had clay spots, and the younger one had paint. I smiled at the similarity.

"May I sit here?" I asked.

He blinked and looked at my sculpture. "Yes."

"What are you making?" I asked, carefully keeping my flower on the table. "A forest."

I observed him as he went back to his painting, forgetting that I was sitting there.

Abhay brought some paints and kept them on the table. He lingered for a bit, his gaze flicking between Veer and me as if calculating whether to leave us alone. When he finally sat down with his laptop, it didn't feel like a coincidence. It was deliberate, almost like he needed to keep an eye on things.

I blinked. "You're going to sit here."

"Yes, hope you don't mind," he said, as he picked up his laptop. His tone suggested that he was going to be here regardless.

Something has shifted after the party. In him. In me. He seemed more determined while I dangled between my own thoughts, drowning in them.

But I had promised myself. I was going to stay away. But my resolve weakened every time he looked at his brother with a smile in his eyes. But no matter what, I was going to make sure, this was going to be last. The last time I visited this place which held some unknown truce. A bubble. But after I soaked up this version of Abhay.

I looked up to see him watching me intently as if he could read my mind. His steel eyes challenged me as if saying, 'You can try.'

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