#❛ — tum mile toh har pal hai naya ⟨ aarav&diya. ⟩

[diyamehras]

aarav&diya — PART I: LONDON

tl;dr - so aarav and diya are new to our little alternate universe shipping. this version of reality isn’t too different from canon. it takes place in london, during aarav and diya’s college years and this is the first part of their story.  basically it’s their first year in college, and it’s really long so enjoy!

Diya didn't realize it would be so easy to convince her mother into sending Diya away to London for college. She'd applied to the University of Roehampton on a whim, wanting nothing more than to get out of the country. There were times she would be sitting in class and feel this immense hatred for everyone around her; as if she didn't belong in the room. She didn't belong with the jocks, or the pretty girls, or even her friend Veer Singhania who would occasionally look from his textbooks to give her a smile. If only that boy knew what she did for him, to make sure he didn't get bullied like the rest of the nerds at the school. He didn't make it easy either, what with his passion for brown nosing his books, and wearing those glasses. TWICE in a school year alone, she'd stopped the jocks from breaking them, knowing if Veer's mother caught wind she would withdraw him from the school. It made no sense the abuse Veer suffered, considering who his father was. Diya would have thought he would be the most popular boy in school, to match Diya's most popular girl. But all of that was in the past now, Diya was in London attending the school of her dreams, pursuing the degree of her dreams: theatre. Even as a little girl, she would stand in front of the mirror dressed in her mother's scarves and pretend to enact scenes. If there ever was a crowd at a party, one would find Diya in the middle of it. She shoulders her bag, a limited edition Michael Kors (a parting present from her mother) and enters the classroom, exhaling softly.

Aarav had no idea how any of this happened. He had landed in London nearly a week ago, on a very nice business class seat, one of the last favours he took from his father Suraj Roy. Because as soon as his entire degree was done and he got his certificate--he wasn't going back to Delhi. He wanted nothing to do with his family anymore--the same family that turned him into a man who was made to think that he was incredibly weak. He began walking through the campus with his large gym bag on his shoulder that housed his dance clothes, but the moment he crossed one of the houses that held the majority of the classroom of the entire Artssection, he caught sight of someone that made him do a double take. There was a wide smile on his face when he saw her and he only held up his hand and waved, waiting for her to lock eyes with him and notice. Because he was not going to move away from this window, especially when he'd pretty much lost contact with Diya Mehra more than a year ago when she'd last visited Delhi during the summer.

Diya hadn't been paying the utmost attention to the lecture, knowing that everything the professor was about to say was already in the syllabus that had been handed to them when they had first entered the class. So pen in her mouth, Diya let her mind (and eyes) dawdle. It was between her thoughts of looking at the lawn and the summer light that streamed into the classroom window and scrutinizing all her classmates for possible cute ones that she spotted somebody in the window, his hand up in a wave. Diya paused, squinting to get a better look and when realization HIT, the pen fell from Diya's mouth. It dropped to the floor, catching the attention of the entire class even the professor who raised an eyebrow at her. Not a good start for Diya Mehra. She'd heard this professor was the man who would mark all the BFA Acting auditions and if she didn't get in, well there really was no point staying now was there? "May I be excused?" Her voice was soft and at the professor's curt nod, Diya shouldered her bag once more and exited the classroom only to whack said boy with her bag. "What are you doing here?" There was a smile on her face, eyes wild with excitement. She hadn't seen Aarav since the summer she had been going into senior year, marking it to be nearly a year since she'd seen him. Just like that every memory came rushing back, but only one stuck. The goodbye kiss she'd given him when she'd left Delhi. It had been on a whim, and honestly Diya had been a TAD grateful she'd left right after, and never gone back to Delhi. Of course, this was over a year ago - maybe the reason he was being so friendly was because he'd forgotten about the kiss (if you could even call it that, their lips had barely grazed one another's).

Aarav only smiled when he noted the look in Diya's eyes when she realizedthat it was Aarav Roy in front of her. He knew they had history, a history that he recalled as very sweet, considering Diya was one of the few asides from Rohan Chopra, that Aarav had allowed in to his inner circle, a circle that consisted of V E R Y few people. Still, he remembered the last moment before he'd seen her for the last time, the way his fingers had tugged at her, wishing she wouldn't return back to that place she called him. But now when he watched her exit the buildings, he only laughed when he felt her very hard whack on his shoulder. "Ouch yaa, is this how you greet your old friends?" He murmured before smiling widely and wrapping his arms around her, not allowing himself to think about it too much before he chickened out. "I--got a dance scholarship," he gave her a shy smile, knowing she remembered how important dance had always been in his life--at least, he hoped she still remembered things about him because he remembered EVERYTHING about Diya Mehra.

Diya leaned into his embrace when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his shoulder. There was a strange flutter in her chest, one she’d only felt once before: the day she had kissed him, the day she was leaving Delhi. If Diya shut her eyes she could still picture the moment with a startling clarity. They’d been in the backyard of Diya’s grandmother’s house, sitting on the swing. It had been after the kiss, they’d been staring at each other, her with a wistful tinge and him with those forlorn eyes Diya couldn’t forget even if she tried. The way his fingers had wrapped loosely around her wrist when she had stood, her mother calling for her. She remembered putting her things in the car and when she looked back for a last glance, her feet took up a mind of their own and raced her back to Aarav as she flung her arms around him, whispering a soft mujhe bhoolna mat, in his ear. She had left after that, aware she may never see Aarav Roy again. At his words, she was pulled back to the present and looked up at him, eyes widening. “Shut up,” she whispered, awed. “Acting scholarship!” In Diya’s head, this warranted a proper hug, not just Aarav’s arm around her as they walked around campus. She turned in his grip then, throwing her arms around him. “I knew you could do it,” Diya whispered softly in his ear, lips grazing the skin there. For a brief pause, Diya wondered if she smelled bad but then recalled having spritzed a heavy dosage of her Miss Dior perfume on all her pulse points. If Aarav Roy was smelling her, all he would catch would be the scent of roses, and romance (she assumed).

Aarav tried to ignore how familiar it felt to have Diya Mehra standing there with him, in London of all places. Aarav had really never imagined running into her again, let alone in a country so far from home. But he supposed kismat really was strange and had people bump into each other when they'd least expect it. He was so chuffed when he heard her words, the tone in them and that expression on her face. It had made him feel even prouder than he'd been when he first got the letter. Of course, he'd applied on a whim, knowing that if it hadn't worked--he'd be living in Mumbai with his best buddy by his side, but thankfully things were different and that's how he managed to find Diya Mehra once again. For a moment, when he felt her lips against his ear, Aarav froze, because she'd only touched him like that once before, uttering the three soft words that were forever ingrained in his mind. Because for the first time, other than Rohan--someone had wanted to know Aarav, and not only did Diya know him, she actually enjoyed the time they spent together which was huge for him. "But look at you huh, you look like you fit in perfectly," and perhaps Aarav didn't, especially with his wide-eyed fascination at everything around him. Sure his family was rich but other than getting decent clothes and food to eat, Aarav wasn't born with a silver spoon in the mouth, his probably wasn't even brass.

Diya was the one to throw her arm around him this time as she led him further out of the hallways. One of the teachers on break was giving her a dirty look, and Diya knew if they didn't leave she would be showing the professor something even dirtier. "Don't you start," she warned, raising an eyebrow at him. Their proximity didn't feel strange to her, not at all. In fact, she welcomed this feeling. She welcomed the feeling of being wanted by somebody she'd known for a long time. Veer Singhania was supposed to be her best friend, but she'd been in London almost an entire month and not once had he called. Every time Diya called he would say he was busy cramming for some big test. She'd left him alone after the first few times, realizing that maybe best friends forever didn't literally mean FOREVER. Maybe in this case it meant, best friends until you move halfway across the world because out of sight out of mind. Not that Diya cared. She definitely wasn't bitter, oh no. Her hand slid off his shoulders and intertwined their fingers, indicating her POSSESSION over Aarav Roy. He was her friend; one she never would have made if not for that damned cricket game. "Acha, which house do you live in? I'm in Elm Grove, and so lucky because I got a studio which means no irritating roommate." Diya was rambling again, but she didn't pipe down the way she had the first time she'd spoken to Aarav (properly) because he knew her now, even found her rambles endearing (or so he said) (okay maybe he hadn't said it) (maybe she was assuming it because of the smile he always wore when she did so) (maybe even that was a reach). 

Aarav only chuckled at her little warning, loving that feisty side of her that he'd missed so much since she'd left. It was funny how she'd only be in Delhi for two out of the twelve months of the year and yet for him--those two months were the only months his pain and neglect didn't hit him as strongly. Or perhaps it was because his older brother Jai had gone to Bangalore for further studies and Aarav had grown a bit taller than his mother so she hadn't physically abused him too much. But he smiled when he felt the way their fingers interlaced because that was something they'd only done a few times in the privacy of her grandmother's backyard, when they'd be on the swing together, no one able to see their hands that lay side by side. Everything about Diya was familiar though, and perhaps that's why now his heartbeat too had returned to normalcy as opposed to that crazed thumping that was going on earlier. His grin only widened at her rambling because he truly had missed it a lot, just like he'd missed everything about her, even if that was something that he'd never told her; even at the start of every summer, he'd just give her a casual hug, never voicing how much he'd missed her in the last ten months since they'd last been together. But right now, he was just taking it all in still, loving how while she'd changed, she was still the Diya he'd always known. "I'm in Chadwick, so we're neighbours," he smiled before nodding up at the building up ahead. "I'm on one of the higher floors, a premium room, with a balcony. But really, I just got lucky because this other guy who'd chosen a room before me in the same scholarship sector--got sick and decided to attend from the next semester," he shrugged hoping she didn't think he was using his father's money to get a better place. Because any room would be better than his old room back at the Roy family house which had been smaller than a bathroom really.

Diya raised an eyebrow when he mentioned a premium room before nudging him gently with her shoulder. "Then you should also know I'm going to be spending all my time at your place. Isn't Chadwick one of the new houses?" She didn't voice how lucky he was, because she remembered the size of his room in Delhi; she hadn't said anything then, or at least after the first few times. Instead, she would come down from Mumbai each summer with posters and different decorations to hang up in his room so it felt a little less like a cubicle or a cell, and more like someplace a person would live. She remembered the last summer she'd come down, she'd brought a new bedding set (in white and gray) and a small pillow. She'd found the pillow incredibly cute because it was a plushy heart, incredibly soft to the touch. Of course Khushi Patel had asked her why she was getting a friend a heart pillow but Diya had never paid that much attention to details like that. Of course, Diya always wondered if Aarav ever kept up all the stuff she'd spent hours decorating his room with after she left, but she never had the courage to ask. She adjusted the straps of her backpack, lifting it higher up her back before shrugging. "Do you have any classes?" She wondered if it would be too presumptuous to suggest spending the day at his place, just catching up.

Aarav had let his smile fade when he thought back to the life he'd led for the last eighteen years, all of it always reminding him of some sad story in a movie or a book, but this wasn't imagination. That life--had been Aarav's reality. But when he felt her nudge him, he turned and only laughed at her words before nodding. "That's absolutely fine with me, waise bhi Delhi mein, you always let me come over to your place, so it's only fair that I do the same now." He nodded when she spoke about it being new, Aarav really had gotten lucky because he felt--almost like some prince in a place that nice, in fact--the first two nights he hadn't even been able to sleep because there was just so much space. But before she came over, he'd have to hide some of the things he'd brought with him from Delhi, unsure of how she'd react if she saw the bedding set he'd been using on his bed here and the heart pillow that sometimes smelt like Diya. Aarav was sure he sounded like a lunatic to himself so if he let her see that he'd brought his Dilliwali Diya back here with him--she'd think the same. But his thoughts were left incomplete when he heard her question and shook his head. "Uh no actually, I had a class in the morning and was just heading to the fitness center, I only have a dance audition later tonight." He could see his building up ahead and smiled before he glanced back at her. "Do you want to come up? We'll start the hospitality service now?"

Diya tried not to flush when he mentioned the fitness centre, recalling another memory from when they had been in Delhi. She remembered going over to the Roys' bungalow only to be told that Aarav was at some gym nearby. The only gym she recalled on Hailey Road was near Connaught Place, and the only gym in Connaught Place was the posh one where all the Delhi girls who wanted to be models or actresses would be holed up. Diya hadn't felt as if she would belong there, especially in the ratty pink shirt which belonged to her mother (that Diya wore tied halfway at the waist to expose some skin) and the new Levi's she'd bought last week. Still she'd headed there, only to see Aarav attacking the punching bag as if it had personally offended him. Her strongest memory from that had been going home afterwards, recollecting the image of him all sweaty and aggressive, unable to understand why it made her so hot. She cleared her throat then before nodding. "A dance audition?" Diya turned on the beaten path that would lead them into the building where Aarav lived. "Can I come watch? Or ooh we can go out to celebrate afterwards because you're DEFINITELYgetting in!" At this declaration, Diya threw her arm around Aarav's shoulders once again, walking in step with him.

Aarav truly almost was beginning to feel as if time hadn't passed since the last time he'd been with Diya. The last time he'd felt her skin under his own fingertips, or the last time their lips had touched, which had incidentallyalso been the first time. But Aarav hadn't realized it was going to be the last time and he still remembered when he'd gone to her grandmother's house on the first day of summer, eager to know why Diya hadn't just come over like she always did, only to be informed that she was too busy this year in Mumbai preparing for college and how she wouldn't be coming at all during the summer. It had hurt, badly...but Aarav had tried to cope by just putting all his energy into his workouts and his dance--thankfully they both paid off. He listened to her words and laughed before holding his one arm up to wrap around her waist, a bit hesitant before went ahead and did it, not missing how comfortable it felt. "You can come watch and we'll definitely go celebrate, but not about my getting in, but about our meeting again, here of all places," he grinned as he led her into the elevator, not missing the looks he was getting from other students who lived in the same building.

Diya one hundred percent did NOT understand the tingle that ran down her spine as Aarav's arm came around her waist, almost possessive with the way she was drawn in towards him as he led her towards the elevator. She caught the eye of a blonde, blue-eyed boy who seemed to be looking at Aarav with envy and just to watch the boy lust over her some more, Diya only tugged Aarav closer to her, her fingers running through her hair. The boy's eyes narrowed to slits and as the elevator doors closed, there was a smug little smile on Diya's features. "Okay shut up, I'm reassuming my position of your fairy godmother slash cheerleader now that I'm INDEFINITELY back in your life and I refuse to tolerate this pessimistic behaviour." Diya remembered he mentioned living on the higher floors, so she could do this without being interrupted. She turned in his grip so she was facing him and placed her hands on his chest. He'd gotten even taller than she remembered. When had that happened? Diya cleared her throat then, "Okay repeat after me. I will kick some serious ass at that audition. I will get in. I will go out and get sloshed with Diya Mehra afterwards." Of course, there was a History of Linguistics elective which would advise Diya against this plan, but she didn't care. Aarav ranked higher than any lame elective she needed for her degree.

Aarav hadn't missed the way Diya's eyes had flitted over to that blonde guy watching them, which was why rather than being surprised at the way she pulled him closer, and ran her fingers through his hair--he was only amused, before feeling a bit annoyed at the way it seemed like perhaps she was trying to make the other guy jealous or something. But he didn't voice it--considering they'd only just met and he didn't want to lose the only friend he had here. He had loosened his grip around her when the doors closed, watching as she decided to suddenly take charge, something he'd always been rather surprised by when they were younger as well. "It's not pessimistic--" he was about to continue when he felt her hands on his chest, surprised at the sudden warmth that shot straight through him before he looked up back at her. "I will kick some serious ass at that audition. I will get in. I will go out and get sloshed with Diya Mehra afterwards, and watch how she makes a complete fool of herself as well," he added that in very quickly, only smiling at the look on her face before shrugging in response.

Diya nodded along to the words he was repeating as if he were reciting the rap from some new song on the Billboard charts, before pausing a few seconds later. She opened her eyes, whacking him in the chest. "Hey," she whined, "not fair!" She'd only done that one time; they hadn't even gone out. His family and hers had gone out for some dinner and they'd only gotten out of it because Diya had faked a stomach ache, and her mother hadn't wanted to leave her alone in the house so she had been deposited at the Roys' with Aarav. Of course she had been confused as to why it was decided Aarav wasn't going anyways, but she hadn't questioned it, relieved that she would have company once everybody left. They'd snuck into his father's liquor cabinet, trying whiskey for the first time (Diya STILL hated it). She didn't remember much from that night, except the lecture from her mother the next morning about how she couldn't just sleep in some boy's bed b]with him. Honestly, Diya wasn't even sure how that had happened, and Aarav never told her so she'd always assumed he had no recollection of the night either. Still, Diya pouted at Aarav, turning away from him as she crossed her arms - pretending to sulk.

Aarav only smiled when she whined because he knew she was thinking about the one time they'd been together where alcohol was involved. Well, Aarav wasn't sure if Diya had some before that night but for him, it was his first time considering his parents didn't take him often to the parties where alcohol was served to underage just because they were the affluent types. Still, the two of them had definitely had a lot to drink, and even though they hadn't liked it, the full bottle of his father's priciest whiskey had been drained by the two of them. After that, he remembered Diya dragging him into the living area to dance, first like comic characters, and then when she'd gotten tired--it had been slow dancing with her hanging on to Aarav who'd been swaying them along to the music. That was the first time he'd looked at Diya and hadn't seen just his friend but saw her as someone he wanted to spend a lot more time with. Of course, he hadn't truly understood those feelings until a lot later. Still, he'd managed to lead her up the stairs to his room, the last one on the second floor, a strange shaped room but it had become his comfort place, especially once Diya had given it her special Diya touch. Aarav remembered how he'd laid her down and tried to cover her, only to have her reach for him. Laughing he'd hidden her under the sheets before noting how she wasn't moving and lowered the sheets only to discover she'd already dozed off. That's when he'd kissed her forehead for the first time. He had only done it because she'd just looked so peaceful and for once in his life, he'd found someone who hadn't been forced into Aarav's company and she rather seemed to enjoy it too, and he'd been completely intoxicated but after that, he'd only curled up on his side, away from her while they slept on the same bed. The next morning too, out of habit, he'd awaken before her and noted how she was curled up with him, almost making it seem like they'd been that way the whole night--his fear had taken over then and he'd quickly take untangled himself and was about to shift to the floor when his older sister had walked in--of course what happened after that was something the scars on his back spoke volumes about. But right now, he didn't want to think about that and instead, he dropped his gym bag on the floor of the elevator before moving back to her side and smiling before he leaned his chin on her shoulder. "Forgive me, but I mean--you're seriously cute when you're drunk."

Diya jerked her shoulder so his chin would bounce when he rested it there. There was of course, ONE thing in her very hazy memory from that night which had stuck with her. The kiss to her forehead; it was so hazy, so faint Diya often wondered if she'd made it up. The feeling in her chest however, at the memory of it alone reassured her she wasn't making it up. His lips had very gently touched her skin. She'd never tell him but she loved it when he would kiss her forehead (even if it was very rare). There was something she preferred in these kisses: a promise of tomorrow, a promise of hope, a promise to keep them together. It had been those very promises that had held them together all these years, the strong glue to a very shaky (and very stubborn) foundation. Of course that wasn’t to say she hated any other forms of affection, quite enjoyed them actually. Yet there was something about this embrace that warmed her heart in a way no other form of physical intimacy could. There was SOMETHING about Aarav Roy that warmed her heart in a way nothing else ever could. She could spend the rest of her time with him and it still wouldn't be enough. Sometimes Diya wondered if he truly was her other half, so much so. "Nice try," Diya muttered, before the elevator broke her sulk with a loud DING! She tugged him out, fingers curling around his wrist possessively. "What number are you?" Perhaps she should have asked this question before parading him down the entire hallway, staring at the different doors leading to different dorm rooms. She'd never told Aarav of course, the things her mother had said. How she'd told Diya not to be so cheap, to sleep with a boy at such a young age. She rememebered not refuting any claim, partially because her mother wouldn't listen but also because she herself wondered what it would feel like to experience that. That too with Aarav. It was a desire that still plagued the deepest parts of her subconscious.

Aarav had just about bit his tongue when she'd jerked her shoulder so quickly which had him back away slightly. He didn't voice it, of course, learning from a very young age that talking about your hurt or injuries, only depicted you as a weakling. It's why he kept everything closely guarded to himself, not willing to be thrown down that path once more. He only managed to push those negative thoughts away when he felt her tug him out of the elevator, with barely enough time to grab his bag before he felt himself being paraded down the hallway. He only chuckled before nodding to one of the doors they'd passed as he dug into his pocket for his keycard before sliding it in and opening the door, gesturing for her to enter first, forgetting how he had her gift to him, the pillow still on his bed, or how she'd notice the bedding..except they wouldn't be in his bedroom, so hopefully it was okay. Aarav shut the door behind himself before he shrugged. "So this is home for the next couple of months. Bada hai na..pichle kamre se," he trailed off, hating that once more he was reminding himself AND her of the past he came from.

Diya giggled at the way he introduced her to his humble accommodation. She turned around, taking it in before nodding. "So thankfully, this time when I fall off your bed I won't be risking a spinal injury right?" Diya's voice was teasing; she knew he was always sensitive about being the runt of the litter; she tried to ease life for him, the months she was around. Diya didn't mind putting herself in Chandini Roy's crossfire, knowing that if she shouldered the blame for something Aarav obviously had NOT done - she would get a smile and a light telling off, while Aarav would get off scot-free. She didn't know why this was a habit of hers, to save everybody, to take all the blame onto her own shoulders. Her grandmother liked to call her the second coming of the Messiah (her grandmother was Christian), telling her that God had chosen her specially, to love everyone as though they were her own. She liked hearing that, even if she didn't believe there could everbe anything SPECIAL about her. Ironic, no? An actress who wasn't self-obsessed? But then again, she was a cliche in that too. Diya set her own bag down, running her fingers through her hair as she walked through the apartment, pushing open the door to what she thought was Aarav's room. She was not wrong, spotting the pillow she'd given it. So when she turned to look at Aarav, there was a certain surprise in her gaze. "You kept it?" Diya's voice was soft, as if she couldn't believe anybody would care for her that much - well outside from her family (but even then her father had run from her, her mother too busy for her own daughter).

Aarav chuckled at her words before shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think you're going to be falling off my bed now, but yes no risk for any injuries," he gave her another wide grin before shrugging. He knew she was working hard at ensuring he felt okay, he felt almost pacified and while he hated that she did it--it also made him feel special because Diya had been around. She'd known parts of his past and had still chosen to stick around. It had been one of the greatest realizations he'd had when he was younger that she was willing to risk getting in trouble because she truly liked being with him. Aarav certainly hadn't expected for her to push open the door to his bedroom right away though and so he was left a bit stunned when she turned to ask him about the pillow. So he walked up to her and shrugged. "How could I not, tu itne pyaar se mere liye laayi thi, and plus I didn't know if I'd ever--see you again, and the pillow--well, it comforts me," he admitted quietly before looking back at her, giving her an almost nervous smile.

Diya turned back to look at him only to realize how close he was to her, how she would only have to lean in a little bit again to press her lips to his. If she kissed him this time, she wouldn't be as cowardly as she had been the first time. She would kiss him properly this time around, of course the last time she'd kissed him, the last time she'd seen him - Diya had been QUITEinexperienced. It was only in senior year that her boyfriend Karan had pressured her into sex (for the first time and every consequent time after that). Perhaps that was why she was afraid of intimacy too, afraid that people only wanted to get close to her for things like that alone. Except for Aarav; she trusted him, she'd known him for too long to think that way of him. Diya cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, staring down at her feet. "I didn't expect you to..." There it was; the admittance of her insecurity, her fear of being forgotten. She shook her head then, forcing a smile onto her features. "I'm starving. Do you have anything to eat?" Diya moved away from the bedroom and towards the kitchen, letting out a shaky breath when she thought she was far enough from Aarav's prying eyes and ears.

Aarav hadn't missed the way her eyes had darkened ever so slightly when she'd turned around to face him. He knew he was too close perhaps and yet he felt drawn to her. It had always been that way after their fateful meeting in which they'd become friends--after that, his eyes could spot her anywhere and he felt pulled towards her like a magnet. Nevermind the fact that before then--they'd both avoided each other like the plague. Still, he watched her tuck her hair behind her ear and heard her words, sighing softly at the surfacing emotions he heard in them. She wanted to save him from his pessimistic streak, and Aarav, well he wanted to save her from that insecurity black hole inside of her that always threatened to take his Diya away from him. He shrugged though before giving her a smile. "Well, I didn't expect you to hang on to that friendship bracelet I made for you back when we were 16--but it was your birthday coming up aur mere paas kuch paise nahi the, so if you didn't--because it was a silly gift, I don't mind. But the pillow, it helped make that small place feel comfier." The bracelet he spoke about though, he'd made with all her favourite colors, aware that it was silly but Aarav had always been artistic and knew that he couldn't write her a card but instead he could give her the bracelet and so he did, and she'd worn it those last few days diligently, until Aarav never saw it again. At her words, he rolled his eyes before following her into the kitchen. "There might be some Maggi, and maybe some Kurkure?" He gave her a wince before shrugging. "I haven't exactly gone grocery shopping yet..."

Diya shrugged, patting his shoulder gently. "It's okay, you're a boy and as nani would say - you don't have to do all this work. This is the woman's job." She nodded towards the table, gesturing for him to go ahead and sit. As of late, she'd been thinking a lot of her grandmother. There had been something else the woman had said too, a night time story Diya remembered before her mother had chastised the elderly lady for telling such stories to a young impressionable girl. "Maggi sounds perfect." Not that Diya would tell him, but she'd been spending more time not eating than actually eating. She'd seen all the girls here, with their impossibly tiny waists and perfect figures, and suddenly the inferiority was back in full force. Reaching up on her toes, Diya tugged down the pot, placing water in it as she let it boil. Diya turned then, leaning against the kitchen countertop as she looked at Aarav. "So how-- how did this all happen?"

Aarav frowned at her words before he took a seat on the table, unsure of why she'd said it like that. The Diya he knew had always been pretty vocal about how she expected both genders to be equal and Aarav had pretty much gone along with it, seeing the benefits of it pretty quickly as well. "But I'm going to have to--tu thodi har din aane wali hai mere liye dinner banane ke liye na?" Although, the thought was tempting, except it would feel like something more than it was and Aarav didn't want to let himself believe there was something else going on here. He watched as she looked entirely at home in his kitchen before looking at him and questioning him which had him stand as well and lean on the same countertop across from her, giving her a quick shrug before sighing. "I guess when you didn't come back that last summer--it forced me to think about my future some more, aur main aur Rohan, you remember him right? My other friend? We were going to move away to Mumbai as soon as I hit eighteen. But on a random whim, maine yahaan apply kiya, dance scholarship ke liye, and I got selected..Papa was apparently really proud," Aarav rolled his eyes, not believing anything out of his parents anymore, "so I--so I came here.." He doesn't want to tell her how he thought she too had seen him for what he was and chosen to leave, knowing it would be the wrong thing to say and perhaps would only upset her.

Diya chuckled at his words, before nodding as she turned back to the pot, stirring the noodles and the Tastemaker she'd dumped into the mix. She gave him a tiny smile when she looked up. "Why do I have to come over to your place to make dinner? Mere ghar pe bhi toh hai kitchen, tu bhi aa sakta hai aur main wahan pe khana bana sakti hoon." Diya had always been vocal about women's rights, and feminism but there was a certain image her grandmother had painted, one where the woman had cooked lunch for her husband every day until he'd retired in a tiffin box and Diya found herself craving that. She craved the domestic life she saw in her mother's films where she too would have a man she loved, and fix his tie in the mornings as they tried to sneak kisses while the children weren't looking. Diya wanted two girls, maybe twins if they were lucky and as she looked across at Aarav in the kitchen, the fantasy in her head began to repaint itself, positioning Aarav in every scenario. The thought terrified her because this... this was JUST her friend right? She wasn't allowed to think this way about her friend. "So what's Rohan doing now? Trying to find some other boy to pawn his homesexuality on?" She'd always been suspicious of Aarav's friend, not because she was a homophobe but because it felt like she was always in competition with the other boy for Aarav's attention and Diya HATED losing.

Aarav had laughed rather loudly at her vocal comments on his other best friend. He'd never believed Rohan when he'd said that Diya always gave him an evil eye whenever he was around Aarav, but now it was seeming to be true. "He's gone into photography, you remember how he always used to be lugging around the camera." In fact, Rohan had managed to capture quite a few perfect moments between him and Diya, pictures that he'd given to Aarav who had actually developed them all and put them in a scrapbook for her. A gift for her eighteenth birthday. Only--she hadn't come that year and now he had the gift in his suitcase, just as a memory for himself because he'd never truly thorugh he'd run into her like this ever again. He'd give it to her..he knew he would at some point now--especially since it had really always belonged to her. "I like the idea of me coming over to your place too by the way because to me--Maggi[ has truly NEVERsmelt this appetizing," he chuckled before moving around the counter to enter the kitchen, smiling at the strange look in Diya's eyes, one that made him want to question her, even though he knew how easily she could shut off and not say a word to him.

Diya flushed at his compliment, and brandished the spatula. "You're just saying that," she murmured, but the smile on her face was so big it could probably swallow the Great Wall of China whole. She didn't know what these feelings were, what this elephant was doing by sitting on her chest - she wished she could get some answers. She wished somebody would tell her why she wanted so badly to kiss Aarav in this kitchen right now, to have him trap her between this counter, his hands either side of her as he kissed her proper. As he kissed her until she forgot everything besides his name. She wanted it so badly; in such a way, Diya had never wanted anything like this before. Her entire body ACHED for it. A foreign concept, one even now she would bury at the bottom of her chest - never to be approached again. Pouring the Maggi into a single bowl, Diya placed two forks in the dish, placing it at the small kitchen table. There were so many memories just like these, of them in Delhi, sharing food, sharing secrets - a perfect twosome. Diya remembered fighting with him over Lays chips before they'd ended up tossing the potato snack at each other, laughing as Aarav had tackled her into the couch, his fingers at her sides until she doubled over in laughter, admitting defeat. Summers in Delhi truly had been the best part of her adolescent years, now that she thought about it.

Aarav rolled his eyes at her words, but he hadn't missed that beautiful rosy glow that took over her cheeks, which meant his compliment had definitely resonated with her, the way he wanted it to. But he didn't know why she was still looking at him like that, it was a look that evoked something strange in him, the same strange posessive feeling he'd buried back in Delhi. Because he wasn't ALLOWED to be jealous over her, or anyone really--his mother had taught him quite early on how everyone in his life would leave because no one could ever care about him. Aarav Roy was--unlovable. But right now, he refused to dwell on those thoughts and looked at the dish she'd placed between the two of them while he dug into it, not being able to resist even a second longer. "I told you this is amazing," except his words were incredibly muffled thanks to his mouth being full of the delicious Maggi she'd made.

