Chapter 1

The morning sunlight slipped lazily through the windshield, warm but not harsh, painting soft gold across Zivah’s face as she drove.

The city was only just waking up, shops half-open, chai stalls steaming, people moving with that unhurried rhythm of a day that hadn’t fully begun yet.

Zivah liked mornings like this.
Quiet. Undemanding.Predictable.

Inside the car, unfortunately, none of those things existed.

“Zivah, I’m actually concerned for you at this point.”

Zivah didn’t even glance at Anamika.
“Oh? Good morning  to you too Anamika?”

Anamika leaned forward dramatically from the backseat, resting her chin on the space between the two front seats,
“it has been twenty-two years of your life and not once—not once—have you even looked at someone romantically.”

From beside Zivah, Shivani snorted, adjusting her sunglasses.

One hand rested lazily behind her seat, until Anamika’s fingers slipped into hers from the back, squeezing softly like second nature.

“Correction,” Shivani said, intertwining their fingers without even looking,
“she looks at people. She just starts analyzing their personality like they’re a case study.”

Zivah rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips.
“I don’t analyze people.”

“You literally told me last week that the guy in the café had ‘commitment issues based on his coffee order,” Shivani shot back.

“He ordered a different drink for takeaway after finishing one. That says something.”

“That says he likes coffee,” Anamika deadpanned, though her voice softened slightly as Shivani’s touch lingered.

Zivah laughed softly, shaking her head. “You both are impossible.”

“No,” Anamika said, narrowing her eyes playfully, though she didn’t let go of Shivani’s hand,
“you are impossible. Do you even feel attraction? Or are you just… above it all?”

“I’m not above it,” Zivah said, her voice calm, almost thoughtful.
“I just… haven’t felt it.”

Shivani turned slightly, studying her.
“Not even a little? Not even once? No crush in school? No random ‘oh she’s pretty’ moment?”

Zivah paused.

For a second, her fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

“I notice people,” she said finally, quieter now.
“I notice how they speak, how they react, how they exist. But it’s never… stayed.”

“Stayed?” Shivani repeated softly.

“Yeah,” Zivah nodded faintly.
“Nothing ever stays long enough for it to mean something.”

There was a pause.

A real one this time.
Anamika’s expression shifted slightly—not teasing anymore.

She exchanged a look with Shivani, one of those silent conversations couples have, filled with meaning Zivah didn’t fully catch.

“Well,” Shivani stretched, finally pulling her hand away only to rest it briefly on Anamika’s shoulder as she moved,

“when it happens, I hope I’m there to witness the downfall.”

Zivah smirked.
“You mean my character development?”

“Exactly,” Anamika grinned.
“Because right now, you’re too stable. It’s suspicious.”

Zivah laughed again, but her eyes drifted briefly to the road ahead, something distant flickering through them.

Stable.
Maybe.
Or maybe she had just never been shaken enough.

The college gates came into view, tall and familiar, buzzing with early morning energy.

Students walked in clusters, laughter already filling the air.

Zivah parked the car, the engine going quiet as the three of them stepped out.

Shivani adjusted her bag, then without thinking, reached for Anamika’s wrist, pulling her a little closer as they started walking.

“Literature first,” she said. “Try not to emotionally evolve before lunch.”

Zivah smirked. “No promises.”

Anamika leaned slightly into Shivani, murmuring something under her breath that made Shivani’s lips twitch.

Zivah shook her head, smiling as she watched them, comfortable, effortless, certain.

For a brief second, her gaze lingered.

Not on Shivani.
Not on Anamika.
But somewhere beyond.

Like she was looking for something she didn’t fully understand yet.

“Oi,” Anamika snapped her fingers lightly. “Where did you go?”

Zivah blinked, refocusing. “Nowhere.”

“Liar.”

“Come on,” Zivah said, gently pulling her along. “We’re going to be late.”

Lunch break arrived like a breath of relief.

The canteen buzzed with noise—steel plates clinking, conversations overlapping, the smell of spices and chai lingering in the air.

The three of them settled into their usual corner table, slightly away from the chaos, where they could talk without shouting over everyone else.

Anamika slid into the seat first, immediately pulling Shivani down beside her instead of across.

Shivani didn’t protest, she never did, just leaned slightly into her as if it was the most natural place to be.

Zivah sat opposite them, watching for a brief moment before looking down at her plate.

“…and then she literally said, wait, are you even listening?” Anamika stopped mid-sentence, frowning.

Zivah blinked. “Hmm?”

“Wow,” Shivani muttered, though her hand had found its way under the table, resting lightly over Anamika’s.

“She’s gone.”

