Chapter 14

For a few seconds after Eraya stepped out,

no one rushed to fill the space.

Because some moments demand stillness.
And this was one of them.

Zivah’s gaze didn’t waver.

Not even for a second.

It wasn’t the kind of looking that made someone uncomfortable.

It wasn’t heavy.

It was… certain.

Like she had already imagined this-and reality had simply followed.

“You look…” Shivani started, then stopped.

Anamika glanced at her.

“What?”

Shivani squinted slightly at Eraya, tilting her head like she was analyzing something very serious.

“…like Zivah is going to become even more unbearable now.”

Zivah snapped out of it immediately.

“What does that even mean?”

Shivani crossed her arms.

“It means you’re going to stare like that all day.”

“I am not staring.”

“You are.”

“I’m appreciating.”

“You’re obsessing.”

Anamika burst into laughter.

“Okay, both of you stop,” she said, still smiling.

“You’re going to scare her again.”

Eraya blinked.

Then, unexpectedly,
a small smile formed.

Not hesitant.

Not forced.

Just… there.

Zivah noticed it immediately.

And something in her chest softened.

Again.

“Come here,” Shivani said gently, patting the space beside her.

Eraya hesitated for a fraction of a second,

then walked over.

Sat down.

Not stiffly this time.

Just… careful.

Shivani leaned forward dramatically.

“Okay, important question.”

Eraya looked at her.

“…yes?”

Shivani pointed at the outfit.

“Do you like it?”

A pause.

Eraya looked down at the fabric.

Her fingers brushing lightly against it.

“…I think I do,” she said slowly.

Zivah’s lips curved into a small smile.

Not wide.

Not obvious.

But real.

Shivani noticed.

Of course she did.

“Oh, she’s gone gone,” she muttered under her breath.

Zivah kicked her foot lightly.

“Shut up.”

Anamika stood up suddenly.

“Wait here,” she said, walking toward the bedroom.

Zivah frowned.

“Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.”

A few seconds later, she came back with Zivah’s phone.

“Stand, Please.” she told Eraya.

Eraya blinked. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Shivani immediately jumped in.

“Yes, listen to her. She looks harmless but she’s controlling.”

“I am not controlling,” Anamika replied calmly. “I am efficient.”

Eraya stood.

Still confused.

“Zivah, go stand next to her,” Anamika instructed.

Zivah raised a brow. “Why?”

Anamika just looked at her.

Zivah sighed.

Then moved.

Standing beside Eraya.

Close.

But not too close.

“Closer,” Shivani added immediately.

Zivah glared at her.

“…don’t push it.”

Shivani grinned. “I live to push it.”

Anamika held up the phone.

“Just stand normally.”

Neither of them knew what “normal” meant in that moment.

So they stood,

slightly awkward.

Slightly aware.

Slightly too conscious of each other.

“Okay,”

Anamika said.

“Look here.”

They did.

Click.

The moment froze.

“Wait,” Shivani said suddenly. “That was bad. Again.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Anamika argued.

“It was emotionally constipated,” Shivani shot back.

Zivah groaned. “Can we not do this?”

“No,” both of them said at the same time.

“Okay,” Shivani stepped forward.

She adjusted Eraya’s dupatta slightly.

Then paused.

Her movements softer now.

More careful.

Not teasing.

Just… thoughtful.

“There,” she said quietly.

Then stepped back.

Anamika lifted the phone again.

“This time-don’t think.”

And for a split second,
their eyes met.

Something passed between them.

Something quiet.

Something unspoken.

And this time,
when the picture was taken,

it felt different.

Less posed.

More real.

Anamika lowered the phone.

Looked at the picture.

Then smiled.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “This one stays.”

Shivani leaned over her shoulder.

“…okay, that’s actually nice.”

Zivah tried to grab the phone.

“Show me.”

“No,” Anamika pulled it back.

“Why?”

“Because you’ll overanalyze it.”

“I will not.”

“You will.”

Eraya watched them again.

The chaos.

The comfort.

The way they moved around each other without hesitation.

And then,

very quietly,

she said,

.”…can I see?”

All three of them paused.