Diya slapped his wrist when he spoke with noodles in his mouth. "Manners!" Still, the smile returned to her features and Diya wondered if on some subconscious level she craved Aarav's approval. It certainly seemed that way, with what her cheeks turning the colour of the sunset every time he so as much smiled in her direction. Was THIS why she'd been so upset at not being able to go to Delhi in summer? Some part of her fantasized of a relationship, one which would be borne because of the fact Diya had given him a going away kiss the last time she'd visited. She didn't know about Aarav but that was all she'd been able to think about. She'd rewritten that scene in her head at least a dozen times, and all of them revolved around kissing him properly, kissing him until he looked dazed and his lips slightly plumper than before, his hair ruffled too. Diya took a small bite of the meal in front of her, reminding herself she couldn't eat TOO MUCH, not unless she wanted to gain more weight.

Aarav had let his fork fall out of his hand when she'd smacked his wrist, pouting when he had to get back up to rinse it before returning to eat. When he did, he caught the way Diya looked almost dazed and frowned because while he definitely did NOT understand the whole female fascination with having a perfect skinny body, he could see Diya had some bags around her eyes, and her clothes seemed to fit a bit different on her, unless well--he'd known a different Diya back in Delhi and maybe the real Diya was someone else. "Eat no? You're not having any, and you're the one who said you were starving," and that's when he dug his own fork properly into the noodles and held it out in front of her mouth, not moving an inch until she took it all in.

Diya had been about to tell Aarav to stop worrying so much about her when he'd gone ahead and placed his fork right in front of her mouth so she had no choice but to lean in and take the forkful of noodles into her mouth. She shut her eyes as she chewed, reminding herself that she'd only had a handful of cashews and a banana all day, this would just be fulfilling her daily calorie intake. Diya pushed the fork away from her when she had eaten everything off it and placed it back down into the bowl so he could eat himself. "So this audition. Tell me more. What's it about?" This was always easier, to divert from her own problems and ask about other people instead. It worked like a charm for her each time, and yet Diya knew Aarav would see through it. She'd done it often enough in Delhi, but then again so did he.

Aarav narrowed his eyes at her when she'd looked so disgusted and bothered at having to eat off his fork. But Aarav knew well enough that it wasn't because it was his fork but it was because he was forcing her to eat. That only confirmed his suspicions which hurt him because truly--Diya was perfect to him. "It's to be a part of the university's dance troupe. I mean--I know they'll give me a spot in the back because I did come with a dance scholarship, but--if I got the lead dancer's part--that would be pretty amazing too," he smiled before reaching over, his one hand covering hers as he rubbed it gently. "Can you stop pretending now?" Diya had seen all of Aarav's reality, and she'd stuck by him. He just hoped she'd let him do the same. "Talk to me yaa, I'm your friend...I mean, I hope I still am," he gave her another smile, telling her he was trying to make light of the situation.

Diya managed a tiny smile when she felt Aarav's hand rest atop hers and she only tilted her hand so her palm was touching his and she intertwined their fingers before shutting her eyes. "Everybody is just so perfect here," she mumbled, before leaning back into her chair, sinking down in it. Her grip on his hand slackened, as if she were afraid he would let go once he heard what she had to say. As if he'd realize the Diya Mehra he'd gotten to know over the many summers they spent together was a facade, a LIE and this... insecure little girl was the real Diya Mehra. A Diya Mehra worthy of nobody's affections, certainly not her father's nor her absent mother's. Diya had always worshipped her mother, even now - pursuing acting because of her childhood dream to be exactly like her mother. Diya used her free hand to wipe away the tears that splashed down her cheeks and let out a watery laugh. "Pata nahin mujhe kya... kya hogaya hai. Sorry I--I shouldn't have said..."

Aarav easily got off his chair and kneeled down in front of her chair when she started apologizing and he saw the tears streaming down her face. He let go of her hand, gently cupping her face in both of his palms before he shook his head. "Tujhe mujhse maafi maange ki zarooraat nahi hai, kabhi nahi.." and he gave her a tiny smile, wondering if perhaps the reason his truth had been easier to tell her was because she too was struggling with her own demons. The only difference was--Aarav's had started out as external before turning into internal ones while Diya's had been inside her the whole time. He didn't know what it was, but he couldn't help but feel as if she really was the most perfect girl he'd ever seen or met in his life. And leaning up slightly, Aarav came level with her and shook his head. "You AREperfect, Diya Mehra," his voice was a low whisper before his gaze darted downwards to her slightly damp lips thanks to her tears that had fallen. And within the next second--his lips were on hers, gently wiping away the salty taste of her tears, trying to erase the hurt that was living so largely within her, behind the happy smiling mask she wore every single minute of every day. It was while he kissed her that he remembered just how different it was from the last time the two had been this close, and Aarav knew she could push him away at any given second--but he just prayed she wouldn't..not yet.

Diya blinked when she felt his lips against her, and she remained unresponsive for a few seconds before her hormones kicked into gear. Diya's fingers sank into Aarav's unruly hair, meeting his lips with equal interest, equal passion. This was after all what she'd dreamed of after many sleepless nights. This was the kind of kiss she wanted to give him that day she'd brushed her lips against his, so hesitant, so afraid. She was still afraid; afraid to know what any of this meant; she was afraid, because what if he left her? Everybody in her life had always left her, what would make Aarav Roy so different? And yet she finds her answer in their kiss. And the way she pulls away to catch her breath before her hands cup his cheeks and pull him back for another kiss; it's a string of small kisses then, one after the other, desperate, hungry - yet hesitant. It's only when Diya shuts her eyes again, fingers in Aarav's hair that she allows herself to surrender to it. She tugs gently (experimentally) on his bottom lip before applying the french kissing tactic she'd heard so much about.

Aarav had never kissed anyone before that first kiss he'd had with Diya in her grandmother's garden, and he'd never kissed anyone after that. So whatever he knew of the art, was from books and movies sadly, which didn't help much. But he continued mimicking her actions until she took charge, feeling her fingers in his hair tugging gently on his hair before they both pulled apart, breathing heavily. He thought it was done then and was getting ready to stand when he felt her hands on his cheeks when she pulled him back. There was something about the way she was so sure in what she wanted that had Aarav smiling against her lips. He feels her teeth grazing his bottom lip and lets out a tiny moan, his own hands slipping away from her face to rest at her waist now, gently squeezing her there, until one hand rests against her bare skin, surprised at how natural this was all beginning to feel.

Diya stood when she felt his hand at her waist, tugging him up with her too. Her hands moved from where they were in his hair, so her arms were now looped around his neck. She allowed him to walk them backwards until her back was pressed against the kitchen countertop, just as she'd dreamed. The way he kissed her was different, much different to any other kiss she's ever had. He kissed her as if he were hungry, as if she were the only person who could cure him, the only person who could pull him out of the quicksand threatening to swallow him whole. She knew this because she felt the same DESPERATION reciprocated in her own actions. Her hands slid under his shirt, not in any hurry to go anywhere. She was perfectly content with her hands against his torso as they kissed until either one of them pulled away for air. When they did, chests heaving, Diya allowed her lips to trail hungrily along her jaw, hands slowly moving up shirt properly now. For the first time in her life, Diya didn't want to slow down, not when she knew she'd wanted THIS since she was sixteen, since she'd seen that irritating girl who also lived on their road trying to vy for Aarav's attention (god bless his oblivious soul). She'd wanted this the day she'd kissed him in the garden; Diya wondered if there had been a time where she hadn't wanted this, and now to finally have it...

Aarav hadn't expected it to be like this. He'd just kissed her on a whim because he wanted her to know how he saw her and the words he wanted to use hadn't come to him. But now, with that kiss, she'd understood. At least..he hoped she had considering how she'd reciprocated the action. And even if Aarav wouldn't admit it yet, with the way she was kissing him, he felt...wanted something he hadn't had a chance to ever experience before..and definitely not in this manner. But he continued kissing her, gasping when he felt her very cold hands against his hot skin, before he began doing the same, only this time, his hands at her waist gripped her tight so that he could lift her onto the mini island before he let go of her, moving back for a split second, wanting to memorize this moment. Her slightly messed up hair, her heaving chest, her wide eyes, and the way her lips looked. Aarav needed to commit this moment to memory before he lost it. His palms were on her knees as he pushed them slightly, wanting to stand between her legs so there was no space left between them as he kissed her once more, his own hand behind her neck as he deepened it, surprising himself with his quick pick up of it.

Diya hadn't expected to spread her legs so willingly, but when she felt his palms press down gently on her kneecaps, it was as if she were putty in his hands. When his lips came down on hers again, Diya found herself grateful to the fact Aarav's flatmate was not going to arrive until next term. If somebody walked in on this, Diya wasn't sure she'd ever live it down. Her thought process was interrupted with a soft moan when she felt his mouth insistent against hers, DEMANDING attention; attention she gladly gave up. Her hands tugged at his shirt, wanting it off his person so she could actually see the muscle definition she could feel under her fingers. Was this what her mother had meant? The lecture she'd given her about waking up in Aarav Roy's bed? Well, now Diya wouldn't mind waking up in Aarav's bed, with a lot less clothes than she had on that night. Of all things, Diya had not expected for this to be happening when she'd woken up this morning. She'd thought she would be in her History of Theatre class, and then her Intro To Acting for the Screen class and then head home to work on assignments, and curse her professor for giving so many readings. She'd never in a million years thought she would see Aarav Roy, nor had she thought she would be making out with him in his house. Guess it was true what they said: girls really did go WILD when they moved away from home.

Aarav had been momentarily shy when she'd managed to get his shirt off his body while he continued kissing her, only breaking apart for a few moments. But there was something incredibly addicting about Diya Mehra's kisses, a fact he'd noticed on that day when they'd first kissed. Especially since it had left him aching for more. He had never known what kisses were like, or what sensations they could evoke in someone's body. Of course, Rohan had offered up his own services for Aarav to have some practice, but that was a line that Aarav did not feel right crossing. Instead, he continued kissing this beautiful woman in front of him, surprised that she too was reacting just as eagerly. His own lips trailed down from hers now, knowing they both needed to breathe. Except when he encountered the neck of her top, he only nudged it away slightly so his lips could claim every inch of her exposed skin as he could.

Diya let out a soft whimper when she felt his lips move along her neck, a whimper that soon turned to a soft moan when she felt the way he nudged away as much as the fabric of her top as possible to continue kissing his way down her skin. Diya pulled away from him momentarily so she could tug her own shirt off, leaving her in the bra she'd tossed on this morning. Looking down at it now, in its plain navy blue entirety, Diya wished she'd had the sense to wear something a litttle more enticing. Maybe the cream lace bralette she'd bought last week from Victoria's Secret. Another store her mother had warned her against, telling her she didn't need to step into until she was much OLDER. Her mother, Diya decided, was a hypocrite. Her arms wrapped around Aarav's neck, tugging him closer to her again, as her fingers hooked under his chin, tilting his face upwards so she could kiss him again, a softer kiss. Not the hungry ones they'd shared earlier; this one was lazy, it wanted to take its time.

Aarav had never once imagined seeing Diya without her shirt on. In all honesty, he wanted to, but he'd never allowed himself to imagine it--knowing that it was NEVER going to happen which meant he was better off not even thinking about it. Except now, he was just incredibly surprised and very very eager to see more of what she could help him learn. His lips trailed down her skin, kissing every inch of the newly exposed skin he could find before he looked up at her, feeling her arms around his neck, drawing him in close as he looked at her, surprised at how comfortable she seemed with this, and with him. They'd been apart for so long, none of their moments had been this charged before and yet--all Aarav could think about was how strange it was that all these years later--they'd end up here together.

Diya only smiled against his lips when he kissed her back, fingers running gently through his hair. "Aarav," she mumbled. "Aarav, suno," she tried again, wanting to capture his attention but it seemed that Aarav's attention had been captured by Diya's earlobe he was currently tugging on. She let out a soft moan, fingers tugging at his hair as she did so. "Aarav!" The noise alone is enough to make them pull away and she smiles, staring down at their hands. "You have an audition," she reminds him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. 'And as much as I want to," she whispers, "and believe me, i WANT to - we should take this slow." It's the right thing to do; it's what Diya wants because she possesses feelings for Aarav. The love kind of feelings; the shaadi kind of feelings; the grow old together kind of feelings. It would feel cheap if she allowed them to have sex just like that. This meant too much to Diya for her to squander like this.

Aarav could vaguely hear his name being called but it wasn’t nearly as pressing as giving special attention to her earlobe, especially with the way he could make her moan. These sounds were more intoxicating that any amount of alcohol he could drink. And he only wanted more of that. Except he felt her hands tug harshly on his hair, drawing his face away from hers when she said his name, rather loudly. He heard her words, the soft way she spoke them and knew she was right. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. He couldn’t just pounce on the first girl who’d decided to show him interest. Except Aarav knee very well that wasn’t why. This wasn’t any girl. This was Diya. The very Diya who’d been in a lot of his dreams and had truly awoken something he thought didn’t even exist in his chest—his heart. “You’re right, I’m sorry—I just,” he pulled away and helped her off the counter, a sheepish smile on his face as he reaches in and kisses her one more time, just for good luck.

Diya obliged for one more kiss, making sure she made as sweet and gentle as possible. Bending down, Diya offered Aarav his shirt she’d picked off the ground. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead,” she murmured, unable to help herself as she leaned in for another kiss. There was a certain euphoric high Diya had never felt before, a high that only Aarav’s lips could give her and wondered how she’d spent all those summers in Delhi with him without knowing this. In fact she found it hilarious they’d kept their relationship so pure for so many years. Not that Diya minded the defiling.

Aarav smiled at her words of encouragement before holding her hand. “That, I can only do if you’re there with me.” He knew it was silly but he wanted her to be around him all the time, afraid that if he blinked—she’d be gone. He couldn’t afford that, not when he had only just found her again. He kissed her once more, smiling as he led her to the bathroom in his room, letting her fix herself up while he waited outside, his gaze horribly moving to his bed before he glanced back up at her, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Diya had been fixing her hair in the bathroom when she caught Aarav smiling at her. She raised an eyebrow at him, jerking her chin in his direction. "Kya?" And yet, Diya knew why he was smiling; it was the same reason she'd been feeling giddy ever since their lips had met the first time. Never in a million years would Diya have imagined this to be the outcome of seeing Aarav Roy again, not that she minded; she enjoyed actually. Perhaps even more than she would care to admit. When Aarav looked at her, Diya felt like a person, like someone of WORTH. She liked that feeling; she wanted to feel like that all the time. Instead, she returned her attention to the mirror, grabbing a tissue to wipe off the remainder of the lipstick that remained on her lips, Aarav having kissed most of it off. She chuckled to herself at that, running her fingers through the tangles in her hair.

Aarav had nothing to say especially considering that right no, it was as if their eyes were doing all the talking for them. Aarav wouldn’t deny having wanted this with Diya during their summers together but he’d shunned the idea when he knew that she thought of him just as a friend, that nothing else could really come from it. But today, with the way she’d kissed him, with the way she’d allowed him to kiss her and be that close to her—it made him wonder just how wrong he’d been. He gave her another smile, watching how she wiped the lipstick off her lips before he too entered the tiny space of the bathroom and stood behind her, doing the same thing—his gaze however, remaining on her. “You’ve changed but—in a good way,” and she had grown taller too, plus her hair was longer and Aarav just wanted to replace her fingers with his own before drawing her close once more. “And I can’t wait to discover Diya Mehra all over again,” he whispered quietly, pressing his lips just behind her earlobe before he exited the small space.

Diya watched Aarav's frame disappear from the bathroom, as her hand lifted up to touch the space he'd just kissed. Perhaps it was her imagination but the area was throbbing, pulsating even, with a strange feeling Diya couldn't understand. It was this feeling however which spread through her veins, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, a tingling sensation Diya wished wasn't so fleeting. She cleared her throat then, looking back at herself in the mirror - seeing a girl she'd never seen before. She had the same eyes, the same facial structure, the same smile but she was different in all those features too. Now she looked ALIVE, almost as if she were glowing. Her cheeks flushed and Diya looked away from her own reflection, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers before tucking it behind her ear, letting her fingers trail down to the spot he had kissed, as if he had marked her. If he had, Diya didn't mind. She wanted to be his.

Aarav didn’t know what it was, but doing his audition, knowing that Diya was somewhere in the darkened auditorium—watching him, both helped ease his nerves and drive him crazy wth anxiety. She’d only seen him dance in the privacy of their homes, where it didn’t matter if his toes were pointed or what his stance was like. But here, this was where Aarav would show off his skill and prove that he deserved to be here based on his dancing abilities. Once he finished and took his bow, he quickly went to shower and change, aware that she’d be waiting for him outside. They’d celebrate even if the results wouldn’t be announced until sometime tomorrow. He had dressed in distressed jeans and a graphic t-shirt with iron man before he strode out of the changing area and found her leaning against the wall, but there was someone there with her. Someone taller, blonder and someone who was smiling at her in a way that made Aarav’s blood boil.

Diya had spent the past fifteen minutes trying to decline the persistent blonde boy's invitations for dinner, drinks and dancing. She bit down on her bottom lip, finding herself growing more and more agitated at how he wouldn't take no for an answer, her fingers curling into a small fist behind her skirt. It was only when she spotted Aarav exiting the changing area that she breathed a sigh of relief. "My friend is here," the heavy emphasis on friend suggested that Aarav was a lot MORE than a friend. The corners of her lips quirked up when the boy seemed to get the hint and left, leaving Diya free to bound over to where Aarav was and she reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. "You were so good Roy, I swear." And he had been; Diya was unable to take her eyes off of him when he performed. A feeling of pride had swelled up in her chest, so much so that she'd squinted at the people taking the audition wanting to make sure they were just as impressed. SPOILER ALERT: they were.

Aarav watched as Diya came over to him quickly enough, even though Aarav’s eyes remained on the other blonde man who seemed to have a thing for Diya. He really was going to have to fend off quite a few guys to make sure that she stayed by his side; if that’s what she too wanted. But when he noticed how their fingers were interlaced once more and how she was seemingly breathless as she told him about how amazing he was, he found his heart beating steadily once more—feeling, at home. “You, you really think so?” He gave her a small grin before shrugging. “You’re just—saying that,” he quickly retorted before she’d have the chance to add more compliments, compliments that he was sure he didn’t deserve.

Diya did not hesitate this time to whack him on the upside of his head, that too quite loudly considering the thwack echoing in the hall. "Of course I think so. Even the audition people seemed super impressed." She knew he thought poorly of himself, all because of the different things Chandini Roy had said to him. She'd only been in Delhi for two months a year, but she'd seen the things she'd say, or the way she'd behave - so often, that Diya would constantly be trying to keep Aarav at her grandmother's house for hours on end, to help him escape from that TOXICenvironment. Poor Suraj Roy, he had no idea what a bitch his wife was; in fact, Suraj Roy was mostly clueless about his youngest son's treatment, and often kept silent under Chandini's regime. He loved Aarav though, no doubt it was him who had encouraged Aarav to take the scholarship. She raised her free hand to wrap around his bicep, keeping the other hand intertwined with his as they walked out of the building. "So where do you want to go? Bahar karna hai kya dinner? Some girl was telling me about this Indo-Chinese place. Tera pata nahin, par mujhe toh momo's khane ka bahut mann kar raha hai."

Aarav only groaned loudly when he felt her whack his head. "Kya yaar, tu badi violent hai, abhi bhi..." because Aarav remembered the one time she'd done this and he'd shuddered like a baby. He'd been SO terrified of her hurting him that he'd curled into himself, only telling her a half lie about why he'd done it. But Diya hadn't relented and she'd made him tell her just why he'd cowered that way. It was easier perhaps because he'd told Rohan before and so he was finding it a lot easier to get the words out this time. Still, he hadn't missed the look of pity in her eyes when he'd told her, refusing to listen when she said he should stay over at her dadi's place. No, Aarav had been hit numerous times because of how Falak Mehra frowned upon Diya and his closeness and didn't want to make that any worse. Still, he looked at her, watching how closely she was slipping in beside him while he listened to her words, smiling as she spoke. "I think that sounds good. I could go for some spicy Manchurian," he smiled before wrinkling his nose. "Diya, I didn't--woh jo pehle--mere ghar pe hua-- you're not, I mean--you didn't mind...right?" Aarav let the words out before he could overthink them because there was a nagging fear in his chest telling him over and over that Aarav was definitely N O T who Diya wanted to be with.

Diya paused at his question, wondering why he thought she wouldn't want to be with him. She knew what his mother had said, she just never thought it would apply to her. He probably never thought this about Rohan, so why her? Hadn't she proved enough that she wanted to be with him? She tugged at his arm, forcing him to stop too before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Of course I didn't mind, you're a much better kisser than I THOUGHT." She paused, pretending to ponder some deep question before continuing, "but I mean we'll have to work on your technique a little..." At his expression, Diya giggled. The sudden urge to kiss the pout off his face was overwhelming, and yet Diya controlled it. There would be plenty of time for that, but right now - right now she wanted her friend Aarav Roy, not her possible boyfriend Aarav Roy. "So when you said Rohan is in photography, does he just take creepy photos of people or like is he actually getting a degree? India main toh photography courses bahut kam hote hai..."

Aarav only smiled when he felt her soft kiss against his cheek, that was enough for him to stop second-guessing everything with Diya. It’s just the attraction he’d carried in his heart for her, was threatening to burst out and he was terrified of it scaring her. Still he listened to her words and frowned when she spoke about his technique. But it was when she giggled that he knew she was only joking. He laughed at the question she had about Rohan especially when she knew how much sometimes she detested the other boy. “He is a full fledged photographer yaa, don’t be so mean. Plus he did take some creepy pictures of people without them knowing, you included but don’t worry—we’ve gotten rid of them.” He was kidding since they weren’t at all creepy and they weren’t of just her alone, and he hadn’t gotten rid of them. “He took a short course in Delhi and then just started with work experience, waise bhi, he likes covering shaadi’s mostly.” A fact that had actually really surprised Aarav when he’d first told him. “But so much interest in Rohan, maybe I should’ve brought him along to London, hmm?”

Diya let her jaw drop when he revealed the little tid bit of information about Rohan and her fingers tugged on the collar of his shirt. "I swear, if there are some creepy changing clothes shots in there, I'll kill him myself. I don't care that he's your best friend." She'd never liked Rohan, something about the boy rubbing her the wrong way. First there was the fact, he wasn't attracted to her at all. Or showed even the tiniest bit of interest (not that Diya was conceited) in her, or any other girl for that matter. Then there were the long, lingering looks in Aarav's direction that piqued her curioisity. It was so obvious he was hiding something and Diya intended to find out. She'd beaten the truth out of Rohan (not literally, but a few threats and a few pinches had done the trick) to find out he was struggling with his sexuality. "If you'd brought him along to London, it wouldn't be ME you would be kissing in your kitchen," she muttered, more to herself than anything else; Diya Mehra may have disliked Rohan Chopra but she wouldn't out him like this. "Maybe he's doing it because he wants to prey on the single girls who are now worried aobut their own marriage prospects!"

Aarav couldn’t help but laugh at her outburst, because Diya should’ve known that if there were any shots like that, he’d have killed the other man himself. But he didn’t say it, instead he only shook his head at Diya before kissing the top of her head. “Don’t worry, I’ve checked all the pictures and there are absolutely none. Though he does have some creepy shirtless ones of me while I’m dancing,” Aarav pretended to look thoughtful before scoffing at her words. “Oh? And what’s that supposed to mean?” He wasn’t angry, but he was a bit confused and didn’t know what Diya was hinting at. Except he allowed himself to be easily distracted when she mentioned why Rohan must’ve chosen wedding photography. “That may be right,” he chuckled before shaking his head. “Now can we stop talking about Rohan and making it seem like he’s here with us?? Waise woh ladka kaun tha?” he was clearly asking about the one just now, but it was becoming more obvious that wherever Diya went, the male gaze would no doubt follow.

Diya smiled, shutting her eyes when he kissed the top of her head. There was something just so gentle about the action, something so reassuring - Diya wanted to feel this way for as long as she lived. Her grip on his arm tightened, as her thumb began unconsciously rubbing against his skin. She looked up when he mentioned the boy and shrugged. "Some irritating person, maine itna mana kiya, par woh phir bhi-- it was only when you showed up that he finally left." She reached up on her toes, frowning at how Aarav seemed to have shoot up in the time since she'd seen him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "So I guess you could say you were my knight in shining armour," Diya murmured, feet flat on the ground once more.

Aarav didn’t miss how she’d closed her eyes with a smile when he’d kissed the top of her head, only making him realize that he’d been a fool to think that she wasn’t comfortable with how their friendship was leading into something more. But Aarav knew that he couldn’t pin any hopes on this, especially because good things in his life hardly stayed that way. Rohan had been an exception. He was finding the way she rubbed at his skin to be incredibly comforting, almost in the same way her pillow helped him sleep at night. He chuckled at her words and the way she kissed his jaw, making him wonder if she was being serious or if she was just teasing one again. “Really? Well I’m glad to be of service.” He sometimes wondered if fate had led Diya Mehra to Delhi that summer, because he’d never once before imagined having any girl, this close to him—willingly without some hidden motive.

Diya let out a soft romantic sigh at Aarav's words as they began walking on the path towards the diner she'd heard so much about. The best part was it wasn't too far from campus either, hence the walk rather than catching the Tube. A gust of wind brushed past them and Diya found herself shivering, letting go of her grip on Aarav's arm so she could wrap her arms around her middle, suddenly regretting the fact she'd worn a skirt and cami. Summer clothes? In this weather? Diya must have been insane, or asleep when she'd been getting dressed. Forget that, how could she have forgotten her coat? It was difficult to adjust to this weather, considering how it almost never got cold in Mumbai, or even in Delhi (summers were literal hell because of the heat) and she let out a shaky breath, watching the way her breath condensed in the air, making her squeal in excitement. She'd never seen anything that cool, considering she was from the TROPICS.

Aarav could see the way Diya was shivering and quickly took off his light jersey jacket and covered her shoulders with it. Considering the clothing she was wearing, he could tell that she was probably freezing. "Do you want to go back? We can get you some warmer clothes?" He frowned before looking at her and smiling, "or I mean--my gym bag probably has some clean sweats, if you want to wear that?" He knew it was a long shot, especially considering how non fashionable they were but he could see the way she was so cold and didn't want her to get sick or anything--or if she did, he definitely wouldn't mind taking care of her either. But then he heard her squeal when she caught the her breath condensating in the wind and only laughed. "You're going to get sick," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her.

Diya curled into Aarav's side when his arms wrapped around her and she shrugged. "But it's so cool!" The excitement in her voice was barely contained, and Diya wondered momentarily if she was this excited in September, what would she be like around Christmastime when it actually SNOWED? Still, she tugged the jersey jacket around herself tightly, breathing air into her hands, as she rubbed them together to keep warm. "We're almost there anyways! Ab wapas jaane ka faida nahin." Especially since Diya was sure if they went back to her place, or maybe even his - they would not be going out for dinner. She sighed, resting her head against Aarav's shoulder as they continued to walk in the direction of the restaurant. Part of Diya wondered if this was all too soon, if she was rushing into things because she was afraid of eventually ending up ALONE. But the ease they shared, the comfort that existed between them had always been there, just waiting patiently. Diya had been a fool to not realize it earlier. "Did you like me?" Her question broke the comfortable silence that had begun to shroud them. "I mean like-- pehle..."

Aarav only smiled when she expressed her excitement especially since for Aarav, it wasn't a new thing--winters in Delhi could get pretty cold sometimes. But right now, he just wanted to watch her eyes light up because of how incredibly breathtaking she looked. He smiled as they continue walking, feeling her head resting against his shoulder which completely made them look like a couple to anyone who was watching them. But he didn't care because well if Diya let them--he wanted to be a couple with her. Except he couldn't say any of this, because of how scared he was of rejection. But right now, when he'd heard her quiet question, he couldn't help but stop and just look at her before looking down at the sidewalk beneath their feet. "Honestly, I did..I just mera sab kuch jaan ke-- I really didn't think you'd want to be with me." Aarav shut his eyes before, wanting to ask the same question, except he knew about a Veer Singhania, supposedly her BESTEST friend in the world. "What about you--did you like me?"

Diya nodded, filing away this information for later. She wanted to tell him how stupid she thought he was being; she knew about his history, about his family but it didn't matter; not to Diya at least. Diya saw something different in Aarav Roy; she saw a boy who was still here in spite of what he faced; a boy who was still so bright, like the brightest star in the sky. At his question she paused, biting down on her bottom lip as she did so. They continued walking before Diya nodded. "I wouldn't have kissed you that day on nani's swing if I didn't," was her whisper as she looked at Aarav, who was busier looking at the sidewalk - something she couldn't understand. Veer had told her she was being stupid, that it was in her best interests to forget about this Aarav boy before he broke her heart the way Karan had. That was what Diya had intended to do, over the course of her degree in London. She hadn't expected Aarav to be here, leading her to believe this must be FATE.

Aarav smiled, a bit too widely when he heard Diya’s words because they acted like a soothing balm almost for him, telling him to stop holding his mothers words so close to his chest, and instead allow himself to see what the world had to discover. And Aarav was ready to seize everything with two hands if he could. Diya just truly had no idea the impact she had on his life, and that was really why he’d decided to make a scrapbook for her birthday last summer, wanting for her to see through the pictures just how deeply Aarav cared for her. He’d give it to her tonight, if they went to his place. Of course if not, then he’d give it to her tomorrow but he really wanted the moment to be private and shared by just the two of them—marking it to be special. Aarav only hoped Diya would read the unwritten words through the course of the entire scrapbook.

Diya wrapped her fingers around his bicep once more before leading him into the restaurant, not having missed the wide smile on his features when she'd given him her reasoning as to why she liked him. He must have thought her stupid if he thought she didn't like him; he must have been blind to not see her obvious interest in him. She'd been dropping signal in his direction that entire summer, but when it seemed like he didn't get the hint (or maybe he just wasn't interested) Diya had kissed him the day she was supposed to leave. It was a foolproof plan; they wouldn't see each other for another year, she had nothing to lose. If only Diya had known the impulsive kiss nearly two years ago would lead to this, she would have done it a lot sooner. Sliding into a booth, Diya waited for him to sit across from her before her hand rested on the table, palm open. It was an invitation for him to hold it, but at the same time she was trying not to make a big deal of it; instead, she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear before looking down at the menu.

