The clock on Zoya’s phone glowed:

2:12 AM

The city outside was finally quiet.

But her mind wasn’t.

She lay curled up in bed, hugging her pillow, replaying everything — the park, the way Akif had looked at her, the way he hadn’t laughed when she opened up.

> “You didn’t come here for college.

You came here to breathe.”

Those words haunted her — in the softest, warmest way.

She blinked at her phone.

No new messages.

Until…

ping.

Akif: “You up?”

Her heart flipped.

She stared at the screen. Then typed back.

Zoya: “Couldn’t sleep.”

Akif: “Same.”

Then came the three dots.

Then they disappeared.

Then came back again.

Akif is typing...

Until finally:

Akif: “Can I call you?”

---

She hesitated just for a second.

Then her phone lit up.

Incoming call – Akif

She swiped.

> “Hey,” she whispered.

> “Hey,” he whispered back.

Silence.

But the kind that felt right.

> “I thought you sleep like a rock,” she said softly.

> “Not tonight,” he replied. “You?”

> “My head’s loud.”

> “Mine too.”

They were both in the dark.

Both under their own roofs.

Both staring at nothing — except each other’s voices.

---

> “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Zoya smiled a little. “You really want to know?”

> “Yeah.”

She took a shaky breath.

> “I was thinking… if I hadn’t come to Mumbai, I wouldn’t have met Aarfa.”

“If I hadn’t met Aarfa, I wouldn’t have joined Xavier.”

“If I hadn’t joined Xavier, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Akif was quiet.

Then said,

> “Now I’m scared of all the things that almost didn’t happen.”

Zoya’s chest clenched.

---

> “Can I tell you something?” he asked suddenly.

> “Of course.”

> “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

She bit her lip.

> “Is that a good thing?”

> “It’s… the only thing that makes sense to me right now.”

Silence.

> “I think about you more than I should,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Zoya’s heart dropped to her stomach.

> “Why does that feel like a confession?”

> “Because it is.”

---

She didn’t know what to say.

She clutched her blanket tighter, stared at the ceiling.

Then said,

> “I’m scared, Akif.”

> “Of me?”

> “No… of what this could become.”

He paused.

> “What if it becomes something beautiful?”

---

The line was quiet for a moment, then Zoya whispered:

> “If I ever feel like I’m falling apart again…

Can I call you?”

Akif’s voice was deep, low, honest:

> “Call me even if you’re not falling apart.”

> “Even if you just want to breathe.”

> “Even if it’s 2 AM.”

---

They didn’t say goodbye.

Just stayed on the call…

Until one of them fell asleep.

And the other didn’t hang up.

---

To be continued...

_____

It's not the real confession dear readers! It's slow-burn!