“I am not gone,” Zivah protested softly.

“Then where are you?” Anamika leaned forward slightly, .

Zivah hesitated.
It wasn’t obvious.
It wasn’t something big.
Just—
A thought that hadn’t left.

“Hey,” she said, almost casually, “that girl from your class… Eraya, right?”

Shivani’s expression shifted instantly.
Annoyance.
Sharp, immediate.
Her fingers stilled in Anamika’s hand.

“What about her?”

“I didn’t see her today,” Zivah said. “Is she absent?”

Shivani let out a short, unimpressed laugh. “Oh, her.”

Anamika glanced at her, then at Zivah, sensing the shift immediately.

“What do you mean ‘her’ ?” Zivah asked gently.

Shivani leaned back slightly, arms crossing now, her earlier softness replaced with irritation.

“She’s always like that. Disappearing, showing up, acting like she exists on some different level.”

Zivah frowned slightly.
“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Shivani said, her tone edged now, “she has an attitude.”

Zivah didn’t respond immediately.
She just watched her.

“Shivi…” Anamika murmured softly, her hand brushing Shivani’s wrist, a quiet attempt to calm her.

But Shivani continued.
“No, I’m serious. She’s the topper, right? Everyone knows that. So we thought, okay, let’s include her in our study group.”

“And?” Zivah asked.

“And she refused,” Shivani said flatly.

“Didn’t even explain properly. Just said no and walked away.”

Zivah’s fingers stilled on her plate.
“That’s it?”

“That’s not it,” Shivani scoffed. “She never talks to anyone. Never sits with anyone. Always that stupid hoodie over her kurti like she’s hiding from the world.”

Anamika sighed quietly, her thumb now gently pressing into Shivani’s palm,a silent relax.

“And the way she looks at people?” Shivani added.
“Like we’re not worth her time. It’s rude.”

Zivah finally spoke, her voice softer than usual.

“Or maybe… she just doesn’t know how to be around people.”

Shivani blinked. “What?”

“I mean,” Zivah continued carefully,
“not everyone who stays quiet is arrogant.”

“She doesn’t just stay quiet, Zivah,” Shivani said, frustration creeping in.
“She avoids people. There’s a difference.”

“Yeah,” Zivah nodded slowly. “There is. But..”

Shivani blinked.
“Why are you defending her?”

“I’m not defending her,” Zivah said quietly. “I’m just… saying.”

“You don’t know her,” Shivani said.

“Neither do you,” Zivah replied, just as softly.

That made Shivani pause.
For a second.

Then she exhaled sharply.
“We tried to include her, okay?  She Just said no and walked away.”

Zivah’s fingers stilled.

“Did she say why?”

“No.”

“Did you ask?”

Shivani frowned. “Why does that matter?”

“Because,” Zivah said, her voice gentler now, “sometimes people say no because they can’t say anything else.”

Shivani looked at her like she didn’t understand.
And maybe she didn’t.

Silence.

“Why do you care so much?” Shivani asked suddenly.

Zivah looked up, caught.

“I don’t,” she said quickly.

“You do,” Shivani insisted. “You noticed she wasn’t here.”

Zivah opened her mouth.
Closed it.

“I just…” she tried again, softer now, “noticed.”

Shivani held her gaze for a second longer, then leaned back.
“Fine,” she muttered. “If you want to figure her out, go ahead.”

Zivah didn’t answer.
Because something inside her had already decided.

Later, in clas,

Anamika leaned toward her again, voice softer now.

“Zi.”

Zivah didn’t look at her. “Hmm?”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Zivah’s pen paused.
For a second, everything felt… too still.

“What?” she said, almost too quickly.

Anamika smiled faintly, tilting her head. “You do.”

“I don’t,” Zivah said, shaking her head lightly.
“I don’t even know her.”

“Exactly.”

Zivah finally turned.

“That’s exactly why it’s weird,” Anamika continued gently.

“You don’t know her. And yet you noticed she wasn’t there.”

Zivah looked away again.
“I notice a lot of things,” she said.

Anamika leaned back slightly, but not before brushing her shoulder softly against Zivah’s, a small, grounding gesture.

“Not like this,” she murmured.

“I don’t like her,” Zivah said again.
But softer.
Less certain.
Anamika didn’t argue.
She just smiled, quiet, knowing.

“Okay.”

And somewhere else…
In a quiet corner no one bothered to look at
A girl sat alone.
Hidden behind fabric.
Hidden behind silence.
Hidden behind a life no one could see.
Unnoticed by everyone—
Except one.
And sometimes…
that is how everything begins.
_________

🌙✨️