Aarav wanted to tell her how much he liked the way she held him, and that's when he gently patted her hand, holding it tenderly while they walked inside. Diya led him to a booth and removed herself from his side, which actually caused a strange withdrawal to go through him which really wasn't--something he was ready to tell her yet. He didn't know how she'd react especially since technically they only met again a very short time back. But of course, if they took in to account all their old memories, he knew she'd be a little open to understanding it. He noticed her hand open and he actually quickly slid his own into her's, smiling as he squeezed it gently. "So--anything good on the menu?" The waiter only gave them one menu though, so he was going to just let Diya make the choice, not only now--but he remembered always asking her to do the same whenever they hung out somewhere in the close vicinity of their home. "Hey Diya, mujhe tujhse kehna tha.. I really, I'm glad you're still here, meri zindagi mein."

Diya twirled a piece of hair between her fingers as she read the menu. She felt Aarav's hand slide into hers, and gave a tight squeeze back, her gaze still on the menu. The waiter had taken one look at the pair of them, and obviously assumed they were some new fangled, NRIs who were open about their relationship and had only handed the one menu to them. Not that Diya minded. They would do the same thing at their booth in Haldirams' in Delhi, cozied up next to each other on one side of the booth as they argued over what they wanted from the menu - usually Diya won the argument. It was when his voice grew soft that Diya looked up, her expression softening, a tiny smile breaking out on her features. She let her free hand drop the menu before reaching for Aarav's cheek, leaning over the table between them to press a soft kiss to his lips. They were in London, they could do this here. Hell, she'd seen couples making out in the middle of the street - what she and Aarav were doing was chaste. "I told you, it would take a lot MORE than just some distance to get rid of me from your life. I meant it."

Aarav he couldn't help but feel a strange content feeling fill him when he noticed the way she looked up at him. It made him feel like maybe, he was silly in thinking that Diya was the type of person who would give up on him. But instead, he felt her reach for him and stood as well so that their lips met easily. "I know, but--you, I'm really glad you're here," he whispered before shrugging and looking up at her with a wider smile now. "I--like knowing that I won't be able to get rid of you because I don't want to." He smiled before reaching for the menu and making a face. "I can't even see anything I like. Manchurian bhi nahi hai yahaan," but he was just joking because he knew as always, Diya would end up picking the best food in the joint, somehow--she just knew what was good at different restaurants.

Diya slapped his wrist gently so he would drop the menu and grabbed it for herself. "That's why I always pick the food wherever we go. Tere chakkar main, hum bhooke reh jayenge." She looked through the menu, finger tracing the raised letters slowly before flagging down a waiter as she ordered some chowmein and momos. It wasn't like there was anything else on that menu that looked edible, and besides - Diya still hadn't gotten over her fear of spicy meals since the great food poisoning incident of '06 which meant she wouldn't be touching the Scheuzan noodles with a ten foot pole. Turning back to Aarav, she flicked her hair over her shoulder, giving him a wide smile. "So, how do you think you did at the audition? What did it feel like? To be on such a big stage? Tumhe darr nahin laga kya?"

Aarav frowned when she slapped him, because really--he was not kidding when he said she was crazy violent with him. But after the first few times, Aarav had quickly realized that she never meant to seriously harm him and that helped him immensely. Because he was always on edge whenever he caught someone's hands raised around him. But he continued watching Diya as she stared at the menu, until she placed their order, forgetting the drinks which had him frowning. "Wait yaa," he beckoned the man over and asked for a soda, which he'd definitely have to burn off tomorrow morning. "Aur tumhe? A soda or iced tea?" But when he let the waiter go, he looked back up at Diya and found himself grinning widely again. "It felt--different, but really good. I--darr pehle lagta tha, lekin ab sab cheezon se toh nahi darr sakhta na?" And she knew what that meant in regards to his life.

Diya waved the waiter off when Aarav called him back asking for Diya’s drink order, knowing full well she was going to mooch off Aarav’s soda either way. Still, she smiled when he spoke about no longer being afraid. Diya had been trying to explain that to him for so long but he had never listened to her, not properly which irked Diya to no end. “Do you drink Mountain Dew?” Diya paused, waiting for his expression to change before giggling, already amused with her own punchline, “Kyunki darr ke aage hi jeet hai.” Diya tossed her head back in laughter, her hair bouncing as she moved. Diya had cut her hair when she was fifteen, changing the length from (crazy) long to a respectable (short) length; mostly because Veer wouldn’t stop pulling at it. She clutched Aarav’s hands in hers and let out a soft sigh. “Who would have thought huh?”

Aarav only rolled his eyes when she sent the waiter away, fully aware that his soda was going to have two straws in it. Just like his mango laasi always did in Delhi. Still, he heard her question when he'd stopped talking about his fear and definitely did NOT understand what on earth Mountain Dew had to do with anything here. But when he heard her next sentence, he gave her a deadpan look because how lame could her jokes get. "You're crazy, pata hai na tujhe?" He smiled before noting her short hair and making a face. Aarav had always wished to see her with longer hair, knowing that it would only enhance her look. But when she grabbed his hands, he only shrugged and gave her another smile. "I didn't think--I'd ever see you again. Especially since when I went over to your grandma's..unhone kaha bhi tha mujhe, ke tu kabhi wapas Delhi nahi aanewali thi.. and I--" Aarav shakes his head, unable to believe he was about to make this confession, "but it really affected me more than I thought it would."

Diya sighed when he mentioned her grandmother, hating that he insisted on rehashing all of these old tales. What was Diya to do with them? They were in the PAST now, nothing could be done about that. "But we're here, now," she whispered, thumb brushing against the veins on the back of his hand as she gave him a gentle smile. "I'm here with you now, and-- this isn'tDelhi. This is London. There is no irritating, old fashioned mother, no overbearing family, no she-devil of a parent to stop us. We can just BE." Diya would never tell him but there had always been a part of her which wondered what it would be like to be with Aarav, in the physical sense. The thought had been planted in her mind since the day she'd woken up in his bed, curled up next to him, a pounding headache in the form of a raging hangover plaguing her. Her mother's words had only made her wonder what it would be like. Would he tug down the strap of her reasonably priced bra and let his lips follow the trail the bra had left? Would he kiss her so deeply, she forgot everything about herself? So many questions, so many dreams plagued her and NOW... Now, it finally felt like they would come true.

Aarav knew she didn't like him bringing up their past and quickly quieted down, not wanting to upset her. He'd only upset her once when they'd first become friends and she'd wanted to read her book and he had been bored, but now--things were different and he didn't know exactly how she'd react in her form of anger. Instead, he diverted his attention to her hands and noticed how she spoke, and knew that she was right. Because this was their present and who knew what could happen in their future. He listened to her words and shook his head, wishing he really had escaped the wrath of his mother because Aarav knew if he tried even for another year--he'd be done. He wouldn't be able to recover at all. Instead, he focused on her and knew that right now, she was A L L he needed.

Diya had literally SPRINTED from her class in the Grand Amphitheatre to one of the smaller buildings in the Southland college because she knew the results for Aarav's dance troupe auditions were coming out today. Now, he hadn't specified for her to look at them for him, but Diya knew he would be stuck in classes all day and then he would take even LONGER to find out if he'd got in. This way, Diya would know before him. She tried shoving some of the people aside to get to the billboard before pausing and letting all of them disperse (this wasn't India, she reminded herself) before getting to the front. Her finger moved along the page before she stopped at the end, spotting the AARAV ROY printed in the list of names who would be this year's new entrants into the school's prestigious dancing company. She had to tell him the good news, oh she couldn't wait longer. Diya let out a soft squeal to herself, adjusting the shoulder straps of her bag as she ran to where she knew Aarav's class would be. Chest heaving, and panting, Diya leaned against the pillar outside his classroom. She only had to wait ten minutes for his class to finish, ten minutes for her to ambush him with the news.

Aarav had been checking his phone for the last hour, just waiting to see if maybe the dance troupe team would be texting anyone the results of the audition. Because Aarav was stuck in classes all day and wouldn't get the chance to see the results until around 8:00pm tonight which was going to suck, especially if it was bad news since he knew bad news would only have him running to the nearest bar or pub to drown his sorrows. But there was NO new messages which meant he'd be stuck going there after his last class of the day. Because if he went midway through--he'd never make it back in time for his next class, since it was pretty much on the other side of campus--not to mention, if it was bad news--he wouldn't even want to attend his last class of the day. But when this class ended and he'd gathered his things to head to the next class, he spotted a very anxious looking Diya outside his classroom which had him a bit surprised since they hadn't planned to meet yet, since she had only one class and was going to be spending the day in her dorm room or the library. "Hey," he whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek, wrapping his arm around the small of her back, clearly comfortable with this level of intimacy between them.

Diya grinned up at him when his arms enveloped her. Her own arms looped around his neck comfortably as she smiled. "I have some news," she murmured, fingers trailing along his chest, tugging at the fabric of the shirt, wishing that it wasn't there. Actually, she kind of wished they were in his room, or maybe hers instead of this stupid hallway, stuck between classes. At least nobody was paying attention to them, everybody too busy in their own world. The only people who did glance their way were the ugly nerds, or maybe even some of the Indians who curled their lip in mild disgust (although Diya knew it was just jealousy). "So you know your audition right for the dance troupe..." She paused for effect, even though she knew Aarav and she knew the longer she held out on him, the more it would drive him insane. What was to say, he wasn't already half crazy from the anxiety? Diya reached up on her toes then, lips at his ear as she whispered, "You got in." A giggle. She stepped back, clapping her hands excitedly. "I told you!" It seemed like Diya was more excited about the news than Aarav, with the giddiness she felt in her veins, and the nervous energy forcing her to hop around, or even the smile on her face while she waited for him to react.

Aarav was almost nervous when he heard her quiet murmur, why was she speaking so vaguely like this? It wasn't helping his already anxious mind thanks to those audition results. but he sighed quietly, staring intently at her, actually forgetting that anyone was eve around them. But it's when he heard her words and froze. His auditions--she had news. That's what she wanted to tell him. But the solemness in her voice told him the worst--he hadn't got in. He looked down then, not wanting to see the disappointment he already was feeling reflected in her eyes. Except when he felt her lips against his ear and heard the quiet words she uttered softly, he remained stoic and frozen in spot. He...he GOT IN. He didn't care who was even watching right now, because instantly he had her up in the air as he spun her around before letting her down, his hands grabbing her shoulders, steadying her. "Tu--tu sach keh rahi hai? I really--I got in?" He couldn't believe it, well he could but--he'd been expecting the worst since early this morning and now to have that thankfully be wrong--it was a lot to take in.

Diya squealed when he lifted her up in the air to spin her, feeling the giddy feeling rise up her throat. Except this was a good feeling; it wasn't like the panic; the panic that tried to choke her. No, this was a good feeling. It warmed her heart, but more than anything it warmed her heart to see that smile Aarav wore on his face, because he wore it so LITTLE. She nodded at his question. "I'm not lying! I looked through that entire list and at the bottom in last name alphabetical order was your name Aarav! You got in!" She let out a little scream before throwing her arms around him in a hug. Somehow it felt like this had solidified their new life. It felt as if this were somebody upstairs giving them their blessing, telling Aarav and Diya they could be together, that the universe was rooting for them. It seemed like a sign, and Diya LOVED signs; meeting Aarav, all of this - it was all a giant sign. It was the universe's way of telling her she could find happiness in this.

Aarav couldn't stop the truly happy smile from erupting on his face. But he was, he really was so happy. This was his first step to making a name for himself, for becoming someone other than another little Roy who had been unwanted, who lived in the shadow of his older great siblings. This was Aarav's chance to be someone new, someone else. He smiled as she told him how she found his name and felt her arms wrap around him, his own easily slid around her waist once more, holding her tight feeling so thankful, not only that he'd gotten in to the troupe, but because she was there, and she was the one conveying this news to him. "You-thank you for coming and telling me warna soch soch ke main zaroor pagal honewala tha," he chuckled before leaning back and pecking her cheek once more, wishing he could do something more in the privacy of their own rooms.

Diya only beamed at him when he confessed to possibly going mad if he didn't find out the results of what seemed to be the most important thing happening in his life. "Pata hai, iss liye toh main gayi." Diya never thought herself to be this girl, the one she was with Aarav Roy. Sure, she had been an attentive girlfriend to Karan Randhawa but it wasn't hard to be an attentive girlfriend in high school. Her duties mostly consisted of cheering at his soccer games, being present at all the parties on his arm, and taking his side in arguments. She wasn't supposed to have an opinion of her own, not even when it came to sex. Diya swallowed at that, pushing away the negative thoughts starting to swarm over her like some dark cloud and instead nudged Aarav with her hip, "Don't you have a class?" And yet, she bit down on her bottom lip; some part of her hoped he would offer to bunk the class, to spend time with her instead.

Aarav wrinkled his nose when she spoke about why she'd gone to check for his results. It only made the warm fuzzy feeling in his heart grow even more. He pinched her cheeks lightly, smiling at her words before he heard her question and made a face. He did had a class, and it was one that he'd been told at the beginning of the semester that he should not be missing it. But today, today deserved a proper celebration, didn't it? He shook his head then, taking her arm and pulling it through so their arms were both linked. "I do but, one missed lecture won't put me back," and that was true. Aarav was pretty good when it came to studying and looking over other people's notes, he assumed it was because he'd always been left to his books and homework rather than many toys or outings. Still, he looked at her, almost expectantly when he raised his eyebrows. "What about you? Any plans Miss. Mehra? Or are you free to celebrate with your old friend?"

Diya whined when he pinched her cheeks. He'd done that back in Delhi, the summer she'd been forced to eat by her grandmother because the woman thought she had gotten too skinny. If only her grandmother knew there was no such thing as being too skinny, especially not in high school. He'd spent all summer pinching her cheeks, and pulling at them, calling her a laddoo. Diya had gotten her revenge of course, by stealing all of his laddoos when he came over to her house, because by the logic he called her a laddoo - it meant she could claim ownership to all the sweets in the world. She only grinned when he suggested skipping his class, wondering not for the first time if he could read minds, because he had certainly said exactly what she WANTED. Linking her arm with Aarav's, Diya began leading him to the direction of her building. "Oh I have plans all right."

Aarav only laughed when she whined because he knew what she remembered whenever he pinched her cheeks but for him, it reminded him that he could do this, he was her friend and while he may not have known her for years like some of her other friends did, he still shared his own special relationship with her. He felt her link their arms together again and raised his eyebrow at her words, especially considering where she was leading him. He'd been to her place only once, and that had been to pick her up. But tonight--he'd planned on giving her the very late birthday gift he'd made, one that told her just how important she'd been in his life back then and still was. He just wondered about these so called plans she had. "And are you planning on telling me these plans? Ya mujhe suspense mein rakhne wali ho?"

Diya only rolled her eyes. It was like amateur hour up here, especially since Aarav thought she would reveal her grand plans to him. No she wouldn't, especially since she wasn't exactly SURE what her grand plans were. She just wanted to escape from the college for a little while, from real life, from responsibilities and get lost in Aarav. "Well," she started when the elevator indicated their floor, "my flatmate is out of town for the whole week..." She didn't say anything beyond that, her hand firmly clutched in Aarav's as she led him towards the end of the hallway where her house was, swiping the keycard as she pushed the door open. It was only when they were both inside, the door shut that Diya pressed her lips to his, reaching up on her toes just the slightest as she did so. "Congratulations Mr. Dancer," she murmured against his lips, a small smile settling on hers as she let her feet rest on the ground again.

Aarav had a lot of patience instilled in him, it came from the years of not understanding the abuse he was given and forced to tolerate. And so even as she led him to her place, he waited for her to say something at least, but she didn't and so he shrugged, assuming that perhaps she would tell him when they were entirely alone. When they both ended up on her floor, he only smiled at her words, before letting her lead him to her place, a very wide smile though. He knew what she was hinting towards now and while he liked that idea, he knew she'd be mad at him for interrupting her plans with his own. The door closed behind them both when she pressed her lips against his and he found himself grinning against her lips, thanks to her adorable words before he watched her slip down slightly back to the ground. "Thank you again," he whispered before pulling slightly away, opening up his messenger bag and digging out a rectangle box. "I have something for you. I mean--I was going to give this to you that summer--but you didn't come so this is a very late present."

Diya had been about to lead him towards her bedroom when he'd stopped her with the box he handed to her. "Present?" There was an excited note to her voice, eyes wild, grin wide. "Mere liye hain?" She tucked it under her arm before leading him towards her bedroom so they wouldn't be bothered. When he'd come to pick her up he'd only seen the living room, so this would be the first time he would see her bedroom. On the bed with her pillows (yes plural) was the stuffed elephant he'd won for her at Pragati Maidan when they had some random mela. Above her bed were polaroids upon polaroids, some with her friends from Mumbai, some with her family, some with Veer but mostly importantly some with Aarav - and some of Aarav. Pictures she'd snapped when he hadn't been looking, it was only when he heard the whirring of the device that he'd protested and by then, Diya would have climbed up onto a table with the photo raised above her head so he wouldn't steal it. She took a seat on the bed, cross legged as she undid the wrapping paper to reveal a scrapbook. Her head lifted from where she had been staring at it, her mouth forming a little o. "Tumne banayi yeh? Mere liye?"

Aarav couldn't hide the smile on his face at the childish tone that had taken over his Diya, it made him see her in an even more endearing way, which really he hadn't expected. Still, he went with her to her bedroom, taking it all in while her eyes remained on the wrapped box. He noticed the pillow he'd--gotten for her and looked up at her, the same awed expression on his face that she'd had when she'd seen the heart pillow on his bed. "See, I didn't expect for you to keep this," he whispered before noting all the pictures she'd had up on her wall already. He'd expected to see most pictures of Veer and while that was true, there were some of him too, with her and alone which had him smiling, making him believe that just like he'd not forgotten her--she'd never let herself forget him either. Once she was sitting on her bed, he leaned against the wall, watching her excitement. "Haan, I mean--I put the pictures and everything together, lekin pictures Rohan ne chori chupe keechi hai, so if you hate it--I'm blaming him for the whole thing." He smiled before watching eagerly as she opened it up.

Diya nodded, the smile still present on her face. However, her gaze fell back to the stuffed elephant he'd mentioned her keeping and shrugged. "Don't call Ms. Motu a this. Her feelings will get hurt." She opened the scrapbook then, her gaze falling on the first photo, and the only photo on the first page. It was a picture of just her, one she hadn't even realized had been taken. It was on the swing in her nani's house, she was reading Cujo by Stephen King, biting her thumb with her free hand. Diya remembered how for a week when she and Aarav would walk to Connaught Place from Hailey Road, she'd clutch his arm whenever they passed a dog, or any other stray animal. She flipped the page to a different photo, one where Aarav was trying to teach her how to dance, and she'd stepped on his foot instead. The expression of pain on his face had been brief, but it had been there - apparently Rohan had caught it. She let her fingers brush against his face in the photo and chuckled. "You said it didn't hurt," Diya murmured, remembering how he had consistently reassured her that he wasn't hurt even when she continuously apologized.

Aarav was watching her while she was watching the first photo, his favorite one in the whole book. She'd looked so intent as she read, the way she was completely immersed in the book, the way her one hand was up, thumbing her lip gently. Aarav could still remember that day so clearly, and of course the following days after that, which was when he'd told her to stop reading the books that she knew would terrify her. When she glanced up at him, murmuring quietly as she'd already turned the page, he leaned over to see which photograph it was and chuckled quietly. "Arre, it just caught me by surprise, otherwise I told you--I know how to protect my feet." he gave her a tiny pout so she wouldn't think he was lying, but truthfully, he remembered being just stunned by it before shaking it off and getting back into the groove.

Diya pattted the spot beside her, feeling strange that he was standing while she sat. This book was as much a testament to HIS memories as it was to hers. She flipped the page then, laughing at the photo she came across. It had been at her nani's birthday party when Diya had smeared Aarav's face with cake. Thankfully, Rohan hadn't captured the shot when he'd gotten his revenge by smearing the icing all over her nose. What Diya hadn't realized was the way both her grandmother and Aarav's mother had been watching this exchange, before sharing glances over Falak Mehra's head. They'd disappeared after that, choosing to head to the swing in the backyard. In fact, Diya would go as far as to say - it was THEIR spot. She nudged him with her shoulder, pointing down at the photo. "Chocolate tumpe suit karta hai." A giggle. The next photo was another memory, and so was the next and it was then Diya realized what this gift was. It was all the things he liked about her; maybe he didn't know it, but this scrapbook laid down Aarav's feelings. It was straightforward, it demanded Diya's attention; it demanded Diya's heart.

Aarav took a seat next to her when she basically demanded it from him. He was watching her more than the actual scrapbook just because it was in these little moments where the memories they shared, were coming alive and he wanted to see just how much she valued them. But so far--Diya was just--Diya, the way he remembered, the way he admired. He laughed at her words before shaking his head, "I know, it makes me look rather delectable no?" Except he remembered how his brother's dog had almost ATTACKED him because of the smell, and even then--Jai had chosen to yell at him accusing him of trying to poison his dog since chocolate was always bad for them. It hadn't been a good night for Aarav when he'd returned home..but he ushed those thoughts away, watching as she flipped thorugh the pages, wondering if she was understanding his unspoken confession through it all.

Diya closed the book again, her heart heavy with some EMOTION. She let out a shaky breath, turning to look at Aarav. The question was there in her eyes, the question she was afraid to ask: do you love me? Diya may not have known much but she did know the feeling in her chest wasn't any ordinary feeling; no, this feeling was different. It was discernable, and it was insistent. It demanded to be FELT. She didn't care what Veer had told her; he'd thought she was making a fool of herself, telling her Aarav Roy obviously thought of her as a good summer fling; Veer was wrong, he didn't know Aarav the way Diya did. She stared down at the scrapbook again, jaw wobbling before looking up at him, meeting his gaze. The question remained in her eyes, but instead of waiting for an answer, Diya only reached forward, hand resting on his cheek as she caught his lips in a kiss.

Aarav was scared now to look at her when she finally shut the book, the last picture is one where he'd been caught by Rohan, that very last summer--just staring at her, his every emotion--C L E A R in his eyes. But when she turned to look at him, he couldn't help but raise his own gaze to meet hers. He could read the question and he knew his answer but he was so scared of saying it out loud and then having her laugh in his face or reject him. Okay, so Diya would not laugh, she cared about him and he knew that, but she'd reject him. Because Aarav Roy was good to have as a friend maybe, but anything more--nobody would want to be stuck with him like that. He looked away then, his eyes petrified of betraying his heart and telling her everything it was desperate to say. Only before he could say something and stand up he felt her lips against his, her hand grazing his cheek ever so softly. He pulled back moments later, a soft nod--answering her question because he couldn't say the words, not yet. And now she was free to react however she wanted. If she told him to get out, Aarav would--but he'd take the scrapbook with him because that book, those pictures--they held his soul in them and he couldn't--lose that, not when it had been Diya that had helped him gain the strength to break out of the hellhole he'd been stuck in for eighteen years of his life.

Diya gasped, the sound almost inaudible; he'd nodded. He felt the same way about her. Her hand reached out for his then, grabbing it as she held it down on the bed so he had no choice but to remain seated. "Kabse?" Diya was almost afraid to raise her voice, afraid that it would ruin whatever was between them. Of all things, she hadn't expected for him to nod, for him to agree about his love for her. That had not been part of the plan. People didn't fall IN LOVE with Diya Mehra; they only used her. They used her for her mother's fame, for her money, sometimes for her popularity, and occasionally for her body - Karan certainly had. She'd only found out later, he was also sleeping with the juniors behind her back, deciding that one girl wasn't enough for him. So to know that Aarav Roy loves her, Diya was hesitant; she was terrified that he would take those words back. "Main bhi," she mumbled, looking down at the comforter they were sitting on, picking at its threads quietly.

Aarav had been so scared when she'd gasped because it almost made him wonder if she--detested the idea of him being in love with her. Except when she held his hand and pushed it into the bed, making sure he remained there with her--he knew she didn't hate what he'd said, or--hadn't said yet. But he heard her quiet question and only shrugged, giving her another one of those crooked sheepish smiles, "I don't even know the exact moment, lekin tune dekha na--sab pictures mein-- I guess somehow during our summers together, I found myself wishing for more. Don't get me wrong, I love our friendship, I love knowing you--accept me for, well, who I am and all the baggage I travel with, but more than that--you, you care about me, and you're so honest and so kind and you were one of the few people who helped me learn that whatever my life was in Delhi--wasn't the end all," he whispered before shaking his head, surprised that he'd rambled on especially when he knew she could STILL reject him at any given moment. But before his mind even thought up the ways she'd do that, he heard her quiet main bhi. There was no way Diya really felt the same--was there? He couldn't believe it and gently tugged on her chin with his free hand, causing her to look back up at him, his eyes questioning her's, making sure he'd heard her correctly. "Tu--bhi? Kabse..?" He knew the kiss that summer had to have been the moment and still, he wanted to hear it from her. He wanted to know exactly when or even how she'd figured out that she'd been in love with him.

Diya opened her eyes when he forced her to look up at him, and swallowed the lump gathering in her throat. She knew she had to tell him, despite having only grappled with this thought for the past month. "Do you remember when we got drunk off your dad's finest whiskey? I don't... I don't remember much of that night, but I remember..." She paused, feeling her throat dry up, as if it were trying to protect her from getting hurt. You know, just in case Aarav would end up breaking her HEART. She couldn't think like this; she needed to think positively. The words he said, the emotion with which he spoke them - that couldn't be faked. The love in his eyes, that couldn't be faked either. "But I have this hazy memory of you kissing my forehead, tucking me in. And then when I woke up in your arms, it just felt so R I G H T." Diya shrugged then, staring down at her hands. "I knew I just had to kiss you that day, to confirm my own feelings. To make sure that I wasn't making it up in my head." She met his gaze once more, testing out a small smile. "I know now, it's real. I--I think I love you Aarav Roy..."

Aarav was stunned when he listened to Diya speak about the night they'd both gotten drunk. Because that memory was the only one there were no pictures of in the book and yet it had been one of the most substantial ones according to Aarav.He listened as she continued speaking about what exactly it was that she recalled. Yet, when she spoke about the kiss he'd given her on a whim--his heart soared. She had been hazy but she still remembered all of that. He watched her eyes dart down before explaining why she'd kissed him that day before she'd left and finally when she looked back up at him and said that word--he couldn't hold himself back anymore. "I love you too Diya Mehra," he whispered before tenderly cupping her face and drawing her closer. He kissed her with everything inside of him even though it was an extremely tender soft kiss; he just wanted to tell her every emotion that was swimming inside his chest right now. Only when they parted for air did he make his confession. "That night, my tucking you in and kissing you--it was one of the first moments where I felt like I could because you felt like...my responsibility, someone I wanted to care for..someone I believed I could care for."

Diya had never been the way Aarav was kissing her right now; he cupped her cheek gently, holding her as if she were something fragile; almost as if she were something close to his heart. Diya LIKED that feeling; she liked feeling wanted, needed, important. Even if it meant she were a little vulnerable. Diya didn't mind, not when she knew Aarav would never hurt her. If there was only a single thing she knew about Aarav Roy, it was he wouldn't hurt her. She hadn't trusted anybody like this before, which was exactly how she knew it was important; how it mattered. Diya smiled at his confession then, her own hand lifting to his cheek as she allowed her thumb to brush along his cheekbone, a meek smile on her features. There weren't enough words in the WORLD to express how she felt. There weren't enough hours in the world that would give her enough time to put into sentences how she felt around Aarav Roy, how the words he spoke awoke something in her chest she couldn't exactly explain. "We'll look after each other," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him softly again.

Aarav didn't know how to express the strange dhak dhak dhak that was his heartbeat right now. Normally around Diya, he'd be content and so calm but right now, his heart was ERRATIC. If he had to guess, Aarav figured it was due to the confessions they'd both made just now. Because he'd never expected this to happen, not ever. He'd wanted it, oh he had certainly dreamed about it enough times, but to know she was here in front of him, to know that she wanted this relationship, that she too loved him with the same craziness that he loved her--it was all too good to be true. He smiled when he felt her fingers along his cheek, finding himself leaning into her soft touch before he nodded. "I like that," he whispered against her lips before kissing her again. They were in her bedroom and so while normal guys his age would be eager to get things moving along, for Aarav--perhaps it was his inexperience, but he wanted it to be slow--slow and steady because that's how he truly felt with Diya, everything seemed to be comforting and steadying for his rocky past--and he loved her for it.

Diya smiled against his lips, allowing herself to be pulled closer to him as her arm wrapped around her waist. He clutched her so tightly, Diya wondered if he thought she would disappear if he let go. She wanted to reassure him she wouldn't; she wanted to tell him, nothing he did would ever keep her AWAY from him. She loved him; she loved him in a way that didn't fade so easily. She wouldn't let this fade so easily; she would keep it in her heart forever. Now that she had Aarav, Diya didn't want anybody else. She would never want anybody else; in this kiss, and the consecutive ones Diya Mehra realized, this was the boy she wanted to marry. If her mother protested, Diya didn't care. She didn't control her. If her father had left her mother, it was Falak Mehra's fault - it in no way meant, DIya would suffer the same fate. Her arms looped around his neck as she fell towards the bed, giggling.

Aarav couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when she pulled him down towards the bed, thanks to her grip around his neck. He LOVED this woman. And he had since a very long time ago. It had just taken him a long while to get over all the insecurities that were still grasping him by the throat. There were still so many nights that Aarav woke up in a sweat, reminded of the lashes he now had as scars on his back. All scars that he was terrified to let anyone see--including Diya. She may have known about his past, the things he'd told her but seeing it would be different, and he didn't want that to terrify her. Instead, though, he simply kissed her again, wrinkling his nose as he asked quietly. "So are these the big plans you have for tonight?"

Diya looked up from where she lay on the bed, and let out another giggle at the way he wrinkled his nose. "Well they were," she murmured, running her hands along his chest, feeling the taut muscle through the taut fabric of his shirt and only clutched him closer to her, fingers wrapping around the edge of his shirt. "But if you want to do something else..." She had no idea how experienced Aarav was, how far he'd gone with a girl and Diya didn't want to pressurize him into anything. She remembered talking to Khushi about it once, after Veer had confessed he'd lost his virginity to his then girlfriend Khushi Patel. The words Khushi spoke had haunted her since: they're boys, that's all they want. some of them just need a little push. The wink her friend had given her was obvious in its tell that she'd given Veer a little PUSH. Diya remembered swallowing her comments about consent, because nobody knew about Karan; nobody knew what Karan had made her do. Instead, she only gave him a small smile, brushing away the hair that fell in his face. "I don't want to screw this up." Just like I screw everything else up...

Aarav only gave her a soft smile when she spoke about wanting to do something else. With the way her hand was trailing up his chest, the way she was gripping at his shirt--he could tell where her thoughts were headed and while ordinarily, he'd want to, especially since he'd never experienced this before, any of it...this was Diya and he didn't want to make a mess of things. He was scared of what she'd say when she saw his scars, or of how BAD he was at everything. Instead, he simply looked at her, smiling when she brushed away his hair and said the same thing he'd been thinking just moments earlier. "Me neither," he whispered before leaning in and pressing his lips against her nose, smiling at how both of them were okay with taking a slower pace with this whole thing, their budding relationship. "I don't think you ever could," he whispered though before smiling and closing his eyes for a second. "Because I--I've never.." and he trailed off, not quite ready to say the words yet.

