Anaya looked down at her coffee.
Her reflection trembled slightly in the surface.
"…why does it feel like he knows something?"
Her chest felt tight.
Not uncomfortable.
Just—
Uneasy.
Because his words—
They didn't feel random.
They felt—
Close.
Too close.
She exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself.
"Do you always observe people this much?" she asked, attempting to lighten the moment.
"Not everyone."
The answer came easily.
Too easily.
She looked up.
Their eyes met.
And for a second—
Something shifted.
Unspoken.
Unresolved.
Reyansh looked away first.
Because if he didn't—
He might ask.
Might say it.
Might break whatever fragile balance they still had.
Why did you leave?
Why didn't you say anything?
How can you not remember me?
The questions pressed against his throat.
But he swallowed them back.
Because what if—
What if she really had moved on?
What if—
He was the only one still holding on to something that didn't exist anymore?
"…we can take it slow," he said finally.
The words were controlled.
Careful.
But they carried weight.
Anaya looked at him, slightly surprised.
"Yeah," she nodded. "That would be better."
Safe.
Again.
Everything between them—
Was safe.
And yet—
Nothing felt secure.
A faint silence settled again.
This time—
Not uncomfortable.
Just—
Incomplete.
Anaya picked up her cup again.
For a second—
Her fingers brushed the edge.
And suddenly—
Another flash.
A hand.
Not hers.
Pushing a notebook toward her.
"Write it properly."
"I am writing it properly."
"You're not even trying, Ana."
Her breath hitched.
The word echoed.
Ana.
She blinked rapidly.
The moment shattered.
Gone.
"…what was that?"
Her heart raced slightly.
But she forced herself to stay still.
Stay calm.
"Everything okay?" Reyansh asked.
She looked up at him.
For a second—
She almost said it.
Almost asked—
Do you know me?
But then—
She shook her head.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Another lie.
And this time—
He knew it.
Reyansh leaned back slightly, exhaling under his breath.
Because now—
He was sure.
Not fully.
Not completely.
But enough.
Something was there.
Buried.
Hidden.
Not gone.
And that changed everything.
Because now the question wasn't—
Did she forget?
It was—
Why does it feel like she's trying to remember?
And across the table—
Anaya sat quietly.
Trying to ignore the feeling growing inside her.
Because whatever it was—
It didn't feel like imagination anymore.
It felt—
Real.
And that scared her more than anything.
They didn't stay long after that.
The conversation had reached a point where continuing it felt unnecessary.
Or maybe—
Too dangerous.
"I should go," Anaya said, standing up.
Reyansh nodded. "Yeah."
A pause.
"I can drop you," he added, almost automatically.
She shook her head quickly.
"No, it's fine. I have somewhere to go first."
He didn't insist.
"Alright."
Simple.
Like everything else between them.
The sky had already started turning grey when Anaya stepped out of the café.
She pulled her bag closer, glancing up briefly.
"…great."
The air felt heavy.
Like rain was waiting.
She walked quickly toward the bookstore down the street.
It was a small place.
Quiet.
Perfect for what she needed.
School work.
Distraction.
Anything but—
Her thoughts.
Time passed unnoticed inside.
Until—
The first sound of rain hit the glass.
Soft.
Then louder.
Then—
Relentless.
By the time she stepped out—
It was pouring.
Not the kind you could walk through casually.
The kind that soaked you instantly.
"…you've got to be kidding me."
She waited near the entrance for a minute.
Two.
Five.
But the rain didn't slow.
And the street—
Was getting emptier.
"…I'll just run."
Bad decision.
Within seconds—
She was drenched.
Completely.
Her hair clung to her face.
Her clothes heavy with water.
Cold air hit her skin immediately.
And the wind—
Didn't help.
By the time she reached the bus stop—
She was shivering.
"…this is great."
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to block the wind.
The bus—
Delayed.
Of course.
Minutes stretched.
Rain didn't stop.
Cold settled deeper.
She sneezed.
Then another.
"…perfect."
Finally—
She pulled out her phone.
Booked a cab.
Waited.
By the time she reached home—
She was exhausted.
Completely drained.
She changed her clothes quickly.
Didn't bother drying her hair properly.
Didn't bother with anything.
Just—
Collapsed onto her bed.
And fell asleep almost instantly.
That night—
Her body paid for it.
The cold worsened.
Fever crept in slowly.
Then sharply.
By morning—
It hadn't gone down.
Anaya opened her eyes with effort.
Her head felt heavy.
Her throat sore.
"…ugh."
She sat up slowly, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Warm.
Definitely not normal.
But—
"I can't skip today."
Work.
Responsibilities.
Excuses didn't come easily to her.
She got ready anyway.
Slower than usual.
Weaker than she wanted to admit.
At school—
"Ma'am, are you okay?"
She forced a small smile.
"I'm fine."
Lie.
By mid-day—
The fever had risen.
Her movements slower.
Her voice softer.
"You should go home," someone suggested.
"I'm okay," she replied again.
Still stubborn.
Eventually—
She stopped by the infirmary.
"Just something for the fever," she said.
The nurse handed her medicine with a concerned look.
"You should rest."
"I will."
Another lie.
Across the city—
Reyansh sat at his desk.
But for once—
His focus wasn't on work.
It was on—
Her.
The café.
Her pauses.
Her expressions.
That moment—
When she almost said something.
He leaned back slowly.
"…enough."
Distance hadn't helped.
Avoidance hadn't helped.
It had only—
Made things worse.
Because no matter how much he tried—
He couldn't treat her like a stranger.
Not when she wasn't.
And now—
He knew something else too.
She wasn't faking it.
Those moments—
Those pauses—
They were real.
"…you're not remembering," he murmured under his breath.
"…you're trying to."
That changed everything.
Because if there was even a chance—
Even a small one—
Then maybe—
He didn't have to let go completely.
He picked up his phone.
Opened their chat.
Stared at it for a moment.
Then—
Typed.
Reyansh:Did you reach home safely yesterday?
Sent.
Across the classroom—
Anaya's phone buzzed.
She glanced at it absentmindedly.
Then froze.
His name.
After days.
Her heart skipped.
Just slightly.
She opened the message.
Read it once.
Then again.
Something about it—
Felt different.
Not distant.
Not cold.
Normal.
Her fingers moved slowly.
Anaya:Yeah. I did.
A pause.
Then—
Anaya:A bit late though.
Reyansh read the reply immediately.
His gaze softened slightly.
Reyansh:You sound tired.
Anaya blinked.
"…what?"
Anaya:I'm fine.
Reyansh:You don't sound fine.
Her fingers stilled.
Her chest tightened slightly.
"…how does he—"
She shook her head lightly.
Anaya:Just a little cold. Nothing serious.
Across the screen—
Reyansh's expression changed instantly.
"…cold?"
His grip tightened slightly on the phone.
And just like that—
The distance he had tried to maintain—
Didn't matter anymore.