Anamika softened immediately.

“Of course.”

She handed her the phone.

Eraya looked at the screen.

At the picture.

At herself-
standing beside Zivah.

Wearing something someone chose for her.

Standing in a place where she wasn’t pushed away.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

“…I look… different,” she whispered.
Zivah stepped a little closer.

Not too close.

Just enough.

“You look like yourself,” she said softly.

Eraya didn’t respond.

But she didn’t look away either.

Shivani suddenly clapped again.

“Okay, enough emotional growth for one morning.”

Zivah rolled her eyes. “You started it.”

“I always do,” Shivani said proudly.

Anamika stretched slightly.

“Let’s do something.”

Zivah frowned. “Like what?”

Shivani grinned.

“Movie.”

Eraya blinked.

“…movie?”

Shivani gasped dramatically.

“You’ve never had a proper movie day, have you?”

A pause.

Eraya shook her head slowly.

“…no.”

Shivani placed a hand over her heart.

“That ends today.”

Within minutes-
the living room transformed.

Blankets.

Cushions.

Lights dimmed.

Snacks brought out.

Eraya stood near the doorway for a second.

Watching.

Processing.

Zivah noticed.

Walked up beside her.

“You don’t have to join if you’re uncomfortable,” she said gently.

Eraya shook her head.

“…I want to.”

Zivah nodded.

Then, without making it obvious,
she picked up a blanket.

Walked back.

Sat down.

Leaving space beside her.

Not asking.

Just… offering.

Eraya saw it.

Hesitated.

Then,
walked over.

Sat down.

Carefully.

Shivani immediately jumped in from the other side.

“This is perfect,” she declared.

Anamika sat beside her, shaking her head.

The movie started.

But no one was really watching at first.

Because something else was happening.

Something quieter.

Halfway through,
Eraya shifted slightly.

The blanket slipping from her shoulder.

Without thinking,

Zivah reached out.

Adjusted it.

Gently.

The touch was brief.

Barely there.

But Eraya stilled.

Just for a second.

Not pulling away.

Not reacting.

Just… feeling it.

And for the first time,
it didn’t feel unfamiliar.

It felt…

okay.

Later,

Shivani was laughing loudly at something on the screen.

Anamika was trying to shush her.

Zivah was pretending to be annoyed.

And Eraya,
was smiling.

Not small.

Not hidden.

But real.

And somewhere in the middle of noise and laughter and soft touches ,
something settled deeper than before.

Not just comfort.

Not just safety.

But belonging.

The movie had long stopped being the center of attention.

It played in the background,

characters talking,

music swelling,

scenes shifting,

but none of it really mattered anymore.

Because something quieter…

something far more important…
was unfolding right here.

Shivani had already stretched out completely on the floor,

half her head resting on Anamika’s lap, dramatically critiquing every scene like she had personally directed better ones in her mind.

Anamika absentmindedly played with her hair, occasionally correcting her,
occasionally just smiling at her nonsense.

Zivah sat slightly leaned back against the couch.

Relaxed.

Or at least trying to be.

And beside her,

Eraya.

Not stiff anymore.

Not completely relaxed either.

But somewhere in between.

Her shoulders weren’t tense.

Her hands weren’t clenched.

She wasn’t sitting like she needed to leave at any second.

She was… there.

Present.

At some point,

without anyone noticing exactly when,
the distance between them had lessened.

Not dramatically.

Not intentionally.

Just… naturally.

Eraya shifted slightly.

Her arm brushing against Zivah’s.

It was light.

Accidental.

But she didn’t immediately pull away.

Zivah felt it.

Of course she did.

Her body stilled for just a second,
not reacting outwardly,

but internally, something paused.

She didn’t move away.

The thought came quietly.

Carefully.

Like she didn’t want to scare it away.

On the screen, something funny happened.

Shivani burst into loud laughter again.

“OH MY GOD-no, no, no, that was so bad-who writes this stuff?!”

Anamika laughed softly. “You would.”

“Excuse me, I have standards.”

“You do not.”

“I do.”

“You absolutely do not.”

Eraya smiled.