Diya listened, patient in her stance at the way Aarav struggled to get the words out. She'd come across this many times before in her friendship with the boy. It hadn't been as obvious in the start, but the closer they got, the more questions she asked about his family, about how he seemed to flinch any time somebody raised their voice, or raised a hand - Diya wondered how she hadn't seen it before. She'd been careful around him then, trying not to visibly shake him; she'd toned down her physical violence, and even worked to keeping her voice soft which came in handy when they argued. Not that they ever argued that much. In the past three summers, Diya could count their arguments on one hand. She sighed, tugging Aarav down so he was laying beside her and turned on her side, supporting herself with her elbow, hand tucked under her cheek. Her free hand reached for his as she brushed her thumb against the back of his hand. "That's okay," she whispered, "I don't mind. Main bhi kaunsi itni experienced hoon."

Aarav found himself smiling when he felt her pull him down so now he was laying flat on the bed, his eyes looking up at the ceiling while she stared at him. He loved knowing that she actually liked staring at him. It made him feel rather--desired. Of course, along with that desire, came his own love and WANT for her. But Aarav was still worried, he was still scared at how--quickly her desire would change when she saw how visibly ugly he was. He let his eyes shut as he spoke with a tired voice. "I know, but I--it's not just about..um, experience," he sighed before looking up at her, almost ashamed at what he was about to confess to her. "I know you've--you've seen me without a shirt but," he smiled and shook his head. "The front isn't so bad, isiliye dance mein bhi hojata hai, but the back..I've got a lot of scars..." and yet he didn't say what he got them from because Diya would know, judging from his past--she would definitely know.

Diya furrowed her eyebrows at the way his voice grew softer and she wondered what could be SO serious he had now adopted the solemn look on his face. The one she'd seen moments before, where his eyes crinkled as he smiled and when he smiled... God, Diya couldn't explain that feeling even if she wanted to. She wouldn't able to explain how it felt like she was looking at the sun itself when he smiled, forcing light into every darkened corner of her heart. At his confession however, Diya's own expression grew solemn and she only shuffled closer to him, lifting his arm and sliding underneath it. Her hand rested on his chest, tracing tiny hearts with her finger. "I don't care," she murmured, repeating the words she'd said so often. "I don't care that you have scars, they aren't WHO you are. I know who you are Aarav Roy, and you're a lot more than those scars, or the hatred your family gave you... So much more."

Aarav had a very sad expression on his face, he was sure of it until he felt her take his arm and slide underneath it to get so close to him. He loved it. He hadn't said it yet, but he really loved everything about her. He smiled when he felt her fingers against his chest, noting the way she was drawing something there. He listened though, to the words he'd heard before. Of course in their past, she'd said them in a very different way--because this intimacy wasn't there before and now things were very different. "I know--" he whispered quietly before pressing his lips against her forehead. "I just--before this got further, I wanted you to know everything. You already know MORE than pretty much anyone, and I didn't want--this to be what scares you. You--you understand right? It's not that I don't trust you to be able to deal with it--but I just, I'm so--I guess I'm just ashamed." And Aarav retracted his hand from her, choosing to sit up on her bed, his face hidden by his hands as he continued to sit there.

Diya bit back the grumble when he removed his arms from her and sat up, choosing instead to hide his face rather than talk to her. She stared down up at the ceiling, wondering why Aarav Roy didn't believe her. If anything, she was the one who should have been ashamed. Terrible as his family was, at least they were still there - at least they hadn't left him. Diya knew things even Aarav didn't, and she knew that Suraj Roy loved his youngest son the MOST out of all three of his children, a fact Chandini Roy couldn't stand. She also knew Anisha Roy cared for her youngest brother, and what Aarav didn't know was how on occasion she would deflect some of Chandini's anger onto herself, so Aarav wouldn't be the woman he called his mother's personal punching bag. Not like her; her mother was always too busy for her; Diya was closer to her ayah's than her mother; her father had walked out on Diya and her mother when Diya was ten; he wanted no contact with Falak (which Diya understood) but he also wanted nothing to do with Diya. She was the one who had been A B A N D O N E D. Still, Diya shoved those thoughts away. This wasn't about her; this was about Aarav. She could keep this in her chest till the day she died, but she didn't want Aarav to feel this way about himself. Not when she really saw him. She sat up, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as she rested her head on his shoulder too. "You shouldn't be ashamed. It's not your fault. It's never been your fault. You know that na?"

Aarav knew he shouldn't have done that, he shouldn't have pulled away this much from her but he was really just so scared of what she was seeing him as right now. He knew he wasn't as bad as he was making himself seem, and Diya was right--he really wasn't at all defined by whatever he'd been told since a young age. But how was he supposed to rid himself of those thoughts? They continued to plague him even at night, making it virtually impossible for him to even step out of the horrible web he was stuck in. But right now, he turned back to her, loving how she was being so close to him DESPITE him pushing her away. "I do, I know that..but--" Aarav shook his head, turning back to her, this time slipping his arms around her waist so he could draw her into his lap, his own chin resting now on her shoulder. "I want to let you in completely," he whispered before looking up at her, "I--before we go further, I think you should see the scars," he whispered, a bit hesitant about what was going on.

Diya felt her eyes widen at the words he spoke. "A-are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to show me, Aarav." She wasn't afraid, she was worried. She was worried that this beautiful boy in front of her would run the second he showed her his scars. She didn't want him to run. She wanted him to stay here, in her arms; she could keep him safe; in her arms, where she could give him more than enough love to last a LIFETIME. Still, Diya swallowed and nodded. She shuffled back slightly as Aarav took off his shirt, turning his back to her. Diya's hand raised, hiding the way her jaw had dropped. Lashes; scars; countless scars; they overlapped one another; some looking as though they'd been forced to heal; others so gruesome, Diya wondered what parent could do this to a child. Her hand reached forward, shaky in its trajectory as she placed her palm against the largest one she could see. She kept her hand there before leaning her head forward too. Her hair brushed against his back before she pressed a kiss to the tiniest one on his shoulder blade. Diya hoped it would tell him the words she thought would ruin the moment; she hoped he would understand, she didn't care. She would love him all the same, scars and all.

Aarav nodded even though he knew she wasn't sure about him seeing everything. But he wanted her to know. He needed her to know. Aarav smiled at her for a second, before he stood from the bed and stripped off his shirt, holding it in his hand before he turning around, shutting his eyes before he sat back down so that she could see everything that he'd kept hidden from the beginning of their friendship. Aarav had only seen a few, from his reflection in the mirror but he knew what the doctor who'd come to see him and said when he'd had bleeding so badly one time that he needed actual medical attention. But now he was waiting for some reaction, any reaction from Diya. It was a little later that he felt her palm against his back, a cooling touch to the heat he was feeling right now. He was--thankful because she was touching him, she wasn't running away in disgust. But before Aarav could turn and check her face to gauge how she was really feeling but instead he felt her soft lips against his back, and actually found himself sighing very loudly because truly--now he wasn't scared at all. He had no fear left now that he felt her lips, her hands still reaching out to touch him even though he was baring EVERYTHING to her.

Diya smiled when she saw the way his shoulders slouched, the obvious relief flooding through him; the same relief that flooded through hers to know he was away from that family. Relieved to know that they wouldn't be able to hurt him, not anymore. She pressed her lips to another scar, then another scar before she reached forward, her hair falling onto his chest as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "I love you," she murmured, her hands reaching forward to hold his. "I'm not going to leave." She wouldn't; Diya only hoped the same would apply to Aarav. She hoped he wouldn't leave her either. She didn't know what she would do if he weren't in her life. She didn't know if there was anything she could. It was with that thought, Diya tugged Aarav back down so he was laying on the bed with her as they both looked to the ceiling, Diya twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. She turned to look at him then, the words heavy on her tongue. "Just don't ─ don't break my heart okay?" Her voice was soft, scared even as she avoided Aarav's eyes.

Aarav was so relaxed with the way Diya had reacted, because truly--he'd been P E T R I F I E D this entire time. But now, he knew she wasn't scared, she wasn't leaving him because of something he had no control over. Aarav had learned after a long time that perhaps when Jai beat him up, or when Chandini did, it wasn't entirely his fault--and really because they had their own personal demons to fight with. But when he heard her quiet confession once more he couldn't help but turn around and look at her. "I love you too, so much," he murmured before looking at her in shock because of how she'd dragged him back down. Aarav was about to make some joke about how he was already shirtless which was what she liked but before he could--he froze at her words. He could never ever break her heart...how could he when he was incredibly lucky to have her heart in the first place. "Never," he told her earnestly before leaning in to press his lips against her forehead. "Never ever."

Diya shut her eyes when he pressed his lips to her forehead, and a small smile breaks out on her features. Just hearing him say the words is enough for her; it is enough to reassure her of the things she most fears. She doesn't know much, perhaps she doesn't know beyond this week, and the week after this, and the exam she has coming up in her Intro to Screen Acting class - but if there's a sense of long term, it comes from Aarav. It comes from the promise he has made to her, the one of never leaving her. She hopes he knows she will hold him to it. She will hold him to it because Diya considers him her own and if she does not have expectations from her own people, then who can she execute this right upon? Instead she turns in his grip, resting her head on his bare chest so her hair spreads across the skin - almost like inky trails mapped along his chest. "I have a monologue for my Acting class exam, and I'm supposed to practice tomorrow... Do you want to come watch me practice?"

Aarav knows how big it is, for him to say those words--especially when he wasn't sure it was something Diya felt as well. After all, she'd left that summer and she hadn't come back--but none of that matters. Aarav truly knows that Diya still kept him alive in her memories and that meant more to him than anything else. She may not have said the same words back, but Aarav trusted her not to break his heart, especially not after he'd shown her every broken part of himself. He shifts slightly to make her more comfortable when he felt her hair tickling his chest, he only smiled before looking at her. "I would love to," he whispered, knowing this was their progression. These steady actions by both of them were solidifying their positions in both their lives. "How many pages is your monologue?"

Diya raises her eyes to meet Aarav's from where he was looking down at her. She's playing with her hair, twisting it between her fingers as she hums out something noncommittal. "It's a page and a half, I did it last year for the school play. But then somebody said, that doing classic play monologues isn't reccomended because then everyone thinks of you as a high school kid, so i spent like TWO HOURS searching for a different one." She's rambling, Diya knows she's rambling but doens't find it in herself to care. Aarav doesn't mind when she rambles (or at least she thinks he doesn't), and besides if he wants to date her - this is just something he'll have to get used to. It's something Diya does more often than not, and to this day she hasn't met anybody who can tolerate it. She thought her best friend Veer could, but a fated night with him and tequila told her otherwise. She learned some UNPLEASANT truths that day, truths she is in no mood to reiterate; especially since they tear her down in a way nothing else can. She sighs instead, shutting her eyes as she times her breaths to the rhythm of Aarav's heartbeat. Comfortable. She's at peace here.

Aarav is glad when she raises her eyes to meet his, mainly because it makes him glad to see that genuine happiness in her eyes. He listens to her words and finds himself more and more intrigued by how passionate she was about her acting, and how badly she wanted to prove herself. "Two hours?" He laughed before shaking his head. "If it was me, it'd have to be Hamlet, and while yes--that's pretty classic, it's one I find passionate enough." But Aarav knew his love for theater was limited to dance performances, so the acting and monologue love would always be Diya's. "So, itna sab toh bataya tumne, but tell me, what did you end up picking?" He asks quietly, even when she ends up shutting her eyes and resting her head against his chest. He wants her to practice it on him, he decides--wants to see her in action, the way she got to see him dancing when they were younger--rather than just see her tomorrow in front of the other people who would be watching her as well.

Diya laughs when he tells her he would do Hamlet. "Haan, that's what I mean na. Everyone EXPECTS you to do Hamlet, and that's fine if you're doing some high school audition. But this-- yeh college hain, aur woh bhi acting college... Yahan pe Hamlet nahin chalega." She sighs then, sitting up in the bed, legs crossed as she stares at her hands. "I chose a monologue from Dream Girl by Elmer Rice." Diya likes the monologue, she likes the character of Georgie. In some ways, Diya feels like Georgie. Georgie has flights of fancy, as does Diya. She has the tendency to get lost in her daydreams, and while Diya may not intend to daydream - back in Mumbai, she used to. She once dreamt of a life where her mother wasn't absent, a life where her father never left: a life where she was loved. A life where her parents came to events in school, a life where she was just normal. Not the daughter of actress Falak Mehra, but just Diya Mehra. Diya looks up at Aarav then, eyebrow raised. "Do you want to see?"

Aarav pouted at her before laughing as well, because well--they both knew Aarav wasn't going to be auditioning for any plays anytime soon. But Aarav sighed when she pulls away from him, sitting up with her and watching the way she was reacting. He listens as she tells him what she chose to use as her monologue and while Aarav had only heard the name once, never having known anything of the play, he couldn't really give her a proper reaction. But considering how she was looking almost--listless, his heart was aching to fix it. He wanted to encourage her, the same way she had done for him during his dance troupe audition. "Of course I want to see!" He smiled before taking her hands in his and squeezing them gently. "Go on, tell me," he whispered quietly, urging her on.

Diya smiles when he squeezes her hands, and her chest tingles when he speaks in that soft voice of his. She wonders if he knows the kind of power he commands, even with that whisper; even with that whisper, all of Diya's attention is already on him. She nods, clearing her throat. She's been practicing this monologue for days in this room now, she probably sounds like a crazy person to her flatmate, but at least the girl is gone now. Diya envies her, at least int he sense she can go home whenever she wishes. If Diya wants to go home, she has to take a ten hour flight. Still, her back straightens as she reminds herself of the opening lines. When she speaks, her voice is loud and it echoes in the room. She continues the monologue, pausing in the right parts before falling back into the bed when she's done. "And SCENE!" Diya giggles at that, before rolling to lay on her stomach as she rests her chin in her palm, raising an eyebrow at Aarav, wanting to know how he thinks that went.

Aarav continued listening as Diya went on and on, and he was captivated. There was no other way to describe how enamored he felt with this woman in front of him as she spoke, as she went on and made him truly FEEL everything that she was saying in that monologue. Aarav remembered asking back when they were younger in Delhi, what it was Diya wanted to do, because Aarav--he just wanted to get away from Delhi--but she didn't have any answers about her future. But now, he could clearly see what her passion was, and what exactly it was that she was going to EXCEL at. "You--were amazing," he whispered when he caught the way she was looking at him, waiting to know his verdict, but Aarav had been quiet because she was amazing, she was completely in character, and so perfectly natural. "I don't even think anyone can match up to you," he whispered before reaching forward to peck her lips quickly, feeling incredibly so proud of her.

Diya can't help the grin that breaks out on her features when he compliments her, a grin that grows even larger when he pecks her very quickly on the lips. Immediately, it's as if a giant weight has suddenly been lifted off her shoulders; she feels like her life is complete. She feels as if she has to stay in this space with him forever, she will not mind. In fact, this small bedroom and his hands in hers, his lips against hers is starting to feel like a version of Diya's PARADISE. A place where she is loved, somewhere she is mattered. "So what you're saying is... I'm going to get a hundred percent on this exam?" Her voice raises towards the end of her question, and she arches an eyebrow at him; almost as if she is demanding for him to refute her; almost as if she's expecting him to pull away the compliment as quickly as he has given it. Diya remembers when she'd gotten the acceptance; the way her mother had blinked twice at her; as if she couldn't believe her daughter even knew how to ACT. Diya wanted to say it then, she wanted to tell Falak Mehra how she knew absolutely nothing about her daughter, but she had remained quiet. She'd consoled herself with the thought she would be free soon enough, and now that soon enough is here - Diya knows it to be true.

Aarav couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when she asked if she was going to get one hundred percent, because really--how could she even doubt her skill at all? "Without a doubt," he murmured, "unless they just don't know how to judge acting--phir pata nahi." But Aarav had been teasing because he knew that there was no possible way that Diya wasn't going to do well. The passion and RAW emotion he found in her voice wasn't fake, it was pure and it was filled with determination. Aarav knew that determination well, seeing as he caught flakes of it in his own reflection sometimes. But Diya, she was proving herself, and she was striving towards something that would no doubt pay off for her. "So--when you're a big hot shot actress, what's the first thing you're going to spoil yourself with?" The real question was how she'd remember the little people but he didn't think she'd take it too kindly and so he reworded it entirely.

Diya looks up at the question he's asking and she places a finger to her chin, tapping the spot as if deep in thought. She's making a caricature of the moment as if she's still acting and then shrugs. Her hands reach for his again as she intertwines their fingers and says, "I'm going to buy us a house." Perhaps she's moving too soon, perhaps she shouldn't be saying things like this but Diya is eighteen and she's found a boy she can say she wants to marry, a boy she wants to spend the rest of her life with. If she's doing anything at all, she's telling the truth. Or at least, HER truth. Maybe Aarav doesn't agree with her, Diya doesn't know but what she does know is when she shuts her eyes, she sees Aarav. When she thinks of someplace she is safe, someplace she is loved: she thinks of Aarav.

Aarav hadn't known what he was expecting, but that answer--certainly hadn't been it. But instead of being scared about how QUICK she was moving, he found himself beaming at her because she wanted them to last together even when she turned into a big actress...and to Aarav, that spoke VOLUMES about what she wanted from this relationship. He was thrilled and truly, he didn't think words could show her just how much he appreciated it. "Aur kahaan hoga--humara ghar?" He smiled before reaching for her hand and tugging her even closer so that she'd fall against his chest.

Diya allows herself to fall against Aarav's chest and she sighs. Her hand rests in his as she shuts her eyes and allows her mind to paint her a picture of what life would be like for the two of them when they moved back to India after college. "Juhu mein," she decides. Her own house with her mother is also in Juhu and she knows the area well; she knows Aarav will like living there. She looked up at him from where she was resting her head against his chest. "We'd get a dog, maybe a golden retriever. We could name her Goldie..." She paused, frowning at the laugh bubbling on Aarav's lips and gently whacked his chest. "Okay maybe not Goldie but you can think of the name." As they'd already seen, Diya was downright awful with picking names for pets; her heart felt warm at the thought of a house. A house with Aarav, with a little puppy who barked at the door every time she came home. A home where they'd spend time in the kitchen, trying to cook on the nights when the maid had taken leave. It was everything Diya wanted, wrapped in a nice, domestic bow.

Aarav was surprised at the life Diya had already envisioned for them. But he really hadn't expected to WANT it as much as he did. He was just so happy to know that Diya wanted a future with him, and not just like some short-termfuture but she truly wanted a proper future with him. A future that actually became his life. He wanted this, he really wanted it so badly. He even wanted a dog with that name Diya picked out, even if he couldn't imagine calling a golden retriever such a cliched name. "You're right, I'll give her a name that doesn't make her roll her eyes," he grinned before quieting down when she looked lost in thought once more. "So--why Juhu? Is that where all you filmy folk stay?" Aarav was Mumbai - illetrate. Which truly meant, asides from knowing that the Gateway of India was there and the Bollywood industry--he knew next to NOTHING. Though if he was honest, asides from a couple places in Delhi, he didn't know much either--he just wasn't allowed out as often as his other siblings were.

Diya chuckled at the way he referred to the stars who lived in Mumbai and turned to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed and lips drawn into a pout. "Filmy folk?" Diya repeated, another chuckle escaping her. "Are you from the 1940s?" She pressed a kiss to his cheek, just to make sure he knew she was only joking and didn't mean any harm, or malice towards him with the words she spoke before nodding. "Yeah, almost everyone I know - all the old-timers, sab Juhu main hi rehte hain. Shayad naye stars Bandra main ho par mujhe Juhu main hi rehna hain." Since they were speaking of their future, Diya patted his knee to capture his attention once more. "Should have a home in Delhi also? Agar kabhi kabhi mann kiya Mumbai se door jaane ka? Kahin aur toh ghar hona chahiye na?" She paused then, before grinning. "I think nani put the house in my name, in her will." Except perhaps that was too close to where his family lived, maybe he didn't want to see them ever again; Diya certainly didn't want him to see them again. "Actually, we should get a house somewhere else. I've heard that Saket is where all the rich people live, toh phir humein bhi wahin ghar lena chahiye!"

Aarav smiled cheekily when she kissed his cheek at his words, he really had no idea about the world she came from, but he was strangely confident that with her by his side--he'd easily fit in. It wasn't normal for Aarav to feel this confident or this comfortable but with Diya in his life--it made him realize that even during the summers when she was around--things were easier for him. He found himself wanting to be able to show her that he was worthy of being in her life. But as she spoke about Mumbai and the different areas, he found himself blanking. He'd definitely need to check out a map of the city to understand the names of these places she was rattling off. He felt her hand on his knee and glanced up quickly, his eyes wide and apologetic for zoning out in his own thoughts. "Delhi mein--" but he didn't know what to say. Because a home in Delhi might be--HARD for him. Still, he heard what she said about a house in Saket, and a small smile was on his face before he nodded. "I like that idea, lekin tujhe-- you should honor her memory right?"

Diya waved her hand, as if she were waving away his concerns about wanting to honour Tanvi Mehra's memory. She knew her grandmother, and her grandmother would wave away such illusions of grandeur. In fact, if her grandmother were dead and realized Diya was living in her house out of nostalgia, or sentimentality - the woman would rise back from the ashes to smack her on the head. "It is decided. We'll have a home in Saket, and we can bring our dog too because it'll be nice for her to run around in the backyard instead of being cooped up in the apartment for most of the year." She wanted more than just that; she wanted the big rock on her finger; she wanted to be Mrs. Diya Roy; she wanted to be HIS in every way the world allowed. She wanted children with him; she wanted to live her entire life with Aarav Roy. He understood her, in a way perhaps nobody had ever tried to. It was almost as if Diya had found her missing half.

Aarav could only smile when he caught her waving her hand as if she was shooing something away. It made him chuckle but he suppressed the urge while she spoke, deciding that her little idea for the future sounded rather nice, something that he'd definitely want to have in his life as well. "I like this idea," he spoke quickly before laying back down on her bed, tugging her with him as he grasped her hand in his. "But I mean--in this future of yours, aur kya hai? Hum khush toh zaroor honge, because we'll be together. But you'll be an actress, aur main? Main kya karoonga?" Really though, as long as he was featuring in her future dreams--he didn't care WHAT he was going to be doing in them, but still, this whole conversation was fun and it was enough to make him forget about his past because the future was proving to be much more than he'd anticipated.

Diya used her free hand to tug the covers onto them, so they were now shrouded in the white of her comforter. The fabric hid them from the rest of the world, almost as if it were protecting this little fantasy of theirs, preventing it from becoming TAINTED by the outside world. Her hand pulled out of his, only so she could run her fingers through his hair as she thought about what he said. "Choreographer. Ya phir tumhara apna dance studio hoga," she declared, as if Diya had some magic crystal ball in her conscience which told her all the different things planned for their future. They were young; they were allowed to create their own futures. Especially since when you're young, it's easy to create your own futures. It's easy to think that you're in control of your own destiny; it's THEN life throws you a sucker punch, turning your entire world upside down. The sucker punch is still far in the future for these two, but it's there. It waits. It lurks. It waits for the right time to pounce. The right time to destroy all their crafted hopes and dreams.

Aarav had been hunting for one of his looser shirts, one that he wore over his muscle tanks when he danced when he found it buried under a lot of her clothing, smelling suspiciously like her signature scent. Of course, she'd worn it.Half of Diya's wardrobe was in Aarav's closet or drawers, and it had been unconscious. She'd just come overdressed in her clothes, leave in variations of his items as well as her own, and soon enough--it was like she was living at his place a feeling he LOVED. When Aarav had run into Diya weeks ago, he'd never thought that this would end up here, but he loved it--he loved knowing she was right there in his life. Her presence created a calmness around Aarav, which was strange considering her usually bubbly and happy nature. But Aarav wouldn't trade it for the world. He was slipping on the shirt when he heard the sound of a keycard in the door and turned to see her standing there with some books in her arms. "So--I've got practice in about fifteen minutes, but when I get back--we can go to that diner for dinner?" He smiled before reaching her, his arms sliding around her waist. "Also--you realize that your going back to your dorm is kinda silly right? Considering how more than half your stuff is here?"

Diya was incredibly aware of the fact how she couldn't find more than half of her clothes in her own wardrobe, save for her undergarments (but even then, her favourite black lace bra was nowhere to be found in her drawers). She was also incredibly aware she would only ever come back to her house in the morning before her classes. The food she'd bought at the start of the year remained unopened in the kitchen cabinets; dust gathering on the laundry basket she had kept in her own room. In fact, her bed now looked like it hadn't been slept in for at least a week. Even now as she stood outside Aarav's door, a copy of his keycard in her hand - she carried her books, completely intent on spending most of her night in Aarav's house, in his dining table as she slaved over her History of Theatre textbook which was soiled more with her tears of boredom, rather than actual notes. So when she heard the words that fell from Aarav's lips, Diya chuckled and only shrugged as she entered the house. Setting her books down, Diya turned in Aarav's embrace, reaching up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. "Can't you ditch practice this once?" There was a soft whine in her words, the whine of a girlfriend whose boyfriend had been so caught up in practices - and whenever he was free: she had classes, or play rehearsals. It was nearly impossible for their schedules to meet. Just yesterday, Diya had let herself into Aarav's place around midnight because his flat was closer to the Amphitheatre than hers. He'd already fallen asleep so Diya had kicked off her shoes, replaced her uncomfortable cami and skirt with one of Aarav's shirts and slid into bed next to him. She wanted him to go to practice, because she had something planned for tonight. Hence why she wasn't answering any of his questions; maybe he didn't realize it but they'd been seeing each other a month now.

Aarav could hear the whine in her voice, and see the pout on her lips but he still couldn't allow himself to give in. It was imperative that he go, and practice because this choreography was a lot harder than he'd expected and yet he was feeling the expectations, not from the choreographer, but from himself rising with each day that passed. Aarav wanted to prove to himself that he was worthy of being here and he could do anything he set his mind to. He looked down at Diya though, feeling his resolve slackening every so slightly before he shook his head. "Not this one, but maybe the next one on Sunday? It's optional since a lot of people need to study for their midterms and all. We'll spend the day together? Until you have rehearsals too?" He wrinkled his nose. He knew she was busy, swamped really but he also loved that she was over at his place because her being here--it meant they were able to at least SEE each other even if they couldn't spend too much time with one another thanks to their crazy schedules.

Diya huffed, grinning when the piece of hair that had fallen in her face, lifted upwards because of the air she'd blown out of her mouth. Pushing the strand away, she only sighed. "Fine," she grumbled, fingers playing with the shirt he was wearing. "Go to your stupid practice." Of course she didn't really think his dance practice was stupid; she just found it stupid how they barely had any time together. "You'll be home before ten right?" The last time he'd gone for a weekday practice, Diya had fallen asleep at the dining table, face buried in her textbook for two reasons: 1) the material was damn boring (she hated all the theory of acting) and 2) it was past one in the morning. Even the owls had gone to bed, and Aarav had arrived after that. She remembered that because Diya remembered being jostled awake as she was lifted into her boyfriend's arms and carried to bed. Of course she'd only been awake for a grand total of three minutes once she'd hit the bed before crawling back to where Aarav was, curling into his side before falling asleep once again. Pulling away from the kiss, Diya walked towards the dining table, opening her textbook. She would wait till he left, before taking out all the decorations from her bag; a recipe folded into the front pocket of the luggage for the dinner she was going to (or at least attempt to) make.

Aarav laughed when she blew on a piece of her hair that had fallen over her eyes, completely unintentionally before he gave her another pout, rivaling her own. "It's not stupid, I mean--you're the one who said I look amazing when I dance," he teased before hearing her words and nodding very diligently. "The choreographer has to be home by 10:30, he gave us some excuse, but really--I don't care, as long as I get to be home and spend time with you. But obviously, if you need to study too, I get it." he grinned before feeling her pull away from him and sighing quietly. "Okay I'm going, but listen--try not to miss me too much," and Aarav blew her a kiss, surprising even himself with the action before he closed the door to his room behind him, once more--thanking his very lucky stars.

Diya stared at the door even after Aarav had gone, reliving that last moment where he'd blown her a kiss in the most filmy manner ever; or even the cocky way he'd spoken, throwing her a wink as he did so. Had she rubbed off on him? She hadn't remembered Aarav ever being so playful back in Delhi. Even then, he may have opened up to her but he was still incredibly TROUBLED. He carried his heartache on his shoulders, shoulders which were crumbling under the weight. She stood then, dumping out the contents of her bag onto the dining table: the ten vanilla candles fell out, as did the bag of rose petals (courtesy of the props department). Diya laughed to herself, as she began tossing the petals around the entire apartment, almost as if she were reenacting a scene from some film (maybe one of her mother's?). She worked with a steady hand as she lit the candles, watching as the previously dark room was now dimly lit. It wasn't dark, it was what Diya liked to call romantic lighting. The candles flickered in the wind coming from the slightly hatched window, which Diya ran towards. Her footsteps sounded strangely LOUD in the empty apartment. Her fingers curled around the latch as she tried to pull it shut; her knuckles grew white and her chest heavin when on the fifth attempt the window finally shut. DING! That was the timer on her phone, telling her she really needed to get to her noodles right now so they wouldn't burn, causing her and the rest of the building to rush down in a fire drill. Diya placed the noodles in a bowl on the center table, two plates next to it and a single candle in the middle. Where were those damn wine glasses? The bottle of wine was in her bag but she couldn't find wine glasses anyway. Hadn't Aarav said he'd bought some the previous week? She stomped around the kitchen before settling for paper cups; not QUITE the romantic atmosphere she was hoping for. Diya dug through her bag to find the white summer dress she had ordered online (it had come yesterday) and she worked at letting her hair fall in soft waves around her face. Perfect! Taking a seat on the couch, Diya kicked her legs up, letting her book balance against her legs but her gaze remained on the clock, waiting for Aarav to come home.

Aarav had just showered after his long and strenuous practice, glad to be in fresh clothes when he headed up the walkaway to his dorm. He knew that Diya was going to deliberately try to stay awake tonight, even if she was crazy tired, just because well--it was Diya. But Aarav would ensure she got proper rest. And it was with these thoughts that he stepped into the elevator, his gym bag hanging by his side as he hummed the instrumental to which he was going to be performing to in three short weeks. Once the doors opened to his floor, he had his keycard out and ready to open the door, when he smelt something delectable wafting into the hallway. Diya couldn't have--cooked could she have? She had asked for a time for his return and he knew she liked attempting new dishes--his pantry was filled with different ingredients. Curiously, he opened the door and for a split second, before he spotted her on the couch, he believed he was in someone else's room completely. He shut the door behind him, his eyes still taking in the entire room, and the atmosphere she'd created before he gaped at her. "Yeh sab tumne--kaise?" he was a bit dumbfounded but never before had anyone surprised him in such a way, and he really was almost rendered speechless thanks to it. He dropped his bag on the ground, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't come home sweaty and gross and had opted for a shower in the changing rooms. "I'm so--surprised."

