Dev's P.O.V.

The afternoon still lingers in my mind, an echo of unfulfilled expectations and the painful realization that Raj didn't show up in the music room. The silence between us remains, a testament to the divide I created. I can't help but wonder if he hates me now, if he doesn't want to see me at all. Maybe I deserve that. Maybe I deserve to be pushed away, just as I pushed him away.

As Aman and I step off the bus, the weight of those thoughts bears down on me. The neighborhood greets us with the soft, golden hues of the evening sun. The street is lined with neatly trimmed hedges, and the driveways are home to parked cars, evidence of families returning to the comfort of their houses after a day's work.

A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the tall trees that line the street, offering a soothing respite from the day's heat. The distant sounds of children playing and birds singing create a harmonious background to our evening journey.

We walk towards Ajit's home, the pavement cool beneath our feet. Ajit's house stands tall and welcoming, its red-brick exterior bathed in the warm, amber light of the setting sun. The large front yard boasts a colorful garden, an array of blooming flowers that perfume the air with their sweet scent.

As we approach the driveway, I can't help but admire the charm of this suburban haven. The cozy atmosphere envelopes me, comforting my unsettled thoughts.

Approaching Ajit's home, we are greeted by the gentle rustling of leaves in the trees, their branches filtering the sun's rays down to the ground. Our steps are cushioned by the lush grass beneath our shoes, a comforting sensation as we venture further. The gate to Ajit's property is old-fashioned, its weathered wood exuding a sense of timeless charm. Hanging by the entrance, a vibrant flower pot adds a splash of color to the surroundings, swaying in the gentle breeze.

Aman takes a step ahead and knocks on the door. As I observe the tranquil scene around us, in this peaceful moment, I find solace in the beauty of the world around me, a world that has room for everyone.

Ajit swings open the door, and my gaze immediately falls on his casual attire. He's always been effortlessly stylish, and tonight is no exception. His slim frame accentuates the relaxed fit of his jeans, and he's sporting a simple, well-fitted T-shirt that complements his clear, unblemished skin. His wavy hair falls on his forehead, adding a touch of bohemian charm to his overall look.

With an enthusiastic tone, he greets us, "My men are here!" His words carry a playful hint, making me smile despite the weight on my shoulders.

As we step into Ajit's home, it's like entering a cocoon of comfort. The living room is a testament to simple living done right. The walls are painted in a warm, inviting color that contrasts beautifully with the dark wooden furniture. The large, plush sofa looks incredibly inviting, adorned with an array of colorful throw pillows. Soft, ambient lighting emanates from stylish lamps strategically placed around the room.

I take a seat on the sofa, feeling the plushness embrace me, and it's as if the room itself is offering a refuge from the complexities of the outside world.

I shoot a playful smirk at Ajit as Aman settles beside me and places his backpack on the table. With a mischievous glint in my eye, I can't resist teasing Ajit.

"So, what's your excuse for not going to school today, Ajit?" I nudge him gently, a sly grin on my face. "It's not like you to miss school. Or could it be...Saturday quizzes finally got to you?" I raise an eyebrow.

Ajit's laughter dances through the room as he gracefully takes a seat on the couch, effortlessly embodying his demeanor. He leans back, one hand casually draped over the backrest, and smirks at me. "You really think quizzes scare me?" His tone is playful, his words dripping with sass. "I didn't go because my dear mom, dad, and my oh-so-annoying brother had to go visit my oh-so-ancient grandparents. They absolutely detest the idea of locking the door and hiding the keys under the doormat, honey." He rolls his eyes dramatically, clearly unimpressed with his family's quaint traditions. "So, I had the pleasure of waiting for their royal departure, which, by the way, took forever."

Ajit's flamboyant presence fills the room, adding a touch of drama to our gathering. Despite the tension in my heart, his antics manage to elicit a much-needed chuckle from me.

Ajit's exaggerated clapping fills the room, his enthusiasm infectious as he declares, "So because there's no parents, no brother, this house belongs to us, which means we can do anything we want!"

Aman and I exchange a puzzled look, our expressions mirroring our confusion. Ajit rolls his eyes and chuckles. "I know, I've got the most boring friends, don't I?" He shakes his head in mock exasperation. "But don't worry, we aren't going to drink and have group sex. I'm talking about a movie night and some dancing, babes!"

Aman and I can't help but break into laughter at Ajit's playful little dance.

I place my backpack on the table, my curiosity piqued. "Wait, you had said you've got some very serious business to discuss, so this is that serious business?" I inquire, a playful glint in my eye.

Ajit, true to his sassy self, flashes me a knowing grin. "Movies are serious business, honey. They spend millions on them." He winks, and I can't help but chuckle, shaking my head.

He rises from his seat and moves to sit beside me, his tone taking on a more earnest note. "You've been practicing your music like you're organizing the next Grammy and studying endlessly for those boring quizzes," he points out. "You need a break, and don't come at me; I'm just organizing your well-deserved break. It was Aman's idea."

A different kind of warmth takes over my chest as I turn to look at Aman. A subtle heat, like the first rays of dawn, gentle and hesitant, unfamiliar yet comforting, wraps around my heart. Aman quickly averts his eyes away from my gaze.