Her gaze still on the screen,
but her mind somewhere else.

She shifted again.

This time a little closer.

Barely noticeable.

But intentional.

Zivah didn’t look at her.

Didn’t turn.

But she felt it.

Every inch.

Every quiet movement.

And then,
without planning it,
without thinking too much,

Eraya spoke.

“…Zivah?”

The room didn’t go silent.

The movie still played.

Shivani still muttered something.

Anamika still responded.

But for Zivah,

everything stopped.

Her name.

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It was soft.

Careful.

Like something being tested for the first time.

But it was there.

Zivah turned slowly.

Her eyes landing on Eraya.

“…yeah?”

Her voice came out quieter than she intended.

Eraya looked at her.

Directly.

Not avoiding.

Not hesitating.

Just… looking.

“…can I ask something?”

Zivah nodded immediately.

“Anything.”

A small pause.

Eraya’s fingers moved slightly against the fabric of the blanket.

“…is it okay if I sit like this?”

Zivah frowned slightly.

“…like what?”

Eraya gestured faintly,
their shoulders brushing,

the closeness between them,
subtle,

but present.

Zivah blinked.

Then,

for a second,

she didn’t know what to say.

Because the question itself,
it carried so much.

So much caution.

So much unlearning.

Her expression softened instantly.

“…you don’t have to ask that,” she said gently.

A pause.

“Not with me.”

Eraya held her gaze for a moment longer.

Then nodded slowly.

“…okay.”

And she didn’t move away.

Zivah turned back toward the screen, but she wasn’t watching anymore.

Not really.

Because something inside her had shifted.

Something small,
but powerful.

She said my name.

The thought came again.

This time louder.

Clearer.

And it stayed.

A few minutes passed.

Maybe more.

Time blurred a little.

But Zivah couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She leaned slightly forward.

Texting toward Anamika.

Who immediately noticed.

Because of course she did.

Zivah tilted her head subtly.

A silent signal.

Look at your phone.

Anamika carefully slid Shivani’s head off her lap.

Ignoring Shivani’s dramatic protest,

“Wow, abandoned. Betrayed. Left to die.”

“What?” she typed.

Zivah leaned closer.

“…she said my name.” Zivah replied.

Anamika blinked.

“…what?”

Zivah’s eyes flickered toward Eraya for a second,

then back.

“…she said my name.”

And there it was.

That look.

That rare, unguarded, almost childlike happiness in Zivah’s eyes.

Anamika stared at her for a second.

Then,
her expression softened.

Completely.

“Oh,” she whispered.

And then,

a slow smile spread across her face.

“Oh.”

Zivah exhaled softly.

Like she didn’t even realize she had been holding it in.

“…she’s never said it before.”

Anamika shook her head slightly.

Not in disbelief.

But in quiet understanding.

“That matters to you,” she replied gently.

Zivah didn’t deny it.

Didn’t brush it off.

Didn’t hide it.

“…yeah,” she admitted.

Anamika looked at her for a moment longer.

“You’re gone,” she teased softly.

Zivah rolled her eyes.

But there was no real resistance.

“…shut up.”

Anamika smiled.

Then glanced past her,
toward Eraya.

Who was still watching the screen.

Still quiet.

Still present.

But something about her had changed too.

Subtly.

Because saying someone’s name,

is never just about sound.

It’s about permission.

About acceptance.

About letting someone exist close enough to be called.

And without realizing it,
Eraya had taken a step.

A small one.

But real.

Back on the couch,
Zivah sat beside her again.

This time,

a little closer.

Not hiding it.

And Eraya didn’t move away.

On the screen,
the movie reached some emotional plot.

Music rising.

Characters crying.

Something dramatic unfolding.

Shivani sniffed loudly.

“This is so unrealistic.”

Anamika laughed. “You’re crying.”

“I am not crying.”

“You are literally crying.”

“It’s dust.”

“There is no dust.”

“There is emotional dust.”

Eraya smiled again.

Soft.

Easy.

And beside her,

Zivah did too.

But for a completely different reason.

Because for her,

the most important moment of the day,

had already happened.

And it was just one word.

Zivah.
___________