Diya had been pretending to read her textbook when she heard the keycard in the slot. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, watching his expression through hooded eyes, not even flinching when the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. It was only when he dropped his gym bag and expressed his SURPRISE, Diya shut the book and stood, sauntering over to where Aarav was. The faint noise of bells followed her each footstep, the anklet on her foot chiming as she walked. Her arms looped around his neck, as she let his arm wrap around her waist - tugging her closer to him so it felt as if she were a vine draping around a pillar. Or maybe a sunflower twisting towards the light. She reached up on her toes then, capturing Aarav's lips in a soft kiss as she whispered, "Happy one month anniversary." Perhaps she didn't have to go through so much trouble for something as trivial as a MONTH but to this day, a confession of Aarav's haunted Diya. It was the one he'd made pertaining to birthdays, how he'd told her he'd never really celebrated his birthday, not properly - not with a big party. Especially if his father was on some business trip the week of; it gave Chandini full control to run rampant. So she wanted to do this; to celebrate even the smaller things in life. She tugged on his hand, leading him to the couch as she dumped some noodles into his plate before twisting them around his fork and pressing it to his lips. Her legs lay in his lap as she settled onto the couch, waiting for him to take a bite. She worried she'd put too much salt in the dish. Not her fault! The recipe had said to add as needed. How was Diya supposed to know how much salt was needed? "I couldn't find the wine glasses," she murmured, nodding to the paper cups and the bottle sitting next to it.

Aarav quickly embraced the woman he was in love with, smiling when he felt her arms loop around his neck as well. There was something almost poetic about how they fit together. A confession he'd make one night late when they were both groggy, letting it slide under the sleepy words. But he truly believed in. Still, he smiled when he felt her lips against his own, kissing her back equally as enthusiastically until he heard her words. She'd gone through ALL this trouble for their anniversary, an anniversary he hadn't even remembered. It wasn't that he didn't like celebrating it, but for him--their union felt almost longer than a month, but he also knew how that confession might be received and sighed quickly to himself before moving with her to the couch and sitting down so that he was against one end while she slipped closer, a place in her hand, his fork held right up against his mouth. He quickly took a bite, closing his eyes when he tasted the different flavours all mixing together before he heard her words and chuckled. "They're still in the box in the laundry room," he murmured deciding that if they were doing a celebration--they'd do it right. He carefully slid her legs off and hurried to get the glasses before returning to her with them and a corkscrew, "do you want me to open it?" He had very little experience with wine, choosing to mostly get beer's when the two of them went out anywhere but this was part of the world they used to belong to, and Aarav wanted to try, he wanted to show her that he could see be that guy from their society but without the baggage he kept locked in his chest.

Diya bit back the whine threatening to fall from her lips when he eased her legs off of him, in search for something. It was then she decided to taste the noodles, considering Aarav never said anything. A bite in and she nearly choked. There was definitely too much salt in this; how had he even eaten the one bite? Diya wouldn’t feed these noodles to sodium deficit children, much less herself. She looked up when she saw Aarav, wineglasses in one hand, corkscrew in the other. Her hand clutched the fork as she waved it at him, eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you TELL how bad it was? I would have— I’ll order some pizza.” Her shoulders slumped, a thin downward drawn line on her lips. So much for her romantic dinner. Yet Diya didn’t move, she remained seated on the couch and nodded at the wine bottle. “Haan please.” The last time she’d opened a wine bottle, she’d nearly taken out her own eye.

Aarav returned quickly with the wine glasses and the corkscrew before looking at the way she was reacting and laughing at her expression. "Well--it's okay," he murmured quickly, wishing for her not to be so upset about it. He didn't tell her because well, he'd have eaten it. She'd gone through so much trouble to make this a special moment for both of them, he wasn't going to be one of those guys who complained about her food. He loved the fact that she'd even wanted to do something for him. "Let me order something in a bit," he smiled before uncorking the wine bottle and pouring her out a glass before handing it to her and doing the same for himself. Aarav resumed his position on the couch before this time drawing her in so that her head rested against his chest while he had his phone out to make some quick online order instead of talking and ruining their night. "Pizza is ordered," he pressed his lips against her forehead now before looking down at her, "yeh sab-- I love that you did all this."

Diya could only smile when Aarav confessed to loving what she'd pulled together in such a short amount of time. She also wondered if tonight was the right night, to consolidate their relationship. Now Diya normally never believed in the hoodoo that your relationship was only a relationship if you'd consumated it; those idealogies were best left in the past, in the time of Diya's grandmother and maybe even her mother; however, she looked at Aarav and she wanted to. For the first time in her life, she wasn't being FORCED into it; she wanted this with her entire heart and soul. She wanted Aarav Roy with her heart and soul. So she reached up, fingers hooking under his chin to turn his face in her direction as she kissed him. "I just wanted to do something special." Diya wanted Aarav to know she loved him, that she would NEVER hurt him; ever.

Aarav turned to her when she hooked her fingers under his chin and kissed her back softly. There was something about her kisses. Each one was different from the last. Some would be intense and hard, and some (like this one), soft and sweet. He was crazy about her kisses, and really? He was crazy about her. Aarav wanted to tell her that too, but he also knew that there would be a correct time for it. Right now, he just wanted to do whatever it was she wanted--because he knew this was going to be his long-term. The summer friendship had blossomed into something much more tangible and even though he'd been so sure that he'd be forgotten, Diya hadn't let him. She held onto him and that's why he knew he really was falling for her every single day. "You always make things special," he admitted quietly before taking hold of her hand away from his chin and grasping it with his own, their fingers interlacing. "You--you make me feel something I NEVER thought I'd get to feel."

Diya felt a certain warmth fizzle through her when his fingers interlocked with hers, and stifled the urge to let out a romantic sigh. She'd been letting out a lot of those around Aarav lately; everything about him made her feel light; it made her feel AIRY. Almost as if she were walking on clouds, as if nothing could hurt her no matter where she went. Diya had never felt this way before; she'd never understood it either, never understood how anybody could feel that way about a person. "You deserve it," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw because she knew he had more to say. It was in the quieter moments like these, where Diya could see the fragments of his abuse; they lived in him, almost like a benign tumour, or maybe even shards of glass. His family had broken him in a way she would never understand, but she knew - if she could - she would spend the rest of her life showing him that he wasn't what THEY'D made him out to be. It was in moments like these she felt as if her mission had been (somewhat) successful. The smile on her face only grew before it dwindled to a pout. "But I ruined dinner..."

Aarav sometimes even wondered if Diya was aware of the things he'd gone through, or if just from the surface she'd made her guesses and left it like that. But the thing was--she had witnessed a lot of Chandini's cruelty when the older woman didn't know Diya was hiding in the room with Aarav, and while he was ashamed, he was also thankful that Diya could see it firsthand. Because in school, Aarav had tried to tell one of his teachers, but when she'd sent over child services, Chandini had acted as if Aarav were her favourite son, and Aarav--well, he got accused of lying. Since then Rohan and Diya were the only people who knew--Aarav couldn't even tell his own father, but that was also because he believed Suraj must've supported her since they were married. He smiled when he felt her kiss against his jaw, making him look down and capture her lips in a soft kiss again. Diya understood Aarav and perhaps that was the easiest thing in this relationship. Because she knew where he came from. But he laughed when she spoke before he shook his head. "No, it's okay baby--because you'll make it up with dessert," he whispered even though he didn't know if she'd made anything, or even how she'd react to his very sudden term of endearment.

Diya paused when she heard the soft baby fall from his lips, and looked up at him again. “Say it again.�� She would make it up to him with dessert alright; she knew just the thing. Underneath this soft, white summer dress was a pair of white lace bra and panties. She’d gone out shopping yesterday, trying on seven different pairs before settling on the one she was currently wearing. Diya was sure the staff at La Senza would not want to see her face ever again. And so, she allowed herself to get swept up in the kiss, feeling his tongue sweep across the crevices of her mouth as she let out a soft whimper, tugging him down over her as she lay on the couch, arms looped around his neck, hand resting on the back of his head. She wanted to devour him, wanted to drown in his kisses. They had time. The standard thirty minutes it took to deliver an order was proof.

Aarav only smiled at her, his eyebrows furrowing before he realized what she was asking for. He tucked her hair away behind her ear before he came close enough so that his lips would brush against her earlobe. "Baby," he didn't know what it was, but it felt--normal, actually more than even normal--it felt right. Aarav could call her that, she was his girlfriend and he was falling more and more in love with her every single day. He didn't realize when she'd lay down on the couch, her arms tugging him down with her until he was leaning against the back of the couch so that his weight didn't fall on her as they kissed. There truly was something so magical about being with Diya like this, and it caused him sometimes to wonder if it was all a wonderful dream that he was having. What if he woke up and found himself in that cramped little room back in Delhi? What if--but her lips, her gentle touch, and her soft words of encouragement always reminded him that this was REAL and no one could take that away from either of them.

Diya appreciated the hesitation with which Aarav’s hands moved along her skin; the way his hand hovered as if asking for permission. She NEEDED it; she needed to feel like she had given him the right to her body; especially since the last time she’d been this close to somebody... It had been different; it hadn’t been like this; it hadn’t felt right. This on the other hand, with Aarav’s lips against her neck, feeling his teeth scrape against her skin (oh god) felt like a dream. It felt perfect. Her hands tugged at the edge of his shirt, wanting it off. The candles began to flicker once more, the thin chiffon curtains blustering, making flapping noises as they moved. Her own lips moved to his ear, tugging gently on the earlobe there.

Aarav hadn't realized when this moment became so heated but he wasn't complaining. He was happy to be with Diya in every way. It was true that he wasn't at all experienced and so he was a lot warier and hesitant when he touched her, but she only reaffirmed his actions by following in his handprints, pressing down on his own to tell him that she wanted this touch. Aarav smiled against her skin when he nipped at her gently, soothing it over with his tongue, surprised at the different sounds he could get her to emit. He felt her fingers trying to inch up his torso, pushing his t-shirt with them as he broke apart for a few moments and stripped it off, covering her with his body once more, this lips back on his favorite spot on her neck, only groaning loudly when he felt her teeth tug on his earlobe.

Diya couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her when she heard the sound that fell from Aarav’s lips; she tugged at the spot again, wanting to hear him emit the same noise. It sent a tingle down her spine, and warmth to gather at the bottom of her stomach. She squirmed under his grip, wanting him closer to her but the couch was beginning to feel uncomfortable. The edge of the couch began to dig into her back and Diya shifted, only for the shift to prove fatal. They went tumbling down to the carpet, Diya on top of Aarav. The sound of her laughter broke the heavy silence that had surrounded them. Her legs were either side of him, one hand pressed to his chest as the other covered her laugh. Diya leaned down then, pressing a kiss to his lips again, the smile evident on her features.

Aarav was in ecstasy, there was truly no other way to explain it. She was driving him wild and he was sure she knew it too. After all, how could she not considering how his body was reacting to every single touch she gave him. He felt her begin to move under him and he was about to lean away when he felt himself fall to the carpet, laughing at how he was now on his back with her completely on top of him. Her legs were on either side of him and he found his hands resting on her thighs, which were semi-exposed now thanks to the way her sundress had ridden up. Aarav felt her lean in and smiled at the way her lips felt against his own but if they kept this up--he was going to have to go for a very cold shower before dinner; a habit he'd started of late thanks to his very enticing girlfriend.

Diya grinned, letting her canines show giving what her mother called her wolfish grin. A label Diya had never really understood; she only continued to kiss Aarav, letting out a soft whine at the way his hands seem to rise further up her sundress. Diya broke the kiss only to let her lips trail hungrily down his neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouth kisses in her wake. “When did you order the pizza?” She whispered this against the base of his throat, surprised to find it was a spot which elicited moans from him. Diya knew now this was how they would ring in their one month anniversary, by turning it into a bang-iversary. Quite a good play on words if you asked Diya. She raised her arms, breaking the kiss so the sundress could be pulled off over her head. She giggled when she only got caught in it and sat back up, straddling Aarav as she tried to find her way out of the fabric. “Help na,” she whined, her voice muffled.

Aarav was a little bit stunned at the grin he caught on Diya's face, but he was very intrigued as well because she looked SO hot to him right now. Except he heard her soft little whine and found himself feeling rather turned on, even if he was trying not to let it show too much. But it was when he felt her lips down his neck that he actually gripped her thigh tightly, his frustration clearly showing. Except he found her raising her arms, which meant she was taking them away from him which wasn't very pleasing because he wanted her touch, he craved her touch. And it was when he heard her little whine and request for help that he realized she'd asked him a question, as well. "Oh uh--twenty minutes ago?" But then he pulled away from her so that he could help get her dress off her. But the sight that greeted him after he had it off her body--was something he hadn't expected. "Wow," he whispered softly before letting his hands gently trace her curves, resting at her waist, surprised at the way she was actually reacting.

Diya arched her back when she felt his hands run along her sides, her own hands rested against his abdomen, palms flat. Her nails dug into his skin when she felt his hands rest against her waist, pinky finger mere milimetres away from the waistband of her panties. "We really... should have thought this... through." If they'd ordered for food twenty minutes ago, it would mean there were only ten minutes for them to finish their business and that wasn't what Diya wanted; not for their first time at least. She shut her eyes then before reaching forward to kiss him again. Aarav didn't seem like he would be in any state to get up off the floor when the pizza would come so she would get it from the delivery boy. They could decide then if they wanted to have the pizza first, or skip straight to DESSERT. She chuckled against his lips, tugging gently on his bottom lip, wanting to coax another moan from him. At least tomorrow was a Saturday, which meant their little rendezvous could be dragged out for as long as it needed to be.

Aarav had no idea how Diya could be this full of surprises but she was. He was staring at her, half ashamed at how he was looking but she looked SO delectable that he just wanted to hide her from the world. But he heard her words and groaned very loudly because now he was understanding exactly where this night was headed, and he couldn't help but wish he had skipped practice earlier. But he smiled when he felt her kiss him, except when he felt her deciding to tease him and groaned very loudly again. "Can you not?" he whispered against her lips before he reached into her beautiful tresses and gripped it by her neck, gentle enough to not hurt her. "You're enticing me--and I hate that I even ordered the damn food," he chuckled before groaning as he fell back towards the floor, looking up at her through his hooded gaze. "I--you're amazing baby, you know that right?"

Diya found herself giggling more often than not in Aarav's presence, which was strange by itself. Most people who knew Diya knew her as the LEAST giggly person ever. She would always laugh loudly, uncaring of what people thought of her hyena-like laughter. And yet with Aarav she was a lot more demure, a lot more shy but at the same time - THIS was who Diya Mehra was in reality. She wasn't the loud, assertive girl everybody at John Conoon School knew; well she was but this was the part of herself she kept hidden; the soft part. It was hard to display this part of herself back in Mumbai, especially when it felt like the walls were always closing on her; where it felt like everybody was watching her, waiting for her to slip up. Not here; here, Diya felt safe. She reached forward to intertwine their fingers when Aarav spoke, and shrugged. Smugness oozed in her voice as she gave him a wink, "Jaanti hoon. Tum bhi theek ho."

Aarav only scoffed at her words, surprised that she actually believed he'd let her get away with saying that and nothing more. "Nuh uh, I don't think so," he whispered before squeezing their interlaced hands before he wrinkled his nose before inching closer and pressing his lips to her own nose. "I think I'm much more than just theek." And this was the MAIN moment that Aarav could tell he'd changed from the boy he was in Delhi. The old Aarav would never have said this, he'd never have confronted someone or said any of these words like this. But Diya, she brought in that confidence, and it was through her actions that he felt the confidence to even let them out. Aarav was surprised though at how E A S Y everything was with her. She had this amazing ability to draw out the Aarav inside of him that he'd buried when he was merely five years ago, the first time he'd been old enough to realize that the abuse he was dealt--wasn't right.

Diya squealed when he tugged her closer to him, so she lost her balance and fell atop him. Her hands rested against his pectorals now as she tried to raise herself slightly; her hair fell to the side, providing a curtain for them as she looked into Aarav's eyes. "Fine, you are much MUCH more than theek. You are amazing," she murmured, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, "and I love you," another kiss to the other corner of his mouth, "so much." Not a single word Diya spoke was a lie; ever since she'd found herself getting caught up with Aarav, everything else in her life had fallen into PLACE. It only reaffirmed her belief in fate, in destiny; because Aarav had been given to her for a reason, and vice versa. Diya truly believed they were really meant to find each other in London, to fall into each other's arms, to fall further in love. And Diya had walked into love with Aarav, she'd walked into it, eyes wide open. She'd walked into it, careful not to step on any cracks. She'd walked into it, completely trusting. And Diya knew, if he were ever to be separated from her - Diya would continue walking until she found him AGAIN.

Aarav couldn't help but smile when he watched her fall against him, smiling at the heat he could feel from her hands before he looked into her gaze. He loved the way she looked at him, it was beautiful. There was so much trust and pyaar in his eyes that it truly made him warm inside. "I love you too," he whispered as soon as he heard her words before he tugged her up once more so that he could meet her gaze, smiling when he once more saw her looking at him. "You--I'm so lucky," he whispered before smiling right when he heard the doorbell which had him groaning rather LOUDLY. "Quick, get that dress on, or grab my robe from behind my bedroom door. But there is no way any delivery boy is going to see you looking like this," he murmured, nipping at her neck once more, his hands flat against her stomach as he continued to hold her, despite telling her to hurry and get her clothes on.

Diya rolled her eyes at how possessive Aarav was being. "So you think I would REALLY open the door wearing nothing but lingerie?" She gently removed his hands from her waist, already missing the warmth before standing up and grabbing her dress from where it lay discarded on the couch. Tugging her hair out of the clothes, she combed her fingers through it, trying to make it seem like she wasn't engaging in what they had been engaging in moments before. Not like it would help, considering the flush on Diya's cheeks screamed sexual activity; she was glowing like some fresh virgin, which was funny because she wasn't. A virgin, that is. Grabbing the cash from Aarav's wallet, she bent down to press a kiss to his lips before trailing them her lips to his ear, whispering a sultry, "I'll only do that for you," and pulling away before Aarav could even think of tugging her back. She answered the door with a smile, taking the pizza and shoving the door closed once more. "So... pizza?" A chuckle escaped her because Diya knew what Aarav was interested in right now, and it DEFINITELY wasn't baked dough and cheese.

Aarav couldn't help the sheepish grin that he aimed up at her because the idea of her opening the door wearing nothing but lingerie, would really be a very NICE way to be greeted. Of course, he wouldn't say that because his affection for her wasn't strictly physical based and he needed for her to understand and know that. He only let out a very loud moan, one that he was sure the delivery man heard considering Diya was doing something very enticing that he definitely couldn't handle. But he only grinned when she took the food and shut the door on the probably amused delivery guy before she turned her attention back to him. "C'mere." He whispered before he tried to reach for her, aching for her at this point. This was a feeling he'd had a few times this month but really--tonight felt like he'd actually have a chance to do something with this frustration he was feeling.

Diya felt the smile only grow wider when he reached for her. The corner of her mouth quirked up higher, giving her the apperance of a smirk at the way he couldn't even sit himself up, or if she took her eyes a notch LOWER she could see the strain against his pants. Diya shrugged before making her way to where Aarav was but only held out her hand. "I don't want to get rug burn," she explained before leading him to the bedroom, blowing out the candles as she went. Now somewhere, in the corner of her mind Diya had anticipated this happening tonight which would explain the (sparse) rose petals scattered across the mattress, or even the two candles on either side of the bed, one for each night stand. Diya led him towards the bed before pausing so she could get on it, laying down. She sprawled herself on it, pretending to strike a pose and raising an eyebrow at Aarav. She lowered her voice (a poor attempt at being seductive), "You did say I could make it up to you with dessert." She bit down on her lip then, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the line sounded.

Aarav did not want to even think about how hard it was for him to stand and take her hand. It was very hard. But he understood and followed her into his, (more like their) bedroom. There was something extremely poetic about the way she was following out the candles, making it a scene from a movie almost. Like she was leading him towards their first night. He hadn't missed the rose petals she'd put around the mattress or how there were candles even in his bedroom which meant she'd most certainly planned out this night completely He frowned when she let go of his hand, instantly missing the warmth before he watched how she lay down on the bed and laughed out loud at her words. "Oh baby, you've more than done that. Except--let's get you out of this dress hmm?" And he leaned in behind her trying to undo the zip once more, lowering the straps from her arms, kissing her gently as he continued.

Diya felt chills go down her spine at the way he whispered baby, or even the way his hands were now against her back, feeling for the zipper of her dress. She could feel the dress getting looser by the second until it was barely held together and so Diya allowed herself to pull out of the dress, tossing it to the side of the bed. It hung by the poster of the bed, and she only tugged at Aarav, moving further up the bed until her back hit the headboard. Her hands tugged at the waistband of his basketball shorts. Diya had never been more grateful for the fact he wore those than she was right now. If he'd been wearing jeans, this entire experience would have been more drawn out as she attempted to undo the buttons, and then the zipper, and then him taking time to pull the fabric off his legs. Thank God, he's wearing basketball shorts. She tugged them down to his ankles before spreading her legs so she could pull him between them, her lips finding Aarav's again.

Aarav had no experience whatsoever, a fact that was becoming more and more obvious as he watched Diya scurry up the bed, tugging him with her while he just stared blankly. There was something so intoxicating about how she was behaving and it was making it harder and harder for him to control himself. But he did. He knew the general steps but the way she was making him so hot and bothered, it was new--it was exciting and Aarav loved it. He felt his shorts being tugged away which left him in just his boxers while he stared at her in that white lace ensemble. "I--you're sure?" He whispered, feeling suddenly inadequate but DETERMINED to not let that inadequacy ruin this for either of them. "Because I mean--I want to, so much, but only if you're ready," he murmured between their kisses, his hands once more on her thigh, gently moving up and down feeling her soft skin underneath his fingertips.

Diya squirmed under his touch, feeling her skin grow hotter by the second with the way his hands were rubbing against her inner things, fingers grazing the edge of her underwear. "If you say one more word, I won't do it," she threatened, but knew she wouldn't make good on her threat. He had her exactly where he wanted her (even if he didn't know it), chewing on her bottom lip, her heart racing in her chest, skin heated to the touch, and warmth pooling in her stomach. Her arms looped around his neck, tugging him closer to her as she slid down onto the bed, hair splayed across the pillow like inky trails and found his lips again. "It'll be good," she promised, her hands travelling lower down his chest to the waistband of his boxers as she gently pushed them down, relieving him of the restraint he'd been putting himself through. There was no way to explain how BADLY Diya wanted it. This may have not been her first time, but Diya thought it to be. She wished she could erase the memory of Karan's body covering hers, but no matter how hard Diya tried - it couldn't be. And with it, the feelings of disgust remained too. She hoped this memory with Aarav would edge the other one out, rewriting H I S T O R Y.

Aarav only narrowed his eyes when he heard her little threat, fully aware that that was all it was a mere threat. Still, he shook his head, pretending to be completely quiet not but the truth was if she continued moving down his body--there was NO way he was going to be able to stay quiet. After all, this woman was driving him absolutely mad. Still, he felt her nails scraping gently at his chest until of course, she reached where he felt the most pressure. He should've felt something more along the lines of embarrassment and yet, all he felt was WANT both of Diya, and for this moment to happen between them. It was a quick move when he slid his arms to her back and turned them so that she was now flat on her back, his face just centimeters from her own. But he didn't kiss her, oh no--that would be too easy. Instead, he blew cool air on her lips, before doing the same down her neck, coming close to touching but not quite.

Diya whimpered when he came close enough to kiss, but chose NOT to. She shivered then when she felt his nose running along her neck, choosing not to kiss the skin there the way she wanted to. She'd had enough of this teasing. Especially since it was threatening to bring her closer and closer to the edge; much sooner than she'd expected. Diya used her toes to inch the boxers he wore off the rest of the way, before letting her hand travel down to where his main frustration was and let her fingers wrap around it, moving her hand lightly. That would teach him not to tease her, but then again - this was Aarav's first time. Or at least, she assumed it was. Diya pulled her hands away then, placing a finger against Aarav's lips to silence his protests. "Do you keep... protection?" She hadn't asked where because frankly, she wasn't sure if he had any. If he didn't, it was okay. Diya had been carrying some in her purse just in case.

Aarav had not been expecting her to fight so dirty but when he felt her fingers touching him so gingerly--he couldn't bite back the groan that hit him hard. He hated feeling so easily excited as if he had close to no self-control. But when she pulled her hand away, he was about to retort, except her finger was on his lips, one he kissed before hearing her question. He nodded before rolling off her and heading to the night table and pulling out a small box of condoms. Aarav hadn't brought it with him to London, never having thought something like THIS would happen. But when he and Diya started getting closer, when she began spending time at his place, he knew it was inevitable and whenever it happened--he hadn't wanted to be completely unprepared in addition to being inexperienced. "I wasn't--presumptuous, I just thought--" but he trailed off, not wanting to explain himself when there were MUCH better things they could both be doing instead.

Diya breathed a sigh of relief when he waved the box of condoms in front of her. She took the box from him, undoing its wrapping and pulling one out and tossing it at Aarav's chest. "I've been carrying a foil ever since we started dating in my purse," Diya admitted quietly, not wanting him to think she faulted him for being presumptuous when she had done the exact same thing. She waits patiently when she hears the crinkling of foil paper, and only looks up when Aarav is hovering over her again. Her hands go up to his shoulders, holding him gently as Diya nods, wanting to give him the reassurance. She trusted him, and she wanted this. She wanted this so badly, it was clouding her ability to THINK. Diya let out a soft mumble of his name when she felt him push into her, arching her back up to the touch as her grip on his shoulders tightened.

Aarav only laughed when she tossed the single one at his chest, tearing it open and pulling it out fo the wrapper. He hears her words and looks up at her, smiling at the fact that they'd both been wanting this for a very long time. He puts it on, but not after a few fumbling tries because this just--it wasn't normal for him. Still, he went ahead to her, smiling when he felt her hands and watched her expression, surprised at how she was being so calm with him despite him being such a novice. He'd pushed into her, gasping at the feeling before he heard her quiet mumble, and felt her touch get tighter. "Tell me if it hurts," he whispered to her quietly, as he continued to move inside her, watching even her expressions for any sign of discomfort until he found it driving him closer to the edge, rather quickly which he DESPISED. Still, he could tell by her fingers on his shoulders that she was equally as close considering their insane amount of foreplay that led up to this moment.

Diya whimpered when she felt him moving in her, letting out another soft moan of his name as her nails clawed gently against his shoulder blades. She could feel him tightening around her already, and she knew that maybe, she would have to fake it this once. The first time is never good, everyone knows that and yet Diya shuts her eyes, not wanting to fake it for Aarav. She wanted it to be real, wanted everything to be real. So she arched her hips up, rutting them up against him, moving in the opposite direction as him to create more friction. Her breathing grew slightly laboured and the sound of her heartbeat echoed in her ears, reverberating until that was all she could hear. There was a part of her which wished THIS had been her first time, with somebody she actually loved. Somewhere it felt as if Diya had been robbed of the experience; at least, she was thankful Aarav would have the experience she never got.

Aarav hadn't expected any part of that to feel AS good as it did. He'd heard about it in some movies and shows, but he'd never spoken to anyone about it, fully aware that it was NOT something guy's discussed, and at his age, having a first time--was only degrading. Still, he was thankful that it was with Diya because at least it felt right, at least she didn't make him feel stupid for being a virgin or for not knowing the right moves or anything like that. He turned to look at her, as she rested against his chest before he poked a finger at her side, nudging her too to get her attention. Aarav wiggled his eyebrows, indicating he was ready to go another time, wanting to try to hold out for longer, to give her the edge she needed this time, especially since he knew the first time had pretty much been over before they'd started.

Diya wondered if she could catch some shut eye. Somehow that had tired her out; she certainly hadn't expected it to, considering Aarav had done most of the heavylifting. She'd only guided him. So when she felt him nudging her, and then poking at her side, she opened one eye to look at him, raising her eyebrow as if to say already? She remembered her first time with Karan, how everything had HURT for days after, how the feeling of being dirty, of being usedhadn't left her till this day. Even now, sometimes she felt as if she were wearing Eu De Discarded - as if she has a sign above her head, telling people this is ALL she is good for: to be used, and then tossed away. Her own family did it to her, what would stop everybody else? Still, Diya grinned at Aarav before pushing him lower. "Let's try something else hm?" She arches an eyebrow at him, before spreading her legs once more.

Aarav was just staring at Diya with very wide eyes as she pushed him down, especially after giving him that eyebrow raise. He'd known it was too soon and yet, he just wanted to make sure he could make it better for her. Something had felt almost--off about it. Sure it was great for him, but he knew she hadn't enjoyed it, her voice wasn't as vocal about what was happening and it was a key giveaway when it came to Diya Mehra who used her voice to express everything. Still, he watched her actions before reaching for her hand, wanting to interlace their fingers once more just like they had been doing all this time. It was a simple action, yes, but it brought him more peace than he'd expected.

Diya smiled, a tired smile, when his hand reached for her. She obliged to it, allowing their fingers to interlock the way they had been earlier but even that action makes her want to cry. This should have been her first time; this should have been her experience. Not the blackmail Karan had forced on her. God, if she shut her eyes Diya could still remember the exact words he'd said to her: you're my girlfriend Diya. you're supposed to do what I WANT. I can easily get it from anywhere else you know, but you're my girlfriend. You should want this, after all you want to see me happy no? Even now, his voice had the ability to send fear down her spine; the manipulative way he spoke, the way he dropped his voice, insinuating a threat. Karan had only hit her once, it had been that night - when she'd refused the first time. Diya had learned her lesson after that. She'd given in, remaining silent even when what he was doing hurt. She lay motionless underneath him, keeping her eyes shut so she wouldn't cry. She reminded herself that Karan was her boyfriend, that he loved her; she forced herself to believe she wanted it. And she had convinced herself; until tonight. Until she'd really done it with somebody she loved.

Aarav could see the look in her eyes, the fire in her eyes simmering now, having almost been blown out. And he shifted once more so that she was back to being on his side but still close to him. "We don't have to do anything, I'm sorry," he murmured quietly pressing his lips against her forehead. Diya may know everything about Aarav now but there was a lot about her that he hadn't a clue about. But he wouldn't ask, he'd wait. He knew that every time he asked, he was called annoying and bothersome and that's when Jai would decide to use him as a punching bag. He shut his eyes from the memory, from the aches he could still feel in his bones. But Diya would never--she'd be okay if he asked, and yet he knows that he never will. He'll always want her to be okay before he even thinks about himself once; that would never change.