I turn to Ajit again and I notice a faint bruise under his eyes, and concern grips my heart. I can't let it slide.

"Ajit," I begin, my voice laced with worry, "what happened? There's a bruise under your eye."

Ajit, never one to let a serious moment linger, flashes me a playful grin and quips, "Oh, darling, you won't believe it! It's a fierce battle in the bathroom this morning. Toothbrush versus me, and let's just say the toothbrush has the upper hand."

I can't help but chuckle at his response, Ajit gets up and heads to the kitchen, where he raises the topic with a touch of sarcasm. "So, let's begin the evening with the boring stuff. What do you wanna eat? We don't have many options, by the way."

I ponder for a moment, remembering the cookies I indulged in during the afternoon. "I'm not really hungry," I admit.

Ajit is quick to respond, his tone laden with playful impatience. "That wasn't the question," he retorts, opening the fridge to inspect its contents.

I repeat myself, trying to emphasize my lack of appetite. "Really, I ate tons of delicious cookies. I really don't want to eat anything."

"Wrong answer," Ajit, with his usual flair, grabs a bowl from the fridge and sniffs it dramatically, saying, "Seems like something edible... hopefully," he remarks, adding a touch of uncertainty. "I'm not a kitchen expert."

His dramatic-self always manages to lighten the mood, and even something as mundane as deciding on dinner becomes an amusing exchange with him around.

Aman silently retrieves his backpack from the table. He begins to unpack a variety of homemade snacks colorful fruit leather rolls, small packets of mixed nuts and dried fruits and even a couple of bags of chips.

Ajit raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed by Aman's preparations. "Looks like someone came prepared," he remarks giving me a knowing look, "for someone."

...

As we enjoy our snacks, the conversation naturally steers towards our movie choices for the evening.

Aman chimes in first, his voice soft and concise. "How about a heartwarming coming-of-age story?"

Ajit, on the other hand, leans forward and suggesting, "Or we could go with a classic comedy, you know, something that makes you laugh till your sides ache. Laughter is the best medicine, darling."

I'm excited to see what they've chosen for me. These options from Aman and Ajit reflect their personalities perfectly, and I can't help but appreciate the thought they've put into making this evening special.

As we settle in for our movie night, the warm glow of the dimmed lights transforms Ajit's living room into a cozy haven. Soft blankets and plush cushions scatter across the sofa, making the seating area inviting and snug. This setup is like a comforting cocoon, wrapping us in its embrace.

Ajit, with his usual flair, takes command of the remote. He scrolls through the options, searching for the perfect comedy movie to kick off our evening of laughter and light-heartedness. The screen dances with movie titles, each promising a dose of humor and entertainment.

The initial tension in the room slowly dissipates as the movie begins. The flickering images on the screen draw us into a world of absurdity and laughter. We share light-hearted banter and infectious laughter, our voices filling the room. It's a refreshing change from the heavy emotions and inner turmoil I've been wrestling with.

Aman doesn't say much, but when he laughs, it's a revelation. The warmth in his laughter is tangible, a gentle embrace that wraps around us. His eyes, normally hidden behind glasses, reveal a subtle transformation—they get smaller, crinkling at the corners, like a private dance of mirth. His chest moves rhythmically, each chuckle and giggle orchestrating a symphony that resonates in the air.

As the first comedy movie comes to an end, we exchange delighted glances, realizing that our impromptu movie night has the potential to be something truly special. The decision is unanimous: we're turning this into a movie marathon. Ajit, with his signature enthusiasm, seizes the remote and scrolls through the various genres and options.

Our movie marathon unfolds like a journey through a spectrum of emotions, each film a distinct chapter.

The second film we choose is a heartwarming coming-of-age story, capturing the essence of youth and the beauty of personal growth. It's a tale of friendship, resilience, and self-discovery. As we watch, our laughter turns into contemplative moments, and the room is filled with shared sentiments.

The third film takes us into the realm of action and adventure. Explosions, chase scenes, and epic battles fill the screen. The adrenaline rush of these scenes contrasts with the emotional depth of the previous film, keeping us on the edge of our seats.

As the credits roll on the final film of the night, we find ourselves in a state of content exhaustion. The marathon has left us emotionally enriched. As we turn off the television and prepare to leave Ajit's cozy sanctuary, I can't help but feel a sense of belonging.

As Aman and I take our leave, the echoes of shared laughter hanging in the crisp air. Ajit, trailing behind with a shawl draped over his shoulders.

Expressing my gratitude, I utter, "Thanks for the epic movie night." Aman silently swings the door open, inviting in the winter breeze.

Ajit interjects with a smirk shivering, "Enough thank yous, darling. Leave, let me close the door; it's colder than my ex's heart out there!"

...

The night descends upon the city, casting its inky shroud over the familiar streets. Aman and I walk in the eerie stillness of the late hour, our footsteps echoing faintly on the empty sidewalk. The streetlights, flickering with a soft, pale glow, attempt to pierce the darkness, but they only manage to illuminate small pockets of the otherwise dim surroundings.