Diya curled into him when he pressed his lips to her forehead, and turned on her side so she could hide her face in his chest. She wanted to tell him; she wanted to tell him so DESPERATELY. Yet she doesn't; there is something preventing her from doing so. Shame. She's afraid when he learns of her past, of the terrible things she's done he'll see who she REALLY is. Not the Diya he knows from Delhi, not the Diya he's fallen in love with. The other Diya, the one from Mumbai; the one Diya ran seven thousand kilometers to get away from. Besides, that Diya is dead and buried. She made sure of it before she left, cutting off ties from everyone back home. Except Veer; but he's doing that all by himself. If Diya doesn't call him, neither does he. Almost as if he's relieved to be rid of her. "I love you," she lets out in a small voice, one that is rough with tears.

Aarav wonders momentarily if Diya truly believes Aarav to be stupid or something. He knows there's something wrong, and he almost instantly believes it's his fault, after all everything usually is. But right now, with Diya, he doesn't want to jump to conclusions. She's not like his family, she won't be upset with him and not give him a reason. His one hand is flat against her back, gently rubbing up and down trying to soothe her, the way he remembered she'd done with him after one yelling session that she'd walked in on. He didn't know if it would help but Aarav was a bit inept in social skills and human emotions after that life so he wasn't always sure how to react or comfort. But when he felt her turn in his arms and whisper a very small confession of love, her voice heavy--he was concerned. "I--kya hua?" he asked quietly, his other hand now gently resting on her cheek. "Did I hurt you? Was it--that bad?" He murmured, ignoring his own self-pity, desperate to make sure SHE was okay.

Diya furrowed her eyebrows when he spoke of it being bad, of him being bad and she shook her head. Quite vigorously too. Her hand rested against his chest, perfectly manicured nails contrasting against the soft brown of his skin. “You were perfect.” Her jaw trembled however and Diya buried the urge to cry; she couldn’t. She also knew she needed to tell Aarav what was really going on in her head. He had been nothing but honest with her — he deserved some honesty too. “My first time was with... somebody I didn’t love.” Diya shut her eyes again, bottom lip quivering. “I wish I could take that back.” Diya wished THIS could be her first time; she wished it more than anything.

Aarav held her carefully in his arms, not wanting to hurt her as he saw the way she shook her head and came closer to him. He gave her a tiny smile when she spoke and truly wanted to believe her--but it was difficult, especially when she'd only begun feeling this way after they'd had sex. He didn't mind that she couldn't tell him what was going on, but he truly wasn't able to shake the feeling that he'd done this to her. He'd made it worse. Except when she spoke, he shut his eyes, not because she'd had sex before him because he didn't care about things like that. But he hated that she'd been in that situation where she'd been with someone she didn't care for as much. He pressed his lips against her forehead once more, "I'm sorry, I wish you could take it back too, but maybe--maybe this could help? Being with someone you do--care about?" Like he'd said before--Aarav is INEPT at handling certain conversations.

Diya realized in that moment, she would do ANYTHING to keep Aarav safe, to keep him as untainted and precious as he was. She loved him, for all his social anxiety, for his awkwardness, for the way you could hear his pure intentions in an otherwise inept conversation. Diya Mehra loved every part of Aarav Roy and she was sure now, nothing could pull her away from that; nothing could STOP her from feeling this very love. She looked up at him after he'd kissed her forehead and kissed his jaw softly, hand resting against his chest, right above his heart. She didn't want to be dramatic but it felt as if she could hear his heartbeat come alive underneath her fingertips. She cherished that feeling; she loved knowing she had such a powerful effect on Aarav Roy. "Like rewriting history?"

Aarav smiled when he felt her kisses and her hand on his chest. It was strange, but he almost felt like his heartbeat settled every time she pressed her palm against it. As if she was helping the blood flow, and making it work a bit better than it normally did. He only shook his head when she spoke before shrugging. "I don't know about re-writing history, and if that's possible, but creating new moments to take the place of the old ones--doesn't change what happened, but helps you see it maybe in a new way?" He smiled because that's how he was beginning to feel towards his dance it helped him find a part of him that he didn't like, and he'd dance away his anger, his pain, and his fear--leaving something beautiful in its wake. Maybe that could work with Diya as well.

Diya raised an eyebrow at his words before letting out a soft hum. "When did you become so poetic?" Her words were hushed as she finally let the atmosphere surrounding them dissipate. There was no need for her to insert her own sad life story in this; there was no need to drag down this moment. Aarav was right; whatever had happened was in the PAST. She could only move forward, create new memories so the bad ones didn't seem as bad anymore. She tugged at him, so he was hovering over her once more and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Let's make some new memories," she murmured, arms looping around his neck as she tugged him down towards her, wanting to get lost in all these little moments.

Aarav chuckled at her words because there was absolutely NO way that he was being poetic. He was just trying to make her feel even remotely better because he hated when she was sad. And now that she'd confessed what she'd been thinking about, he knew she was sad and he wanted nothing more than to take that away from her, reminding her that she had a very long life ahead of her, and she had some pretty great plans for her future, which thankfully involved him as well. "I like that idea," he whispered quietly when she'd gotten him to hover just about her, surprised at the way she was taking the lead once more. But Aarav wasn't entirely sure this was what she needed--however he kept his concerns to himself as he lowered himself so that his head was resting in the crook of her neck, just holding her close, reminding himself that he actually had someone who was this close to him--WILLINGLY.

Diya moved around in the kitchen, bumping an open drawer with her hip and smiling, satisfied when it shut with a resounding thump. She reached up on her toes, hand grappling to find the box of cereal. As far as her knowledge extended, Aarav was still asleep and Diya was not in the mood to sound the fire alarm again. Her gaze fell to the calendar, surprise colouring her at the thought of how the New Year was only a few DAYS away. Of course, this week was Christmas and it was the Christmas holidays. Most of the campus had gone dead, everyone leaving for the vacation but since there was no obligation to leave, Aarav and Diya had inhabited this ghost town. Her mother had asked if she wanted to come home but Diya had refused; there was nothing to come to. No best friend, no mother (she would be busy with shooting again), nothing. She would rather be here, with Aarav - where her HOMEwas. She shook the box, watching as a few flakes fell into the bowl and was about to move to the sticky notepad on the fridge, ready to write when she felt arms around her waist, lips at her neck. She squirmed under his grip. "It's five in the morning," Diya mumbled, amusement colouring her tone, obvious in the upturn of her lips.

Aarav had woken up to an empty bed and given how early it was in the morning--he wasn't pleased. He knew she didn't have classes or practice given that it was Christmas holidays, so where had she gone? He heard some quiet noises coming from outside and knew she must be out there. And so he stood from the bed, instantly shivering and looking for a hoodie or something since he liked to sleep without a shirt. Diya was the reason for this, considering at some point during the night--she'd usually rid him of a shirt, so he'd started just heading to bed without one. Once the door opened, he caught her standing there in the kitchen, a box of cereal in her hand when his arms wrapped and fingers hooked around her waist, he loved her. There was something so soothing about waking up and seeing her there, coming home, and finding her here. It reminded him of a real relationship--one he cherished. "I know," he whispered before pressing his lips against her neck once more. "So maybe you should come back to bed," he murmured, fully aware that they'd made plans to decorate his room for the holidays today, and maybe even get a small little tree--even if they weren't Christian, didn't mean they couldn't take part in the celebrations.

Diya only raised an eyebrow at the bowl she was filling with cereal at Aarav's words. "Oh? And who's going to make me?" There was a lilt to her voice, indicating the teasing she was attempting. It was only when she felt his lips at the back of her neck did Diya turn; her back now pressed against the edge of the kitchen counter as she draped her own arms around his neck and imitated her actions from moments earlier, an eyebrow raise. "HOW are you up?" Not that Diya complained, but lately Aarav slept like an elephant pumped with chemicals in some zoo, completely docile and relaxed. She liked it; she liked knowing he was so comfortable with her, he could be so UNINHIBITED around her. It made her heart melt. Her mother had asked her over the phone if she'd met somebody and (albeit shyly) Diya admitted she had. She didn't tell Falak Mehra the boy she'd found was indeed Aarav Roy, the very same boy who she disapproved of all those summers ago. The only reason Diya kept seeing him was because her mother wasn't around enough to enforce proper rules, and her naniloved Aarav. The old lady however was definitely off her rocker, or at least that was Diya's opinion when she was younger. The woman had given Diya her blessing to love, to marry Aarav. How was Diya to know that her words would ring so true later in life?

Aarav only smiled against her skin when he heard her words, both of them fully aware of the different ways Aarav could MAKE her. But right now, he opted or his lips against her neck once more, this time continuing a pattern when he felt her shift to face him. A triumphant smile presented itself on his face and he only grinned. At her question, however, he managed a quiet laugh before shaking his head. "I don't sleep well when you're not around," he confessed quietly, realizing it was true. The warmth of his bed was gone which meant Diya wasn't there and that caused him to wake up. He didn't mind it, except he realized how dependent he sounded and worried she would see it that way as well and probably..despise it.

Diya let the smile grow on her face until she was grinning from ear to ear. In response, she only reached up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to Aarav’s nose. “Well then it’s a good thing I moved in, no?” Her voice was soft, so soft the wind could have swallowed her words if it so wished. Instead she only let her feet rest flat against the floor, her fingers running through the hair on the back of his neck, adoration in her eyes. Diya did wonder sometimes, how on earth she’d managed to get so lucky. She wondered what deed she’d committed in her past life to have Aarav in her life, to know he loved her as much as she loved him; to know that she was safe in his arms; to know that wherever they were together was HOME.

Aarav nodded at her words, because truthfully until she officially had, it had been something he'd been wanting to say over and over. Because when she was around, his scars didn't hurt, his heart rested easy. And when she wasn't--he felt anxious, almost as if she was gone..not just for a little while. He knew it was silly and very dependent, but he loved her with possibly every fiber of his being. "I'm so glad you did," he murmured softly before holding her closer now, smiling at how they could both be incredibly content in JUST being together. "But batao na, what's got you up this early?" Maybe Diya didn't sleep quite as much as Aarav did, but she seldom got up this early which made him a bit curious too.

Diya bit down on her bottom lip at Aarav's question, hesitating with the answer. "Veer called." It hadn't been a very pleasant call either; he'd called her, drunk out of his mind. She didn't mention how it amused her the only time her "best friend" called her was when he was inebriated. Almost as if he didn't remember she existed all the other times. There had been worry in her heart, because she KNEW how Veer got when he was drunk but she hadn't said it. She'd lost the right to, somewhere feeling as if they'd stopped being best friends ever since she'd moved away. Not that Diya minded, she had Aarav. Aarav understood her in a way Veer couldn't have; she never mentioned it but Veer was perfect. He wouldn't be able to understand the insecurities that clawed at her heart; not when he thought her to be somebody else. Diya looked down then, staring at Aarav's chest, counting the different muscles over and over again while she waited for him to say something

Aarav could see that she was clearly struggling with someone and it made him slightly concerned until he heard her words. Veer Singhania, Diya's best friend from home. Mumbai would always be her home even if she swore she didn't want to go back for break. After all, it's why she decided that years from now, they were going to move there. Aarav could see her gaze dropping and gently unhooked one hand from around her and made a fist before he kept it under her chin, causing her to look back up at him. "Hey," he murmured before frowning and pressing his nose against her own. "What did he say?" Other boyfriends would also follow that sentence up with a, 'tell me and I'll go beat him up,' statement but that wasn't Aarav, not after his childhood. "He probably misses you no? I mean how could he not--you're just--well, you're so great." He was trying, and Aarav didn't know if Diya realized how hard he was trying, but he wanted her to be able to talk to him--about every little thing.

Diya let out a soft chuckle when he pressed his nose against hers, trying to capture her attention. She only smiled at that, at the way he told her she was GREAT. The funny thing was Veer had told her the same thing multiple times, but when it came from Aarav - she believed it. It almost felt like an endorsement, like evidence that she was indeed great. He'd looked at all the tired, worn and sometimes broken parts of her and decided she was worth it. Diya was unsure of how she could ever thank him for that. How could she ever thank him for LOVING her? "He didn't-- say much. He was drunk." That was a lie. From what she could make out of Veer's drunken gibberish, the call had been a confession: a confession of love. Diya hadn't said a word; she'd cut the call on Veer, praying his scrambled brain would account it to a dream in the morning and Diya would forget it. She didn't want Veer's love. "He said he loved me."

Aarav didn't have much to say when Diya mentioned how it was a drunk phone call from Veer. He'd been drunk but there had been no one ever for him to call, so he was pretty exempt from the whole drunk dialing issue. Even now though, he nodded along sympathetically, because he knew how much Diya missed Veer even if she wouldn't say it. She'd brought her picture collage with her to his place, and he'd often caught her just staring at some pictures of her best friend. "Well, at least he called?" Aarav offered before he listened to what she'd said next. "Oh," he nodded, his eyes almost blanking to hide his emotions from her, not wanting her to see how shattered that made him feel. He wasn't jealous, not really. He used to be--but not anymore. He had Diya in his life, but still--he was sure that someone like Veer was better suited for her. "Well um, that's a big thing to say," he gave her a half smile, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that was reminding him how things were SUPPOSED to be in his life. This happiness? Yeah, never meant for Aarav. And he really needed to remember that considering how often his momentary happiness was stolen away from him.

Diya could see the way he was retracting from her, even if his arms were still around her. She could see it in the way he tried to wipe all traces of emotion from his face, in the way his eyes carried a blank expression. She shook her head, her hands cupping his face. "I don't care," she whispered, there was a certain rigidity in her voice, one which mirrored in the hardened stance of her jaw. This was why she hadn't wanted to say anything; she knew how this would affect Aarav, even if Diya wanted NOTHING to do with it. "Do you know why?" Diya raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something before continuing, "because I love you." She did. She loved Aarav so much, it didn't matter to her what Veer's feelings towards her were. As far as Diya was concerned, if Veer had wanted to say something he should have said it YEARS ago. He should have kept in touch; he should have told her stone-cold sober, not that it would have made a difference. Telling her under the haze of alcohol was COWARDLY and Diya was sick of cowards.

Aarav looked down at her when he felt her hands cupping his cheek. He didn't want her to comfort him, not because he didn't want it, but because this was about her--not him. He gently held her hand against his cheek before shaking his head, trying to stop her from talking until he stopped when she spoke again. Aarav knew she was waiting for him to speak but he didn't know what he could say without ruining this. He didn't want to be the one to ruin it. If Diya truly did want to be with Veer, Aarav would never stand in her way. He wanted her to be happy, but if she was adamant on how she didn't care about it--he'd believe her. "I love you too," he whispered before wrapping his arms around her once more. "I don't--I love you, but I'm not--sach mein I'm not jealous." He wanted and needed for her to believe him because more than being upset, he was just trying to wrap his head around the fact that this happiness too was too far out of his reach.

Diya smiled when he wrapped his arms even tighter around her, when he reassured her he wasn't jealous. A part of Diya found it refreshing, how he didn't feel the need to assert his dominance over her. Jealousy, Diya found was a way for men to assert their dominance (or maybe she'd been paying too much attention in Social Psychology), to treat the woman they were with like some indispensible object. Perhaps the INDISPENSIBLE part of it was meant to be a compliment, but really it was a degradation. Diya reached up to peck his lips, feeling the warmth return to her chest. When his hands had left her waist, Diya felt a strange chill run through her. It wasn't the chill she felt when Aarav kissed her neck, no this was more... sinister. It creeped through her veins slowly, freezing over the blood running in them, her heartbeat sluggish. She wondered if this is what it would feel like if Aarav ever LEFTher. "Good, because there's nothing to be jealous of."

Aarav knew in that moment when he caught her smile just how important she was to him. Any other woman might've doubted him, or called him out on it, but instead--this woman was understanding and was able to see through that. Aarav kissed her back before pulling away just to look at her, wanting to memorize this moment because it was here--that he truly realized how lucky he was. "I know," he whispered before reaching to tug her closer and sighing. He remembered hearing all about Veer during the first two weeks of summer, and how Diya couldn't even say anything else. There were also times where she'd call HIM Veer, those stung because he just felt so completely--dismissable to her. Like she was always thinking about Veer and so that was the only person on her lips as well. He sighed though before looking down at her and shrugging. "I have to be honest though, I've been jealous--of him before. Jab tum Mumbai se Delhi aati--tab hamesha Veer ki baat karti thi, tab lagta tha, ke-- maybe I'm just some substitude friend for you."

Diya only wished Aarav would have told her this sooner; she wanted to apologize, for being the tool she had been during those summers. It made her wonder if Veer ever spoke about her the way she had about him; she REVERED him almost; it was only now she was realizing maybe he wasn't worth her devotion. Diya dropped her eyes then, shame colouring her cheeks as she held Aarav's hands in hers. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice cracking at the end. She'd been feeling emotional lately, the smallest of things managing to upset her. Yesterday, she'd watched some advertisment where a dog died and spent the next twenty minutes blubbering. Her mother's name flashing across her phone only made her bawl harder, hard enough for her to not be able to receive the call. "You were never a substitute." How could she tell him, somewhere he was better than who he considered the ORIGINAL?

Aarav shook his head again, he didn't want her to feel bad for his admission because it was years back, and he was okay now and he was super happy with this woman in his life. "Don't apologize," he whispered before drawing her closer so that he could tell her this without his voice being too loud. He wanted the two of them to be in this moment together and hopefully get past it. "I know, I believe you--I do, I just--humare beech mein mujhe koi issues nahi chaiye," he murmured before giving her arms a quick squeeze before smiling. "I don't want secrets, because--well, I've told you everything and you--you've told me things too and I love that with us. Ke hum dono baat kar sakhte hai ek doosre se.."

Diya looked up at him when he spoke, grateful to catch him in the light. The first rays of dawn were filtering through the blinds in the kitchen, hues of orange, of gold splattering across his cheek; they ILLUMINATED him. They made him look as if he weren't from this world; they made him look golden. Diya felt her breath catch in her throat, wishing she was something of a painter, or even a photographer. Anything to capture this moment, to keep it locked in her chest forever. She wanted to be able to come back to it, to the eye crinkles, to the soft smile, to the messy hair - she wanted to have this memory even when she was old and losing her marbles. Diya's hand reached up to hold his cheek, thumb brushing against the skin there. "Par hum baatein karne ke siva bhi aur kuch kar sakte hain..." An eyebrow raise. A cheeky grin. A hand resting against the waistband of his basketball shorts. She always found that hilarious: how he wore basketball shorts even though he didn't play the sport.

Aarav listened to her words and only smiled because while he was right about talking--she was right about NOT talking as well. He felt her hand against his lower abdomen and only shook his head. He didn't say anything more, but he took her hands away from his body and tugged her towards the bedroom, her bowl of cereal forgotten as he kept his eyes on her, aware that they both didn't have anything stopping them from doing whatever it was they wished. And so he gently lay her down on the bed, his one hand on her stomach, raising the hem of his shirt that she'd been wearing while he watched her expressions change thanks to the cold she was being exposed to now. "So--what are these other things?" He asked, acting incredibly naive even though his actions up til now spoke volumes about what it was he was angling for as well.

Diya giggled when he had pushed her hands away and led her to the bedroom - if it could be called that. Ever since the first time, they had convinced the other into the bedroom, sometimes even dragging them towards the bed, or (on occasion) if that was too far, then the couch. Bouncing the bed, Diya grabbed a pillow to rest under her head as she put a finger to her chin, pretending to ponder the question Aarav had asked. "Hm, I'm not quite sure..." Her hands reached for his shoulders however, flipping them so Aarav was now under her, her legs either side of him, straddling him on the bed as her hands rested either side of his head. "We could always watch a film," she murmured, her finger trailing down his chest, stopping at the waistband of the shorts he wore. "Or maybe sleep. It is the weekend," her voice was soft as she bent down to press her lips to the base of his throat.

Aarav felt his mouth go dry when she had flipped them so that he was laying on the bed while she straddled him. She did this often, and he loved every moment of it. There was something about her taking the lead, that he actually enjoyed. It wasn't about the power side of things, but Aarav felt still a bit inadaquete in the bedroom department so whenever Diya took over like this, it made him feel like--he was good at whatever he was doing with her and perhaps all the random things he even read in GQ were paying off. He groaned a little louder when he felt her hands at his shorts again, driving him closer to the edge. "Oh... sleep huh? I don't--no sleep," he whispered when he felt her lips against his throat truly making it hard for him to think straight. "I think we need to not sleep so much," he sighed before letting his own hand dig into her scalp, not harshly but just soft enough to get her attention. Once he looked at her, he only took a second before leaning his head up to kiss her softly, reminding her that he was in this for the long haul.

Diya chuckled softly only to have the sound swallowed by Aarav's lips; she truly found it adorable whenever he lost his train of thought. It made Diya feel desirable, as if Aarav wanted her so much he couldn't think properly. It did wonders for Diya's ego, as did the way he was kissing her. Her hands moved from the sides to hold his face in her hands, wanting to deepen the kiss as she bent (in a very awkward position if she could say) down further, wanting to feel EVERYTHING. She hadn't expected this - not the kiss - to feel so good; she hadn't expected for somebody to put her first. Not only that, but to reassure her at every step he wouldn't be leaving. It was almost as if Aarav could read her mind, almost as if he were attuned to her every emotion, to her every thought, every feeling. She broke away from the kiss, lifting up her (his) shirt and tossing it to some far corner, before kissing him again.

Aarav couldn't help the rather crooked grin on his face when he watched her take off her shirt and allowing him to feel every inch of her skin to his heart's desire. She really had NOidea of the effect she had on him and perhaps that's what made it better because she too was then surprised by just how wild she could drive him. He was kissing her again, allowing himself to grip onto the back of her neck to deepen it before pushing her gently off him so that they were both on their sides. It was a lazy weekend morning and Aarav wanted to take things as slow as he possibly could, wanting to show her that he'd definitely picked up some things from her and knew just how to drive her as wild as she constantly drove him. His fingers rested against her waist, his pinky rubbing against the hem of her underwear before he gently slipped his fingers underneath and rubbed her skin, watching her lean towards him ever so slightly.

Diya had let out a whine when he'd pushed her off of him, just when she was ready to go at it, only for the sound to die in her throat at the feeling of his fingers tracing the edge of her hipbone. She arched into his touch, her kisses growing a little more FRAZZLED. Each part of her skin he touched grew heated and a moan escaped her throat, her lips parting ever so slightly as she moved closer to Aarav. She didn't remember him ever being able to do that. Diya shut her eyes, remembering the issue of Cosmo UK she'd seen hidden under his side of the mattress and wondered if he'd been reading her subscription. She'd played it off then, deciding she was being stupid, but now as his fingers crooked at the right spot and another single moan of his name ripped from her throat - Diya was beginning to doubt her previous instincts.

Aarav knew that his reading skills would pay off someday. Of course, the reading skills had been developed after being cooped up in his tiny room for hours on end, but thanks to that--he developed a very high reading score, being able to read almost twice as fast as most people, and having almost photographic memory, all skills he seldom told anyone. Because most would want to know where it came from and that wasn't exactly a story he was fond of sharing. But reading through Diya's Cosmo and his own magazines were helping significantly because while he'd doubted it all before, things were seeming to fall into place and almost everything he read was coming true. She looked so completely ready and driving her to the edge rather than thinking about his own needs, was only spurring him on as well--something he hadn't quite anticipated this quickly.

Diya at this point was a bundle of nerves, and incoherent mumbles and moans. So when she felt her thighs start to shake, the sensation spreading through her veins, her toes curling as she let out a soft breath of Aarav's name, falling back into the bed. Of all the things to happen this morning, Diya hadn't been expecting what JUST happened. She let out another soft whimper, feeling the after effects roll off of her in waves and she turned her head to look at Aarav, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. "That was—I'm—" Diya cut herself off before turning on her side once more, cupping his cheeks as she met his lips in another bruising kiss. Every part of her felt A L I V E, as if Aarav's touch had reignited her sleeping nerves, as if she had been asleep this entire time until he'd touched her. She didn't understand it, didn't understand how her head was still spinning from the high she'd been on moments ago.

Aarav felt accomplished. There was really no other better explanation for it. He knew what Diya had been craving even if she'd NEVER complained about his skill or lack thereof. And he'd gotten it for her finally. Aarav knew she was still reeling from the feeling when he felt her kiss because it felt almost as if exhaustion was seeping into it. He loved knowing that he could finally do that to her. The first time they'd been together--at least Diya had admitted it after, was lackluster. Perhaps their coming together was good, but the actual act--could've been much better. So Aarav had read different articles and searched about different ways to please HER. Needless to say, the results he'd gotten had most definitely paid off. He tugged on her bottom lip gently with his teeth before grinning at her, "Yes? That was--?" But really he didn't need an answer and Diya knew it too. He was just pleased to see how crazy he could drive her.

Diya grumbled under her breath about how he was getting cocky already, but she knew it was justified. Diya had never felt like that before, but then again - her sexual experience prior to Aarav consisted of a sexist pig of a boyfriend; not really much to go by. "Amazing," she answered anyway, even though they both knew he could tell in the way her body was relaxed, satisfied. She shifted closer to him, fingers trailing down his side as if she were playing the piano on his ribs and gave him a knowing grin. "Cosmo, August Issue right?" There was a teasing note in her voice as she shuffled even closer to press a kiss to his nose. She loved that about him, loved how he was so INVOLVED, it made her feel as if she weren't the only one invested in the relationship. She hadn't expected him to do something about her complaints, in fact she'd resigned herself to the fact he wouldn't. It was a well known fact, well enough for magazines to state it often. Diya grinned at him once more, feeling her heart burst with a strange warmth; one she'd never felt before.

Aarav only laughed when he heard her grumble, before pulling her closer while she shifted herself. He nodded at her answer, because well, given how loudly she'd said his name--he knew it couldn't be anything short of amazing. The best part for Aarav though was that he'd never believed he'd get anyone--let alone Diya, to feel this way. He thought he would remain incredibly inexperienced and screw up every possible relationship. But now--with Diya, a) he knew he was good at what he did and b) he didn't want any other relationships. He felt her fingers tapping against his chest and looked at her right when she spoke, making him wince a bit before lowering his gaze. "Maybe?" He chuckled before speaking. "I wanted to do something that would please you," his lips were on her forehead once more before he looked down at her and shrugged. "Was I just being stupid?"

Diya shook her head when he looked down, averting his gaze. Her fingers hooked under his chin as she lifted his head up once again. "That's the sweetest thing you've ever done for me," she murmured, before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. "I mean—aside from LOVING me, it's the sweetest thing you've done." Her voice was soft, because she was in disbelief. Disbelief that despite what he'd gone through, Aarav Roy was filled with so much love; he was so eager to make others happy; he was okay with sacrificing his happiness for others. Although that last one was a symptom in abuse survivors. Diya wondered sometimes if she could get him to speak to a therapist; not to get her wrong, she loved that he could talk to her. Sometimes, Diya wondered if a specialist would be able to help him. He tried to downplay it but she knew when he'd wake up with nightmares, when he'd spent ages in the living room just pacing so he could get the voices, the monsters out of his head. In those moments Diya Mehra wanted nothing more than to go down to Delhi and give Chandini Roy what she deserved. She couldn't do that, so she settled for getting out of bed, her steps sluggish, yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she found Aarav on the couch and curled up next to him until he'd fall asleep once again.

Aarav heard her words before finding his smile growing slightly. "I--I just want you to feel special, because well--mere liye tum ho, bahot special." He felt her lips against his own once more and smiled at her words even more, because this beautiful girl in front of him, truly had no idea the type of effect she had on him; and so many others around campus as he'd noticed. But none of that mattered because Diya had made her choice and the fact that she'd moved in, and was with him in EVERY possible way, showed that to everyone else. It was unreal to him often, and those were the times he'd wake up and see her there in bed with him--and hold her tighter, careful not to wake her. Aarav was terrified that one day he'd wake up and she wouldn't be there anymore. That's why even earlier today until he heard the noise from outside the bedroom--he'd been ready to have an anxiety attack. Living without Diya was something he didn't even want to think about anymore.

Diya stared at Aarav's phone, still reeling from the phone call she had gotten. She hadn't even known he'd left his phone at home before going to practice but there it was on the dining table, attached to the charging socket. She hadn't expected it to ring, and her hands shook as she answered the call, expecting the worst. She sat on the couch now, staring at the BlackBerry. A phone that was now silent against the table, she wished it had never rang, knowing the words would eat at her. She knew whenever Aarav came home this would turn into a fight. The door creaked and Diya's arms wrapped around her middle as she stared down at her Criminal Psychology notes. It was the only elective she was taking this term, an elective that actually took more of her time (and a lot of her interest) than her required theatre courses. Maybe if she just avoided the entire situation, it would never come up.

Aarav had never been quite so late to practice before but the thing was--he hadn't even WANTED to go. He'd been planning on skipping but then he'd realize that he'd feel too much guilt for making his other members work when he wasn't there and so he'd gone in a very crazy rush. And it was only on his way back, that he felt around for his phone, only to realize he didn't have it. A part of him hoped he'd just left it back at his place because he really did not want to lose it, not when he knew how much it would cost to get a replacement especially here in London. He'd made it back to the apartment soon enough, his keycard thankfully with him as he entered the home he shared with Diya, only to notice her on the couch, holding herself as if she could shield herself from the readings she had to do. He made his way to her and leaned down quickly, pressing his lips against her cheek. "Hey, did I leave my--oh thank god. I was thinking I lost my phone," he chuckled before reaching for it, to go through the notifications when he caught one of the calls, that had been answered. "Diya, tune--mera phone uthaya tha?" His voice was low, almost as if he was in disbelief because she knew he'd been avoiding calls from home the best he could. He only spoke to Rohan and that was because he was Aarav's best friend. Otherwise, Aarav did NOT want to speak to anyone, wanting to free himself from the hold those bad memories had on him still.

Diya in all her years of knowing Aarav Roy, she had never heard his voice so low, almost THREATENING. She almost didn't want to tell him she'd answered his phone; she almost wanted to fish out her bra from her dress; she wanted to distract him from the fight she could feeling coming right on this couch. Except Diya wasn't that person; she knew she couldn't do that. She could never lie to Aarav. A soft exhale. The unfurling of fingers. The loosening of rigid shoulders. "I did." She said nothing further, feeling as if this were some criminal investigation and Diya had done nothing wrong. She understood avoiding calls from Jai, from Chandini, from Anisha but not from Suraj Roy. From what Diya had gathered, his father really DID care about Aarav; in fact, the man was in London; he wanted to see his son. From what Diya remembered of the conversation, he wanted to apologize for being an absent father. In that conversation alone, Diya saw a man who had regrets, a man who wanted to fix his wrongs. But something told her, Aarav wouldn't understand.

Aarav shut his eyes at her admission. He knew she might have felt as if because she'd met his so-called family back home, that she was entitled to speak to them but the moment Aarav had stepped on that place in at the Indira Gandhi International Airport, he cut EVERY tie he had with his family. He didn't want their support, he didn't want their criticism. Aarav just didn't want anything to do with them. He continued staring at the name in his phone, wondering what her first reaction might've been to see it saying Suraj Roy and not something like Papa, but he wasn't that for Aarav. He was just the man who'd given him his genes--and that was it. A father was supposed to protect his children and Suraj had NEVER done that. "Why?" The question was simple and Aarav knew that it was better to use fewer words, and to really process before he spoke. This was Diya and he loved her, he didn't want anything he said in a fit of anger and hurt to ruin things between them. "Why did you answer it?"

Diya inhaled, a sharp noise at the way Aarav shut his eyes. She tried NOT to flinch when he asked her why. She could hear the reverberation of his vocal chords, heard the barely concealed anger and wanted to run away. She couldn't handle this fight; she couldn't handle him being angry at her. "I just — He rang more than once." Diya hadn't answered the first time, something Aarav would have seen if he scrolled through all his notifications. Except he'd rang a second time, and Diya's fingers itched; her heart reminded her of what Suraj Roy was like back in Delhi — on the rare occasions the man was home. She'd seen the way his eyes would follow Aarav whenever he was in the room, as if he were some guardian angel, watching from afar but unable to do anything. She wondered if Aarav even knew, it was his mother who pulled the strings around the house. She wondered if Aarav knew Diya had witnesssed arguments between Suraj and Chandini, R E G A R D I N G Aarav; his father always took his side. It didn't matter that the man always lost to Chandini Roy and her megalomania; it mattered that he cared.

Aarav didn't know what to say to her. He really didn't. It didn't matter if Suraj Roy had called six times, the point was--Diya knew how he felt. And so she'd almost--betrayed him by picking up the call. "But he--you didn't need to pick up. He'd leave a message." Except Aarav knew he wouldn't call the other man back. There were a lot of messages from both his parents that he hadn't bothered to return and a part of him knew that as an adult it wasn't fair to act out this way, but he hadn't felt like he had a choice. He was FINALLY away from them--there was no way he wanted to get sucked back in like this. "I don't--" he didn't want to fight with Diya and he could tell from the way she was responding to him that she was being defensive too and maybe..just maybe Aarav did not have the right to get upset with her and so he would keep it internal. Not letting her witness any of it, when he knew it would only hurt her was the right thing to do. He picked up his phone and walked into the bedroom, his dance clothes bag left on the floor by the door as he moved around the bedroom looking for fresh clothes so he could go shower. He just--wanted to distract himself, but more than anything--he wanted this strange ache to go away. It was happening not because his father had called--but because of how Diya and him were behaving. This wasn't them.

Diya shut her eyes when he disappeared into the bedroom. She knew she shouldn't follow him in there; she knew she should just let him cool off. It was the smart thing to do; it was the right thing to do. Except Diya couldn't. She couldn't just leave things the way he had LEFT them. This conversation alone had left a strange ache in her heart; it came quietly, wrapping her around her heart so tight — it felt like the organ would pop right out of its cage. She could feel her chest constricting, could feel it getting harder to breathe and that sinister feeling was back. The chill spread through her slowly once more, blood in her veins freezing over. It made her feel E M P T Y to her very core. A feeling she'd never felt before. She needed to fix this; Diya had to. Her footsteps were soft, they were quick as she entered the bathroom. The noise of the water hitting tiles was loud but lucky (or perhaps unlucky?) for both Diya and Aarav, they knew she was louder. "He wants to see you for dinner. JUST him."

Aarav had just taken off his clothing and entered the shower when he'd heard the bedroom door creak open. It was a creak he'd been meaning to get around to fixing but now he was glad he hadn't--at least it alerted him to her getting closer. He'd turned on the water then, just as he saw her shadow enter the bathroom. Her words were clear and he was wishing once more that she hadn't said them. Why did his father want to meet him for dinner? What was that going to accomplish? So his father was here on business, he traveled everywhere--leaving Aarav alone with his abusive siblings and mother. What was he going to do now by being here? "Toh?" His voice was louder because he wanted her to hear him but he also wished they weren't having a fight right now. He'd wanted to grab her in, watch her shocked face change from that to a long of want, as her clothes got drenched while he kissed her softly before deepening it. But right now--his anger was still too close to the surface, an anger that scared even him. "I don't want to see him, ever again.."

Diya should have known it would be impossible to get through to him. She had expected it. She would be surprised if he'd given in; what his family had put him through — nobody should have to go through that. Diya was only now realizing what her actions must have meant to him. Only now did she realize he must have thought of this as a betrayal. She said nothing, feeling the panic rise up her throat. It was a strange feeling. It was almost as if the emotion had taken on a corporeal form; she could feel it's hands around her neck, choking her, KILLING her. Diya cleared her throat, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her jaw trembled as she gathered the courage to say what she needed to. He may have felt betrayed, but he needed to know that his father at least deserved a second chance. "He loves you. When he was home — at those family dinners? His eyes wouldn't leave you, not once. He fought with your mother for you, wanting to know why you were..." Diya shut her eyes, leaning against the now shut door, arms crossed. "He carries a picture of you in his wallet. A baby one, of him and you. You're the only one in his walllet." Diya said nothing more, choosing instead to exit the bathroom. She wasn't sure she could handle a fight right now.

Aarav stood there, letting the water pour down on him as he kept his head down, waiting for her to say something. He knew the conversation wasn't over. Because if it was...and he continued to feel this broken inside--he was T E R R I F I E D because it felt like being back home. Being trapped in a place where there was no way out. He didn't want that anymore. He couldn't be like this anymore. Still, he watched her shadow through the frosted glass as she spoke, his eyes on her almost defeated looking form. But once her words came out--he couldn't focus on anything else. How was she sure about any of this? And why on earth would Suraj Roy fight with Chandini for him? That woman, that vile woman was his lifeline, and Aarav had seen evidence of that first hand every single year of his life. None of that had changed, perhaps Diya was just mistaken. But once she left the bathroom, he stayed there for another five minutes, going over everything she'd just told him, surprised at how she was so adamant that Suraj Roy wasn't the father Aarav remembered him to be. Once he was finished, he wrapped the towel around his waist and exited the bathroom, heading for the bed where his basketball shorts and t-shirt were. "What do you mean--why wouldn't he have the other--he always preferred them over me." Diya wasn't making any sense, that was it--there was no other explanation to any of this. "And--what did he fight with her with--kya jaan na tha unko? Hmm? Why his youngest son quivered every time someone came within a foot of him? Or why I barely spoke until I was forced to in the first standard? What does he want to know about me now?"

Diya flinched when Aarav spoke so callously of his past. She didn't even know these things he was HURLING at her. She didn't like it; Aarav had never been this way with her. He'd never been so vindictive. It felt like he wanted her to feel the same pain he'd gone through; it felt like he was threatening her into taking her words back. She shut her eyes then, burying her face in her hands, letting out an incoherent mumble before she looked up. "He didn't KNOW Aarav. I didn't even mean to hear! I was leaving your room — it was after midnight, I don't think they even knew I was there. He was asking about you, asking her why she had to raise her voice at you." How could Diya explain to him, his father although not innocent in his horrifying chidhood deserved a second chance. Perhaps the ONLY one out of all of them who deserved the second chance. "I don't know okay? I don't know why he only had a picture of you but I think... I think you should go meet him." Although something told Diya her opinion would mean squat to him. She rubbed at her eyes, surprised at the tears that threatened to fall. So she stood, pausing at the doorway to their bedroom. "I'll come with you if you want — just think about it, okay?" Diya slipped out of the bedroom, exiting to the balcony as she grabbed the packet of smokes she kept in her purse, lighting one up. She rarely smoked; the last time she'd done it was the night before she was to leave for London, the night before she left her entire life in Mumbai behind.

Aarav hated himself. He'd never despised himself the way he did right now at causing her this much pain. He could see her flinching and bury her face in her eyes for saying all the stuff he did and he couldn't believe he'd actually said it. He heard her explanation and tried to let it sit in his heart, allowing for it to seem reasonable until he heard her second sentence and frowned. Why did she want to put him through that? Didn't she realize how broken he was thanks to his family? Why would he go through that again. Meeting his father would only open all the wounds Aarav had tried to keep hidden and protected for so long. Aarav was about to ask her some more about what Diya was saying when he watched her leave the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, watching as she stepped out onto the balcony, lighting up a cigarette, a habit she'd told him she only went to when she was stressed--one she'd left behind in Mumbai. Another lie from someone he trusted with his whole heart. Except her offer to come with him was still ringing in his head and he knew that was possibly the only way he'd get through it. With slow steps, he joined her on the balcony, "I thought you stopped.." he whispered before nodding at the little stick she clutched between her middle finger and her index.

Diya crushed the cigarette between her fingers, clenching her jaw when the embers dug into her palm. There would be BURNS the next morning she knew, or maybe even a few hours later but Diya didn't care. She should have known her involvement in his past life would only irk him, it would only create a rift between them; something Diya had never wanted. She finally opened her fist, letting the last of the ashes fall from her palm and onto the balcony tiles before looking up at him. "I have." She offered no explanation, she offered no apology; this wasn't her. Diya knew it wasn't her. The Diya from before this fight would reassure Aarav, would hold him tightly, would smile brightly and ask if he wanted to go out for dinner tonight. Then again, the Aarav in front of her wasn't her Aarav either. She crossed her arms then, leaning her back against the railings, shoulders stiff. "Why? Why don't you want to see your father? Don't you think out of all of the members of your family, HE is the only one who deserves a second chance?" An eyebrow raise. A downward drawing of her lips as she waited for him to challenge her, a challenge she knew was coming. It was unhealthy to keep such grudges, especially against mostly blameless people. It would only hurt Aarav in the long run, not that he would understand that. So Diya wouldn't mention it.

Aarav looked at her in surprise at the way she'd crushed the cigarette in her fingers, allowing the lit part to touch them and effectively burn her. He reached forward for a second before watching her open her hand and allow the ashes to fall. He knew she wouldn't want his touch right now. She was upset with him because she didn't get it. Except for her words--the way she reacted, it told him clearly that he'd completely screwed up everything with her. Diya never used to react like this with him but truly--Aarav deserved it. He shut his eyes and nodded, moving back towards the door, understanding that right now she didn't want to be around him. But then she spoke and he was forced to remain there, to listen to her questions and to give her answers. "I don't want to see him because he watched okay? He watched what Jai would do to me, and he'd smile as if that was normal sibling behavior. He never once came to see me up in my sorry excuse of a bedroom, he never wanted to spend time with me then--toh ab main kyun karoon?" And Aarav knew he was holding onto grudges that wouldn't help him but he was just so hurt by his family, by all of them that it didn't matter who tried. "Maybe he does, and maybe the only way I can move past this--is if I do, but it's obvious that once again--my family, my past, is ruining my present and my future." He shrugged before returning back into the apartment, knowing that she was probably very upset with him if she was smoking again and reacting and speaking to him in that way. The thing was--he thought she understood.

Diya watched him leave, her gaze on his back as he disappeared into the bedroom. This was a fight. THIS was what a fight felt like; she'd never experienced once with Aarav before. Everything had been so smooth sailing; even the conversation about Veer, something she'd expected to blow up... hadn't. Maybe this was the payback; maybe this was the BIG ONE. Except Diya didn't want it to be, she wanted to fix it. Aarav wouldn't listen, not when he thought she'd betrayed him but she hadn't. She understood, she knew why he didn't want to and she sympathized. He was the one who didn't understand. He didn't understand she was doing this for his benefit. Holding so many grudges would only make him bitter at the end of the day; Diya had seen Aarav for who he really was. She didn't want this dark cloud to dampen the sun that shone in his chest. That was the last thing Diya wanted so she entered the apartment again, picking up her own phone. She'd given her number to Suraj Roy; if Aarav didn't want to see his father, Diya would hear what he had to say for Aarav.

Aarav lay there on his bed, staring up the ceiling, listening for sounds of her having come back in and waiting for her to come to the bedroom--but he never heard her footsteps. How was he supposed to tell her that for so many years--knowing his father wanted to talk to him, to see him had been ALL Aarav wanted. He idolized the man until things starting being laid out in front of him when he began to realize how little the man cared for him. Still, back when he was younger--even if his father called out to him, Aarav would've been there, standing tall wanting to make him proud. But now-now things were different. He'd wanted to see him, of course, he had, he'd wanted to hold onto Diya's hand and tell his father that she was the person who helped him recover, she was the one who stood by his side--but now--he knew that was turning into more of an impossibility. And that's why he lay there awake the entire night, unable to sleep knowing they were both hurting and he'd caused her to be upset. He hated that.

Diya couldn't go through with it. She couldn't meet Suraj Roy alone, not withou Aarav; not without feeling as if she were betraying his trust. She'd sent him a text, fingers clacking away on her Blackberry as she sat on the Tube: I'm sorry, maybe some other time. He'd replied just as quick, informing Diya he would be in London for another week if either she or Aarav changed their minds. She hadn't gone home though, the soles of her shoes slowly wearing out as she walked the cobbled streets of London. She paused outside The Globe Theatre, wanting to go inside. It was INSANE. It was past midnight; the space was closed and sneaking in would be dangerous. Especially if she got caught. When had she become this cautious girl? What happened to the girl who'd flashed the Maths teacher to get Veer Singhania out of detention? Had she left everything about herself back in Mumbai? Diya refused to believe it, grasping at straws to clutch at the girl she used to be. The girl she used to be in Mumbai wouldn't have given up so easily with Aarav; she would have fought. It seemed like ever since she'd moved to London, she'd learned to self destruct. Perhaps sneaking into The Globe would solidify that. "Is there anybody we can call?" Diya looked up from where she sat in handcuffs, the metal bench cool against her low waisted denim. "Aarav Roy." They were letting her off with a warning; especially since they'd caught her sitting on the stage, crying. Not exactly ADVENTUROUS Diya, but it was a start.

Aarav had watched that evening how Diya had left, neither of them had spoken since the night before. This was supposed to be their haven and now it was turning into something else entirely. Aarav hated it, and he especially hated knowing it was all his fault. Still, he watched her leave, refusing to say anything aware that he'd only upset her. But she hadn't told him anything and it killed him to know what he'd caused to happen. Still, he stayed awake, waiting for her to return home, checking the time every five minutes, aware that it wasn't going to make her come home any quicker. As the night grew darker though, his worry intensified and every single call he made to her--ended up going to voicemail which only made him feel as if she'd done it--she'd actually WALKED out of his life. It led him to believe that he was so far gone--that no one would ever want to even try with him and he was just gone beyond repair. A lot of things floated around in his mind, things he didn't want to pay any attention to until his landline rang. No one called the landline, but he reached for it, and answered it, "Hello? Yes, this is Aarav Roy...what? Where is she?" And as soon as he had jotted down the address, he left his apartment, even forgetting a jacket as he walked thorugh the cold London night searching for a cab to take him to the local police station, knowing that tonight wasn't going to be ending peacefully any time soon.

Diya looked up when she heard the doors rattle, and managed a small smile at Aarav. She lifted her hand (by default the other raised too, because of the handcuffs) and gave him a tiny wave. "You came!" She could tell he was mad; she understood it too; Conservative Diya was mad at her too. It was no fun living in Diya's head, considering the war that was occuring in there right now. Instead she only looked back down, watching the police officer undo her handcuffs as she stood. They would fight when they got home; Diya was sure of it. So she took advantage of the moment, slotting herself into Aarav's side, her fingers curling around his bicep before she paused. "You're going to get hypothermia," was her soft mumble before she took off the hoodie she'd thrown on, pressing it into his hands - realizing only later that it was AARAV'S hoodie to begin with.

Aarav stared at the handcuffs around her wrists, surprised and a bit disappointed that she'd landed herself in this type of situation. Of course hearing the happiness and glee in her voice, did nothing to convince him that she WASN'T out drinking somewhere when she'd gotten arrested. He signed the papers handed to him by the officer on duty and watched her step out of the holding cell they'd kept her in for now. Before he could even say anything, he felt the familiar warmth of the way she'd always ease into his side. It warmed his heart before he realized how they both were with one another right now. Still, he watched her strip off her hoodie and hand it to him only to have him shake his head once he got her light layers underneath. "Tumhe zyaada zarooraat hai, bahar bahot thand hai," and seeing as Diya was only used to Mumbai winters, she would need as many layers as they could get on her. He found the cab he'd taken still waiting and was incredibly thankful because finding another one right now would be a nightmare. Aarav led her into it, almost pausing as if he was going to choose to sit in the front with the driver until he slid in behind her, choosing to stare at the road ahead, while his one hand rested right near her own, still unsure of whether or not he could grip it.

Diya watched the way he struggled with a seating plan before sliding into the spot next to her in the backseat of the cab. She wasn't like him; she couldn't stare ahead at the road, pretending nothing was wrong. She stared at him, watching how the light from the streetlamp flickered against his cheekbones, shadows dancing along his skin. It was then she glanced down at his hand before taking it in hers. "I shouldn't have forced you." Sitting in that theatre by herself had given Diya some time to think, to realize what she'd done wrong. She never should have answered the phone; even if she had, she never should have taken Suraj Roy's side. To Aarav, that was as good as Diya taking Chandini, Jai and Anisha's side - taking the side of Aarav's abusers. She gripped his hand tightly, clutching it. "He said he'd be here another week but I can call him... Tell him you don't want to see him." He didn't even have to talk to Suraj Roy if he didn't want to; Diya would do it all; she just wanted him to look at her again, to speak to her again. Sure he was doing those things, but they weren't him. This wasn't THEM.

Aarav felt her hand grip his own and didn't if he hid it from her well enough but he'd taken a very large obvious sigh of relief because she still wanted to touch him, she still wanted to be near enough to him. But he didn't say anything--choosing to wait for her to speak. But when she did, he really had to be truthful and admit how he hadn't expected to hear those words come out of her mouth. Why was she telling him that she was wrong? Aarav was the wrong one. He'd reacted terribly and had gotten all upset for no good reason and it wasn't at all fair to her. But when he listened to her second sentence, about his father, he looked at her once more before holding her cheek with his other hand, needing them to go back to being aarav&diya. "I want to, but you--you have to be there. Main akela nahi mil sakhta unhone.." he whispered before leaning in to press his lips against her forehead, needing for her to also understand how sorry he was for what had happened between them in the last 24 hours.

Diya felt a smile poke at her lips when he kissed her forehead. It felt as if they were finally back to being who they were; it felt as if the dark cloud storming over their relationship had given up. She hoped it would stay away from them forever. Or even if it didn't, Diya now knew they were strong enough to weather anything - HELL OR HIGH WATER. She may not have had faith in a lot of things, but she had faith in them, in their relationship; in their willingness to make it work; in their love. Diya didn't want anything else, not when she had Aarav. "Of course," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder like she'd wanted to do since this cab ride had started. He hadn't asked her why she had been arrested, and Diya wouldn't tell him either - not until he asked. It was stupid either way. Who got arrested for breaking into a theatre and crying? Diya Mehra, that's who. Guess it really was true; dramatics were imbedded in her blood.

Aarav sighed when he felt her rest her head against his shoulder as if they were attempting to push away the lines of poison ivy that had woven around both their hearts. It made him ache when they weren't talking and when they weren't around each other. But there were more pressing things now for him to ask. The moment she'd snuggled up to him in the police station itself, he'd known that she hadn't been drinking because he couldn't smell any alcohol on her, but then why had she been arrested. Of course, this wasn't a topic he wanted to touch while they were in the cab, knowing that the driver would be listening in and making his own presumptions. For all he knew, Diya was interning there and Aarav was on his way to pick her up. Neither of them looked the type to get arrested after all. However the moment they paid the fare and let the driver go, he reached for her hand and led her into the building. "So--jail mein kyun bulaya tha mujhe? Kya kiya tha tune?" he smiled before shaking his head as they entered the elevator, waiting to hear just what Diya had gotten up to tonight.

Diya goraned when he mentioned her jail escapades and buried her head in her hands the second the elevator doors closed on them. "I broke into The Globe Theatre." She wouldn't tell him she cried, that was too HUMILIATING even for her boyfriend's ears. She curled into his side once more, playing with the edge of the hoodie she wore. "I never wanted to fight," she mumbled, not wanting to meet his eyes. It wasn't one of her finer moments that was for sure, and the more she thought about it - the more Diya realized she was the one in the wrong, not Aarav. She needed to be supportive as a girlfriend, and Diya knew what he'd gone through, she'd seen the scars of his back - how had she EVER thought of supporting a single member of a family who had done that to him?

Aarav heard her quite confession and ended up laughing lightly, only because his worst thoughts had led him to believe some very disturbing things that could've possibly landed her in jail. This was much better. He smiled as she curled into him and shook his head. "You're adorable, pata hai na tujhe?" But then he heard her quiet words and sighed before holding her at a distance so that she was forced to look up at him. "Neither did I, I don't even know ke hum kaise.. I'm so sorry Diya, that I reacted like that." He only led her out of the elevator when it opened to their floor. "I know ke tum--Papa ka jo bol rahi thi--woh galat nahi tha, but for me--he's still part of THAT place, you know?"

Diya nodded, biting down on her bottom lip. "I know, I'm sorry for pushing you," she murmured, taking out her own copy of his keycard as she swiped it against the slot. She wondered how they would do this when his flatmate came in the spring term, which was only a few short weeks away. Diya knew it meant she could no longer walk around the space in just Aarav's shirt. Nor could they choose to have sex wherever they wished. Part of Diya hoped his flatmate would request a transfer, either that or just drop out of the college - she didn't think she wanted to go back to living in her own space. Or maybe they could shift their living to hers. But that was too much work, especially since eighty percent of Diya's things were at Aarav's and she really was in NO mood to shift that all back. Shutting the door behind them, Diya placed the hoodie on a hook, moving into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.

Aarav nodded at her apology, knowing that it was genuine and perhaps he was the one who was wrong in getting quite so worked up over something like this. He followed her in, knowing that once more she looked lost in thought which only had him curious especially given how he hadn't heard her voice in over 24 hours, not properly at least. Once he caught her moving to the kitchen he followed her there, leaning on the counter as he watched her. "Soch kya rahi ho? Talk na. I never realized how much I hate the quiet when you're not--being talkative and rambling about the craziest things." Other people might take this the wrong way but Diya knew he said this with love because her rambling and her talkative habits were just a few of the things he found most endearing about her.

Diya barked out a laugh at the words he spoke, at the compliment he hid in them and took a sip of her water. "Remember when we first became friends?" She'd chewed his ear off nonstop until he'd put his earphones in, which only hurt Diya's feelings (and her ego). Of course, she later realized she hadn't let Aarav get a word in edgewise; but back then, she had stomped back to her nani's house, proclaiming she would never speak to Aarav Roy ever again. Her hands rested against the granite of the countertop, feeling a shiver go down her spine as she hoisted herself up onto the hard surface. Her fingers remained curled around the (now empty) glass of water as she sighed, tension releasing her from its tight clutches, her shoulders slouching. "Things are going to change — when your flatmate arrives na?"

Aarav gave her a smile when she spoke about the first summer when they met. It had been strange, to say the least. They'd not spoken for the first two meetings and it was only when everything had gathered to watch some cricket match, that he'd ventured out into the backyard to see her perched up on the swings, obviously not caring about the match either. Some strange friendship her spurred from that moment and of course, she'd been EXTRA talkative back then, making him wonder why he'd bothered to shut her book and demand that she spoke to him instead of just sitting there. But it had sparked something within both of them which led them to this moment here. He stared at her when she spoke, unsure of what she meant until he realized and ended up coming closer to her, looking up at her with a small grin on his face. "Is that what's bothering you? Because--my flatmate apparently has decided to remain wherever he is, and they told me I get to keep this as my own room. Of course, un sabko nahi pata that I've already got myself a very nice roommate."

Diya raised an eyebrow at him, reaching for Aarav's hands as she tugged him closer to her before planting them against her thighs. "And you failed to mention this BECAUSE?" She wasn't mad, merely amused. If he'd only told her before, she wouldn't have been so stressed about it. She wouldn't have tried to cram as many 'sessions' as she — oh, that's why he'd said nothing. A corner of her lips upturned at the thought as she looped her arms around Aarav's neck, spreading her legs so she could pull him even closer to her. "You really did get an amazing roommate no?" Her voice was a whisper, said more to egg him on rather than achieve any real conversation. Diya wondered when her mother would call next. The last time she'd called Aarav had been doing that thing with his mouth and a frantic Diya had pressed the red button in her ecstasy filled haze. She knew she had to talk to Falak Mehra sooner or later; she'd opt for the latter option.

Aarav only chuckled at her reaction before allowing her to pull him in closer to her. "I just--didn't think it was important." He whispered before looking up at her when she'd tugged him incredibly close. He didn't know what she was thinking was going to happen especially considering it was past 2am, given that she'd only called at like 1:00am from the police station. But really--Aarav had missed her, and he'd just wanted to forget about college and everything else and HIBERNATE with her. "I love her," he murmured as he let his lips connect with their favourite place, her neck. He continued kissing her softly there, feeling her fingers tugging at the ends of his hair by his neck before he allowed himself to hoist her into his arms, waiting for her to wrap her legs completely around him; his dance was certainly helping him to develop more muscle strength as well as core strength.

Diya allowed herself to be lifted into Aarav's arms, as she wrapped her own legs around his waist, fingers playing with his hair. He'd gotten it cut before the break on Diya's insistence. As much as she liked the shaggy hair to braid, it was starting to give him the appearance of a hobo. Her own lips moved to his ear as she nipped gently at his earlobe, uttering a soft, "Good, because she loves you too." That was the truth; every single word of it. Diya had NEVER felt like this before; she'd never been so hopelessly, so irretrievably, so irrevocably in love with anybody. She was sure she would NEVER feel this way about anybody but Aarav. With him, even if they were standing in the most crowded place in the world (the fountain plaza in the centre of campus) — there was still a certain silence, a calm that settled on Diya's shoulders; it reassured her.

Aarav had to groan and shut his eyes for a few seconds when he felt her teeth at his ear. She knew how much that affected him and yet she risked the fact that he could drop her if she turned him on too much. Still, he continued his way to their bedroom, depositing her on the bed before he took a seat by her legs, slipping off his shirt before scooting up on the bed, his one hand at her waist as he pulled her over to him. Sometimes he didn't need to be kissing her and would be content in just--being with her. That's really how Aarav figured out the extent of his love. Because--never before had he felt so--taken by a person, but Diya made it happen. He sighed softly, his one hand sneaking under her shirt, rubbing small circles on her back before he spoke what was on his mind. "You'll call him tomorrow--we'll meet him? Together?" He whispered, aware that this meeting had the potential to RUIN whatever progress he'd made so far. But if Diya was confident, he'd go along with it.

Diya hummed a sigh of content when she felt his fingers against her back, rubbing circles. She'd found it comforted her greatly, in a way nothing had ever been able to comfort her before. She'd been crying a few weeks ago, inconsolably if she might add, because of a failed audition. Honestly, if anybody wanted to cast her as Paro in a remake of Devdas they should have just watched her sit on the balcony, hair flying, tears running down her cheeks. Aarav had come home then. He'd lifted her up in his arms (bridal style), carried her to bed and rubbed her back. Every time his fingers drew a circle into her skin, Diya felt another piece of her sadness, of her anger start to DISSIPATE. He had magic in his fingers; he held magic in his heart. There was no other explanation for it. She opened her eyes, just a slit at Aarav's words and yawned. Her hand reached for the comforter as she pulled it over them both and nodded. "Together."

Aarav was a nervous wreck. He had no idea what to wear, which was probably why he was still standing around in his towel, (and boxers) while staring at his closet. "Diya!" He needed her help, or he just needed for her to tell him what to put on. He wasn't trying to impress the man, but he wanted to seem like he was doing FINE without him or any of them in his life. He'd regretted saying yes to her last night but it was necessary for his own mind to get closure, or even for him to see whether or not Diya's words were right. Aarav took a deep breath before taking a seat on the bed, waiting for his already ready to go girlfriend to come in and hopefully help him out.

Diya could sense Aarav's nervous energies all the way from the bathroom. She'd sensed them this morning when he kissed her, and his shoulders remained stiff. She'd sensed them during lunch when he kept scraping the plate with his fork even though there was hardly a morsel of food left on the surface. She sensed it half an hour ago when he turned his entire closet upside down, searching for something to wear. Even now as she stood in the bathroom, adjusting her earrings in the mirror - she could feel him pacing the bedroom. Then he called her name, and the nervous energies seemed to die DOWN. She pushed the earring in her fourth (brand new) piercing in her helix. Diya enjoyed watching adults squirm at the different piercings she had, wanting to know why she'd do that to herself but never asking outright. "I kept your clothes already!" Except when Diya stepped out, she could see why he hadn't found them. He was sitting on the nice blue button down and denims she'd laid out for him. She'd thought maybe a blazer would be too much, and the restaurant Suraj had suggested was classy, to put it lightly.

Aarav looked at her when she stepped out of the bathroom and smiled, she looked incredible and he was so lucky to be walking in to battle with her on his arm. "I'm so glad you're coming with me," he whispered again before standing when he noticed her gesturing to the bed and saw the clothes she'd picked out for him. "Oh," he gave another nervous chuckle before letting the towel drop from his waist while he tugged on his jeans, not missing the way her eyes remained on him. "We can skip dinner--since you look like you've got some other plans," he murmured before raising an eyebrow aware that she'd chide him if he didn't stop looking for ways to get out of going tonight. Aarav looked down at the shirt before shrugging, "I don't know--you think this is nice enough. I mean--you know how Papa always dresses." And Aarav remembers as a young kid, wanting to wear those impeccable type of clothes too, but instead--he'd be swimming in Jai's hand me downs which were nearly always too big and baggy on him.