I can't help but feel a sense of unease as we make our way to the bus stop. The emptiness of the road, the silence, and the long shadows creeping from the buildings send a shiver down my spine. I'm never a fan of dark and empty streets, and tonight, they seem to stretch endlessly into the unknown.

Aman, always the strong and silent one, walks beside me, a reassuring presence in the otherwise unsettling quiet. He's headed to Amit Nagar, his home before Ranjit Chowk, which means that after he disembarks, I'll be left to navigate the remainder of the journey on my own.

Must be nice to exude that 'fearless' vibe. Meanwhile, I'm here, mentally auditioning for a horror movie – 'The Chronicles of the Terrified Guy.'"

A distant streetlight flickers, casting eerie shadows that play tricks on my imagination. Dark alleys and I? We have a complicated relationship. Mostly, they terrify me, and I offer my fear in return.

Aman shoots me a curious glance, and I offer a sheepish smile, pretending nonchalance. Like I'm alright, just contemplating the philosophical intricacies of facing one's fears in the urban jungle, you know?

I'll be alright though. I'm no longer a child, and this is a city, not some desolate wilderness... right?

The rational part of me knows that, but my heart seems to beat louder in the hushed night, and my steps quicken involuntarily.

As we reach the bus stop, a chill settles in the air, reminding me that winter has firmly established its grip. I wrap my coat tighter around me, feeling the warmth of my breath as I exhale into the frigid night. The distant hum of a car engine is the only sound that dares to break the silence.

We stand there, side by side, waiting for the bus that will whisk us away from this quiet desolation. The overhead streetlight buzzes faintly, casting an uneven glow on the cracked pavement. The minutes tick by slowly, the anticipation of the approaching bus only amplifying my unease.

Aman's stoic presence remains unwavering, but I know that my fear of the dark, empty streets is palpable. I glance over at him, attempting to offer a reassuring smile, though I suspect it's more for my benefit than his. He meets my eyes briefly, a nod of acknowledgment, and then we both turn our attention back to the desolate road.

After a few moments, I break the silence. "Aman," I begin, my voice tinged with gratitude. "Thank you for the movie night idea. It was amazing. I really enjoyed tonight."

Aman's reaction is as modest as he is, a hint of blush coloring his cheeks as he nods in response.

The distant headlights of the approaching bus finally break the spell of the night. It rumbles closer, a lifeline in the darkness. As it comes to a stop in front of us, the hydraulic hiss of the doors opening is a welcome sound. Aman and I step aboard, leaving the empty streets behind.

The bus was nearly empty, the cold air biting at my skin as I search for an empty seat. Just as I'm about to settle into one, Aman's hand gently rests on my shoulder. I turn to look at him, his expression calm and unwavering.

"Sit on the aisle side," he says in his usual few-worded manner, "the window seat would be cold."

I follow his advice and take the aisle seat. As the bus rumbles to life and starts moving, the hum of the bus engine creates a rhythmic backdrop to the journey. I steal occasional glances at Aman, attempting to decipher the enigma behind those focused eyes but his eyes remain fixed ahead, avoiding my gaze.

We pass a few stops, and the bus keeps getting emptier.

Aman's stop, Amit Nagar, approaches, and I nudge him gently, breaking the silence. "This is your stop," I say, my voice hushed. His response is a simple nod, still avoiding the connection of our eyes.

Curiosity and a growing sense of unease intertwine within me as the bus continues its journey, leaving Amit Nagar behind. Aman remains seated beside me, a deliberate choice that defies the logic.

A few more stops later, we reach Ranjit Chawk. This time, I make my way to the door, and Aman follows silently. As we step off the bus, the emptiness of the street engulfs us. I can feel my heart racing, the silence of the night making me nervous.

I turn to Aman and tell him, "You didn't have to do this. Now, you have to take another bus to Amit Nagar, and it's already past midnight."

Aman doesn't reply with words; instead, he offers me a small, reassuring smile. It's one of those gestures he does – a silent way of saying that he's there for me.

As we walk towards my home, the soft glow of the streetlights casts elongated shadows on the empty street. I lead the way to my house, and the anticipation bubbles within me. When we reach the boundary gate, I turn to Aman. He keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze steady. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, there's a unique connection, a deep understanding that's been growing between us. It's not romantic but it's a bond of friendship that's becoming more profound with every passing day.

The world fades away for that brief second, leaving just the two of us in this silent, moonlit space. In his eyes, I see a friend who's been by my side, a friend who knows me in a way no one else does. It's a connection that's developed over time, an unspoken understanding that's brought us closer.

Whispering a soft "good night," I watch as Aman nods in response. With that silent understanding between us, I turn and walk toward the entrance of my home. The night seems a bit warmer now, and my heart is touched by the presence of my friend.

As I close the gate behind me, I can't help but smile. Aman, with his few words and countless gestures, has a way of making me feel that I'm not alone. I enter my home, and the world inside feels a bit brighter.

On the other side of the street, I glimpse Aman turning back and walking alone towards the bus stop. In this simple act, I realize how far we've come. It's a heartwarming feeling to know that I have a person like him in my life, someone who's willing to go the extra mile for me, even in silence.