Diya raised an eyebrow at Aarav, bending down to pick up the towel he'd dropped and threw it at his head. "I know what you're trying to do Roy, knock it off!" They were going to this dinner for two reasons: a) she knew Suraj Roy was genuinely apologetic and wanted to work at a better relationship with his youngest, and b) if nothing else worked out, at least it would give Aarav a sense of closure. She nodded at what Aarav was saying, waiting for him to turn to her so she could button his shirt up properly. "I know, there's a blazer in the part of the closet you haven't demolished." She'd bought it last week when her mother's accountant Harish uncle had called to tell her he'd put some more money in Diya's bank account. She'd walked straight in Prada, and bought Aarav a cream blazer. She hadn't looked at the price, only waving the credit card in the snooty salesgirl's face. Her hands rested at his shoulders, smoothing down the outfit. "You look perfect, very suave," she murmured, thankful for the heels so she wouldn't need to reach up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Aarav laughed when she tossed his towel at his head before laying it on the drying rack while she spoke. She did know him too well, and truthfully he appreciated that so much. Because Diya was pretty much the only person who could call him out on anything and get away with it too. Mostly because--no one else knew Aarav the way she did. Still, he turned around to face her, watching as she began buttoning him up. A part of him was nostalgic for one moment he'd caught between his parents when he'd been about four. He'd tiptoed to their bedroom, the door had been open and he stood there watching his parents smile at one another, the way Suraj had been asking Chandini to do his tie for him. He remembered thinking that despite whatever neglect he'd felt--at least his parents loved each other. Of course, over the years--all those feelings had disappeared as well. "Ooh?" He moved to the still intact part of the closet and slipped on the cream blazer she'd spoken about before looking at her and frowning. "This was probably really expensive Diya," he whispered watching as she appreciated his entire look even though he knew she'd spent a ridiculous amount of money for one article of clothing.

Diya grumbled about how Aarav was no fun, the second he began complaining about the cost. She smoothed down the collar of his shirt before kissing him. If anything, her lips always managed to distract him from whatever he was worrying about. "Think of it as a late birthday present," she murmured, kissing him again, her arms wrapping around his neck before remembering she had bought him a present for his birthday. "Or an early one!" Diya grinned then, allowing Aarav to press her up against the shut closet door, momentarily uncaring if he smudged her lipstick. She'd gotten Aarav ready early because she KNEW he would have a last minute freakout; if this was his freakout, well at least it was a good stress-buster. Besides, lipstick wasn't exactly difficult to apply. A fact fifteen year old Diya would strongly disagree with.

Aarav shook his head when she kissed him again so that her lips landed on his jaw before he turned back and laughed at her words. She was crazy, but also incredible and that proved to be a pretty great combination where he was concerned. He turned her then, pushing her up against the door, his own lips following down her neck, feeling her pulse points throbbing every time he kissed them until he looked back up at her before kissing her again, a bit rougher than he normally was and it was because he needed to FORGET. There was so much pain still sitting in his heart, pain mixed with dread that he was terrified tonight was going to be another defining moment for him--he just didn't know if that was going to be in a good way or a B A D way.

Diya indulged in whatever fears Aarav was currently swimming in; allowed him to press his lips tightly to hers; she allowed him to hold her as if he were drowning. She let him do all these things because Diya KNEW exactly how difficult things would get once they arrived at the venue. Her phone buzzed and Diya slowly pushed Aarav away. She moved to the dresser, pulling out a tissue to wipe the corners of her mouth and reapply her lipstick. "It's probably your dad," she explained, her hands working at smoothing down the dress she wore. Diya, in all honesty, wasn't sure what she expected at this dinner. In fact, she wasn't sure she expected anything. The only thing she wanted was for Aarav to be happy, to get some closure. Maybe this meeting with his father would do exactly that.

Aarav stared at Diya when she shoved him slightly and pouted, before watching her go ahead and reply her lipstick. "I'm just going to kiss it off again," he warned silently before watching her get freshened up before they went ahead to see his father. "It probably is," he sighed before going up behind her and running his fingers through his hair once more. "I don't--you need to sit next to me," his worries were creeping up easily and he wasn't trying to hide them from Diya--not anymore. Not when she knew him and his fears well.

Diya nodded, catching Aarav's eye through his reflection. "Chalo bata diya, I was afraid I was going to have to sit on the floor or worse - in the kitchen." At the pout on Aarav's lips, Diya turned. Her hands cupped his cheeks as she looked him dead in the eyes; there was one thing Aarav Roy needed to know. It was how she wouldn't leave him; Diya had seen every part of him, and she loved him even MORE for all those broken parts; she loved everything about Aarav Roy. Nothing would make her leave him, not a crazy parent nor a mental breakdown. "I'll be right there, I promise." She reached up on her toes then, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Aarav frowned at her sarcasm. He knew she was just trying to ease his nerves, but right now it did nothing to help him. He was pouting when she turned and shook his head except that when she cupped his cheeks, he couldn't look anywhere but at her and sighed quietly knowing she was about to give him a little taste of the realism he so needed. "I know you will," he murmured, "but mera saath hi rehna, like sit on my side, and don't leave me to go to the bathroom or something. God knows what he'll end up saying when it's just the two of us." Of course, Aarav was exaggerating and mixing up his two parents because it was Chandini who had two faces: one for the public and one for just Aarav.

Diya pouted at Aarav's words as she held onto the edge of his blazer, trying to straighten that one part which was now somehow crumpled (probably because of their kisses a few minutes ago). "Not even to go to the bathroom?" Her voice raised towards the end and she raised an eyebrow to boot, before breaking into a grin. She kissed him once more, this time to assuage his nerves. Her hand rested against his cheek, thumb brushing against his skin. "I promise, I won't leave your side even for a minute." Diya paused then, before continuing, "But you also have to promise to give your dad a chance okay?"

Aarav shook his head, watching her smile before sighing when she kissed him, she always knew how to calm his nerves and he never realized how grateful he was to her for that. Once he felt her thumb at his skin, he leaned into her touch before nodding, "I--thank you," except at her next words--he knew he was caught in a trap of sorts. She needed him to do this, to trust his father and give him a chance, but she hadn't been there during his childhood--the three months of summer didn't exactly count but he'd also agreed to do this dinner so he could agree to this too. Aarav nodded, before taking her hand off his cheek and clutching it tightly, "I promise, but--if something happens, and I need to leave--don't stop me." And then before they could go off and make more promises--Aarav led her to the door, taking the initiative at actually getting ready to meet his father again.

Diya sat next to Aarav once they were shown to their table by the maître d' - to a table she hadn't expected. It was easily the most expensive piece of real estate in the restaurant, right next to the floor to ceiling windows, showcasing the best London had to offer. Diya's hand came down on Aarav's knee which was shaking so hard, she was afraid his skin would fall off from sheer dizziness. "Breathe," she murmured, her lips against his ear. Despite her better reasoning, Diya tugged gently on his earlobe with her teeth hoping that would be enough to calm him. She made no promises however, and kept her hand on Aarav's thigh, her free one flipping through the menu while they waited. At least Diya had practice with such restaurants; her mother always preferred fine dining to Diya's fast food restaurants. She'd learned to stomach the meals of the rich over time, but she wondered if Aarav had. If Aarav's family ever took him out to restaurants like this. The mother was obviously on her best behaviour when Diya was around, which even then was still terrible.

Aarav had been expecting to see Suraj Roy the moment they were shown their table but his father wasn't there and so Aarav took his seat, opting for the side against the window so that he wouldn't have to stand up to greet his father with a hug; a mere handshake would be enough. Still, he couldn't help the nerves that were still making him feel as if the walls were all closing in around him. He didn't know where this sudden claustrophobia was coming from but he could feel Diya's hand on his knee and sighed shakily before closing his eyes for a second when he felt her lips on his ear along with her teeth. He turned to face her, only to see her attention taken by the menu once more. He couldn't look at it right now, not when he had the sinking feeling that his father was going to be a complete no-show and stand them up. Except just as he was about to voice this concern to Diya, he heard his father's cheery voice. "Well if it isn't my boy?" Aarav shut his eyes for a second, wishing that his childhood self would stop beaming just because his father had said some term of endearment. "Hello Papa," he didn't introduce Diya however, seeing how she stood to give the man a hug, leaving his leg--and him if only for a second.

Diya stood to greet Suraj Roy with a smile, and perhaps even disarm him with a hug. "Uncle, how are you?" Diya sat back down with a flourish, smoothing the edges of her dress before nudging Aarav's knee with her own. She murmured a, "you promised you'd try," under her breath before giving Aarav's father another smile. She knew this had to be tough for Aarav; she wasn't taking away from that. Except Diya knew if Aarav just tried, he would see his father really did want to fix relations with his son. He would see that maybe Suraj Roy wasn't the villain Aarav had made him out to be since childhood. Diya really HOPED this would show Aarav, he didn't have to despise his family, at least one member of the family. Her hand rested on his thigh once more as she lifted her elbow to rest it against the table, pointing at different items on the menu, trying to capture Aarav's attention, trying to soothe his nerves in the most inconspicous manner she could manage. What Diya didn't see was the smile Suraj Roy wore at the sight of his son and Diya so close, so utterly in love.

Aarav nodded at her words, aware that she was right and he had promised her that he'd make the effort seeing as his father was certainly trying. Aarav had wanted to know why but this wasn't the time or place to ask, not when he knew it would only create more problems between them. And so he gave his father a smile, ignoring the thrill that ran through him when he caught Suraj Roy's beaming smile back. He averted his eyes once more, looking down at the menu items that Diya was showing him. He'd rarely been out to restaurants like these--and so any help he could get, was good. He bumped his head gently against Diya's when she made a little private joke before he smiled and looked up, not missing the look of sheer happiness on his father's face. "Aap--aap kaise hain? London kaise aana hua?"

Diya clutched Aarav's hand under the table when he began speaking to his father, when he began to make an effort to get to know the man who had sired him. She squeezed it gently before smiling down at the menu. Suraj Roy on the other hand, could not be happier. When Diya had called him there had been a certain fear in his chest, one that worried his son would want nothing to do with him. The ignored messages, and calls certainly made him think so. In fact, when his call had been picked up he'd been over the moon - until he realized it wasn't even his son on the line. "Main acha hoon. Woh thoda kaam tha, so I thought I'd see you too. You haven't been answering my calls ever since you left." Diya noted how he purposely didn't mention Chandini, and breathed out an inaudible sigh of relief; the mention of Aarav's mother could send this entire night into a downward spiral.

Aarav frowned when he heard his father's instant taunt about not answering his calls. He knew this would come up, he just hadn't expected it to be in the first FIVE sentences of the evening. Aarav looked down at Diya's hand holding his own tightly before he let his own hand dig into his hair. "I---I've been busy," he murmured quietly, super thankful when the waiter appeared to take their order. "Just a water for me thanks," he cleared his throat before watching his father and Diya act like they actually belonged in this world. Aarav may have been born into it--but he didn't feel like he belonged here, even back in Delhi. In fact, nothing felt right about that world--except for Diya and he thanked God every single day that he'd met her that day in her Nani's garden. "Baaki sab--kaise hai?" And he didn't ask about anyone specifically, aware that if his father spoke too much about them--he'd feel that same neglect again.

Diya frowned when she heard the soft voice Aarav spoke in. She recognized that voice, she would recognize it ANYWHERE. He was boarding himself up, closing himself off even before the night had began. She saw it in the way he stared at the menu, the way he'd deflated and only asked for a water, or even the way he was teasing and tugging at his hair. Diya didn't want him to get upset and so she squeezed his hand again, waiting for him to look at her before she gave him a tiny smile, reminding him she may have initiated this dinner but he didn't have to stay if it was getting to be too much. Suraj Roy watched this exchange with interest before clearing his throat, "They're fine but I want to talk about you. Tum kaise ho, beta? Do you like it here? Classes and all?" Maybe he was trying too hard; maybe he was trying to cram years of parenting into one evening, but his son would never realize how truly apologetic Suraj was for the way his wife had treated their youngest son. Even if he didn't know its full extent.

Aarav rubbed his shoulder with his free hand, finding the need to do something with his hands overwhelming. He could feel his father staring at him, and the strangest urge to just...CRY was bubbling in his chest. Diya's hands in his own were his main strength especially since he couldn't even feel like he deserved her support right now. He looked at her though, that smile on her face that told him he was allowed to leave. He'd asked her for that promise and she was willing to make good on it if he needed it. But before he could say anything or do anything, his father spoke and Aarav looked up to meet his gaze, surprised that Suraj Roy was actually interested in Aarav's life. "I like my classes, and London, well it gave me more than I expected," a gentle squeeze of Diya's hand before he looked at her and then back at his father. "I--I hope business is going well? Oh and I--I never thanked you for the plane ticket, it--thank you," he knew this wasn't how a normal father and son spoke, but Aarav really had no experience and was still unsure of how he should react or even what he should say.

Diya wondered if the sigh of relief she'd breathed out was too obvious. Except Suraj Roy was too busy smiling at his son as if he were the second coming of the Messiah, and Aarav — well he wore this strange look Diya had never seen on him before, but she wasn't worried. No, this was a good look; not one where she knew things were about to hit the fan. She remained silent, pretending her menu was interesting. She was only here to act as Aarav's moral support, and maybe steer conversation into a safer direction if need be. But it seemed like Suraj Roy was doing just fine on his own. "Don't thank me son, I didn't do it for a thank you. You're my son, of course I wanted to and I'm glad. You're in dance right? Scholarship pe?" Chandini had glossed over the details, and Suraj remembered Aarav being VAGUE when he'd asked for the plane ticket, when he'd asked for help with the payment of housing. Apparently his scholarship didn't cover housing costs. Suraj didn't mind; he was proud of his youngest, proud that Aarav was making a name for himself away from the family. Not like his elder son, Jai — who seemed content to be living off the family wealth, waiting for Suraj to put him in the family business too.

Aarav was surprised his father remembered that it was dance that brought Aarav to London, not to mention the details of the scholarship. He nodded before giving his father a tiny smile, somewhere still stunned that he remembered all this. "I am," he smiled before glancing at Diya, aware that he should offer for his father to see him in action, even though--he didn't think his father could extend his trip by another week. "I know, aapne kyun kiya, lekin mere liya-- it was very important." He swallowed before looking up at Suraj once more before shrugging. "I know ke shayad aap, you probably didn't want me to pursue something like this.." but instead of letting him continue, Aarav watched his father put his hand on his own free one that left him surprised. "I--" "Don't say things like this Aarav, I always only wanted you to do what your passion was in, you don't have to do something that anyone tells you to do." And Aarav was actually completely surprised before looking up at Diya, almost unsure about how he should react at this point.

Diya only grinned when Suraj Roy seemed to be getting closer to Aarav, and squinted when she realized Aarav too was slowly letting down his walls — or at least, unboarding a few of the wooden slabs he'd covered around his heart. So when Aarav turned to look at her, fear in his eyes Diya only smiled, giving him an encouraging nod. He was doing good, he was doing just fine on his own - in fact, he didn't really need Diya here. Except he wanted her here, and Diya wasn't a fool. She knew he'd placed most of his confidence in her, so if she left this facade of confidence too would disappear. She couldn't have that, not when it seemed like Aarav was finally making some progress with his father. Her hand remained on his thigh as her pasta was placed in front of her and Diya decided to focus on her plate (like she often did when food was involved).

Aarav hadn't realized when the transition had happened but he'd begun enjoying this time with his father. He could hear the genuineness in his voice and the lack of mention of everyone else back in Delhi helped profusely with Aarav's slow healing process. He could tell that a part of Suraj really did care about him, and when he whipped out his wallet to pay for the meal, even though Aarav had argued for a moment, his eyes fell on the only picture he could see. Aarav as a baby, protectively held by just Suraj. He couldn't help the small smile on his face at witnessing that, something Diya had told him about and gently squeezed her hand until he heard his father's words. "So how long have you two been together?" Aarav nearly choked on his water before clearing his throat, not aware that his father could be quite so direct. "A couple months actually," he finally answered, shrugging before shifting so that he was facing her slightly, "she's just--agar yeh na hoti, toh hum aise yahaan baat na kar rahe hote."

Diya giggled at the way Aarav seemed to choke on his drink, and her hand went to rest at his back, rubbing soothing circles. She smiled at Suraj Roy then. "Actually it'll be six months — in February." It may have seemed strange, how she and Aarav began dating almost exactly as soon as school had started in September, how they'd moved in with one another in November, or even how they'd spent the Christmas vacation together, holed up in his apartment. She knew the speech her mother would give: no self-respecting Indian girl would indulge in such shameless activities. Diya may have listened to it then, but being away from her mother allowed her to learn her mother's secrets in the industry (of her affair with Veer's father in particular). Her mother had no right to judge Diya for whatever she did. Diya's hand rested on Aarav's thigh, rubbing gently. "He's really wonderful— I love him very much." She said these words, looking at Aarav; she truly wanted him to know the extent of her feelings. How she would go to the ends of the Earth for him.

Aarav knew it was the way she was rubbing those comforting circles on his back that had him regain his ability to speak properly until he heard her words and smiled. He knew the exact date too, and intended on making it special for her, as special as he could because well, Diya--she was the most special of all and he knew she deserved the world. The only thing was, Aarav knew he'd do anything to ensure a smile was on her face at ALLtimes, never wanted to make her cry or sad. The recent fight they had was evidence of that because he'd almost felt like a shell of himself once more, one not meant for anything but cowering in a corner. Still, he smiled when she spoke, surprised at the way she was talking about him and in front of his father. Except then he turned and nodded as he looked at her. "I love you too, more than you know," he murmured before realizing that Suraj Roy was staring at them with a very happy smile on his face which had him almost embarrassed, not because of his feelings for Diya, but for professing them so vocally in front of his father who he was just starting to make amends with.

Diya truly had forgotten Suraj Roy was at the table when she heard the words that fell from Aarav's lips, and she let out a soft sigh, a romantic one at that. The kind of sigh the female protagonist would make in a romantic comedy when she sees the male protagonist and her main love interest for the first time. It was full of life, full of hope - full of LOVE. Her free hand raised to rest against his cheek, fingers thumbing against his skin as she leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose. The confession he made warmed corners of her heart Diya didn't even know existed. She didn't know anybody could feel this giddy; she didn't know this was how love truly felt like. Except now that she did, she knew she could never feel it for anybody else. She could never feel this for anybody who wasn't Aarav. Her love for him consumed Diya, it lived in every part of her; every pore; every fibre.

Aarav felt incredibly thankful that Diya was in his life, that Diya actually wanted this life with him. He knew they'd only spoken about long-term as a far-off dream, but he wanted ALL that and more with her. He wanted kids, he wanted a home, he wanted a life with her. He felt her hand against his cheek and smiled when she kissed his nose, and it was only when his father cleared his throat that Aarav realized why they didn't go out often with their friends, knowing the others got sick easily of the way Diya and Aarav behaved around one another. But it was better like that, than having them witness how they were when they were alone considering how easily heated it could get. "Thank you--for calling Papa," he smiled before standing up with Diya and moving towards the older man, giving him a short hug, until he felt Suraj pull him in once more, this time pulling Diya in as well to hug them both.

Diya squealed when she too was tugged into the family hug and leaned into Aarav's side, breathing in the cologne he wore. "Thank you for dinner uncle," she murmured, before slipping her hand into Aarav's once more as she looked up at him. "Chalein?" Except he wasn't looking at her; he was looking back at his father and Diya hid her smile with her free hand. "You can go talk to him. I'll wait right here." That was a promise; one Aarav should have been able to tell because it was. It was a promise that no matter what came in Aarav's life, no matter what tried to tear them apart Diya wouldn't let it. She wouldn't let anybody tear them apart because what she and Aarav had — it was special; it meant too much to give up so easily.

Aarav only smiled when he felt Diya come into his side when his father drew them both in. He knew how important it was for her to see that Aarav was truly giving his father a chance and he was. He knew that it would be hard, but perhaps it would become easier if Aarav actually tried to let his father in. He was looking at the man when he heard Diya's voice and winced before giving her a tiny smile. "I'll be right back," he promised quietly before moving towards his father, nodding at him and telling him quietly how much this meeting meant to him, and Aarav was being incredibly honest, something he HADN'T expected this quickly. "I--I'll call you, and I--main phone uthaonga--jab aap karenge..bas.." but he didn't have to complete his sentence since his father had a hand on his shoulder quickly before he smiled. "I'll make sure ke Chandini aas paas na ho." And it was as if Aarav truly felt like he had made a breakthrough because if his father understood how much his mother and siblings affected him, it meant this whole thing between them could be rectified. But soon the two of them made their way to where Diya waited and he took her in his arms before smiling and pressing his lips against her temple. "You were right."

Diya beamed at Aarav when he admitted she was right. "I'm always right, you just never believe me," she responded, pressing a kiss to his jaw as they exited the restaurant, flagging down a taxi. If Diya was being incredibly honest, she had been worried for tonight; she had been afraid Aarav Roy would not take kindly to his father. She worried he would rather spend his time at home, or maybe take the out he had asked for five minutes into the dinner. For a brief window in time it seemed like he was about to go through with that, until he hadn't. Until Suraj Roy had veered the conversation into an entirely different direction. She rested her hand in Aarav's thigh then, squeezing gently. They would be fine, he would see. If they'd managed to pull through with this; they could pull through with anything.

Aarav had just finished one of his finals and was drained. He'd been exhausted for the last three days considering how much he'd been studying, mainly because he'd needed to pass in order to keep his overall average up. He'd felt a bit bad about being so consumed by his studies for the first day but when he'd caught sight of Diya doing the same in the kitchen, he knew she was feeling the pressure as well. Aarav had one more exam left but he knew Diya was writing her last one tonight and so he'd planned something special for her. He couldn't cook, boiling water was EVEN difficult for him. But he'd ordered takeout from her favorite place and was waiting for it to arrive so he could basically set everything up, just to help her celebrate being done. Plus, his last exam was four days from today and it was a subject that he'd not need to devote too much attention to. He'd heard the doorbell and took the food from the delivery boy before taking it out in nice containers--making it seem like he'd cooked it himself. Truthfully, he was excited to see if she'd take the bait and actually think he had some culinary skills.

Diya found it quite amusing how they both needed to study in separate areas of the house so they weren't distracted. It was a good tactic, a smart tactic because whenever she was in the same space as Aarav, Diya found herself interested in studying other things. Things that wouldn't appear on any sort of exam, but things that made her feel GOOD, oh so good. Except the self imposed martial law she'd put would now come to an end. She'd just finished writing her last exam, arguably her toughest one. The last midterm Diya had given for History and Theory of Directing, she'd gotten a fifty two percent — the class average had been a seventy six percent. She didn't know what it was about the subject that made it so tough to study; she enjoyed the content; she enjoyed the classes. It was just when it came to writing answers, Diya felt her mind go blank. Not this time. She'd slaved over the books, over practice exams for days on end. Diya planned to make this exam her bitch and now that it was over, she just wanted to curl up in bed next to Aarav, and take a nice long nap. Preferably one that lasted FOUR days; at least then she'd wake up in a world where Aarav didn't consider sex a distraction from his classes. Sliding the keycard into its slot, she pushed the door open. "Aarav I'm h— what's all this?"

Aarav had only been smiling when he heard the door open, looking up from his phone where he had been setting the right music for tonight. "Hey," he whispered before moving towards the door, slipping his arms around her waist. "I missed you," he murmured before leaning down to press his lips against her cheek, taking her bag off her shoulder and letting it drop to the ground before he led her into the dining area. "Well, considering just how stressed you've been lately, I wanted to do something special for you now that all your exams are over," he murmured before raising his eyebrow. "Kaisa laga?" Of course, before Diya could say anything and answer him--he'd gotten a phone call, one from his father that thanks to their growing relationship--he actually answered it. "Haan Papa, no the exam went okay. Yeah, I just have one more in a few days--Haan," the entire time he was talking to his father though, his eyes remained on Diya; almost as if he hadn't seen her for days even though they still lived in the same apartment and slept in the same bed--he missed her around.

Diya led Aarav to the couch while he spoke on the phone with his father. She slouched into the furniture so her head could rest against his shoulder as her fingers played with his, listening to his converse with his father so politely. It made her wonder if an outsider looking in on the conversation would even be able to tell how up until a few months ago, Aarav had been estranged from the man he was speaking to with such interest on the phone now. She nudged him in the ribs when it seemed like the conversation would stretch out longer than they both had anticipated and decided to take some steps to reclaim his attention. Diya turned in his grip so she was now straddling his lap, lips against his neck while he spoke on the phone. It felt like ages since they'd even kissed — the finals were rough on everyone.

Aarav had NOT anticipated the conversation with his father going so long, nor had he anticipated that Diya would be trying to get his attention in such a distracting way. He groaned softly on the phone thanks to the way Diya was kissing his neck, it was driving him crazy and he really didn't even think they'd make it to dinner at the rate Diya was going. He'd seen her tired eyes and so he'd just assumed she'd want to sleep off her exhaustion but instead--she CLEARLY had other plans. "Uh Papa, I've got to go, koi darwaze pe hai." He laughed as soon as he hung up the phone, tossing it on the other couch before drawing her closer, his hands already beneath her shirt, palms flat against her back.

Diya raised an eyebrow at Aarav, looking up from where she was busy admiring her masterpiece along his neck. "Koi darwaze pe hai? Really?" She echoed, chuckling to herself before arching in towards Aarav when she felt his hands against her back. She pulled away, lifting her shirt off and tossing it behind the couch. Her fingers sank into his hair as she found Aarav's lips again. "Wait—" Her fingers rested against his lips in an attempt to stop him from coming closer and distracting her with his mouth. "Don't you have a final in a few days? I thought all this was too DISTRACTING for you..." There was an obvious taunt in her last sentence, one she wanted Aarav to feel as she rested her hand against his chest, eyebrows raised once more; almost challenging him to go against her words.

Aarav grumbled with a smile at her words, "don't make fun--aur kya kehta? He was going on and on about how happy he is with me and how proud he is. And yes, it was sweet--but I'd rather spend time with you." He murmured before raising his eyebrow at the way she quickly stripped out of her shirt and came close to him once more. Except when she froze and put a finger on his lips--he only shook his head. "Aye," he murmured before drawing her closer. "Stop it, you know very well that I'm not even worrying about the next final..now keep doing what you're doing," he whispered before feeling the heat from her hand seeping through the cotton of his t-shirt, making him crave her touch against his bare skin.

Diya only rolled her eyes at the explanation he gave her. She'd been about to buy into it too, wanting this since the month had began (they were nearing the end of April) when she caught sight of the food on the table. "Wait, you made dinner?" If there was one thing Diya Mehra loved above ALL ELSE, then it was food. It didn't even matter what kind of food; if she caught wind of any sort of meal, Diya would be there in an instant. She would even - hypothetically, theoretically - leave her boyfriend high and dry. Besides, she'd only had a Kit Kat bar this morning, too stressed out to eat anything before her big paper. As if on cue, her stomach growled and Diya reached for the bowl, placing it in her lap. The plates were left ignored as she dug her fork into the bowl, shoving a forkful of food into her mouth.

Aarav growled when he felt her get off of him to grab the food, even if he hadn't really made any of it. He didn't say it to her then, watching her go ahead and satisfy her hunger before he laughed and watched her go ahead and just take the full bowl of food and place it on her lap. "So--how's it?" He asked, before raising his eyebrow, and smiling as he waited for her to call him out on pretending that he'd slaved over the stove. Even Diya knew his exam had finished just about forty minutes before her own, so there was absolutely no way for him to go ahead and prepare the meal. Except even though she'd left him so frustrated--he found it amused to watch how food could seriously change her course of action. And his beautiful girlfriend, sat there in her ripped jeans and bra with a bowl of food in her lap.

Diya stared down at the bowl before looking up at Aarav once more, mouth full of noodles. "I think it's good, it would have been even better if you'd actually made it." Did Aarav really think he could slip one past Diya? They ordered from this place on the weekly, if there was anything Diya knew by heart - it was the menu of Mr. Wang's. The only decent Indo-Chinese place in all of London. She twirled some chowmein onto her fork before placing the utensil against Aarav's lips, waiting for him to take a bite. She appreciated what he had done for her; she loved him even more for it. This was what Diya looked forward to: coming home to have somebody waiting for you, somebody who cared for you, who lovedyou. Even now as she listened to her own internal monologue, Diya realized why their friends preferred to hang out with them separately. She and Aarav could get very involved in one another, forgetting the rest of the world in the process.

Aarav only laughed at her words especially because she was well aware of how horrendous their kitchen would be looking if he had in fact even TRIED to make it. "I'll try--one day, maybe I'll practice during the summer." Neither of them had spoken about summer vacation. Aarav knew his father wanted him to come home, but he'd vehemently been saying no because there was no way he'd handle seeing his mother and siblings again, aware that if he did--all the progress he'd made in the last year--would be for nothing. But he hadn't a clue about Diya's plans yet, although he did know her mother had called her and said the same, except for her to go to Mumbai. And even if he wouldn't voice this concern yet--he didn't want to be without her for so many L O N G months. He took a bite from the forkful she was holding out to his mouth before smiling at her as he chewed it, wondering about how he should approach the topic.

Diya smiled back at Aarav when he grinned at her and shifted so she was now leaning against his side. Diya almost didn't want finals season to end. The closer they drew to the end of the year, the closer the date on Diya's ticket came. She didn't want to go back to Mumbai; she wasn't sure she was capable of spending four months without Aarav Roy. She wasn't sure she WANTED to. Diya's hand came down on his knee, it was bouncing. It meant he had something to say, something he didn't know how to say and so Diya looked up at him. She raised an eyebrow, expectant. He knew he could tell her anything, so this sudden fear, this sudden anxiety was confusing Diya. "That would be a good summer project no? Maybe I'll learn how to make cheesecake."

Aarav felt her hand on his knee and almost looked up at her in surprise before realizing it wasn't that strange or uncommon. She could always tell when he was anxious over anything and it made him smile considering how easily she knew how to calm him down and tell him simply that he could tell her anything. He looked up at her and saw the way she was staring at him before he wrinkled his nose until she spoke and found himself smiling. He LOVED cheesecake, absolutely any kind of cheesecake so this was a big deal to him. "But kya faida, if I won't be around to be your taste tester..." and that was the best way to let it out, he decided--aware that it gave her a chance to tell him about her plans, either telling him what he already presumed was going to happen--or refuting it and telling him she was going to be here with him.

Diya would look back on this conversation and pinpoint Aarav complaint as the moment she'd learned what had been plaguing him. She set the bowl back down on the table before turning to look at Aarav. Her hands rested on his knees as she too mirrored his cross legged seating position and shook her head. "Come to Mumbai with me." It was a good idea; her mother wouldn't be around much either way; she could show him all the sights and most importantly they would be TOGETHER. After all, wasn't that the main reason for her anxiety of the summer holidays? Leaving Aarav? If he came to Mumbai with her, it would no longer be a problem. In fact, there would be no problems to speak of. In fact, Diya was liking this plan more and more with each growing second. "Haan, and I can show you all my favourite places in the city, and we can come back to London together. Uncle can fly down to see you so you don't have to go to Delhi!"

Aarav stared at Diya in amusement, at the way she was actually setting the food down before she copied his sitting position which had him smiling. Of course, that was until he heard her words and the smile fell from his face. Going to Mumbai with her? Her mother would HATE that. He watched as she looked like she was re-thinking the idea. This was good, she'd realize she was wrong quickly enough and he'd just stay here, waiting for her. Or maybe he'd go somewhere else in Europe, stay in an airbnb or something. But before he could even tell her that, he listened to her words, the excitement in her voice and just blinked at her. "You're kidding. Main tere saath Mumbai thodi na aa sakhta hoon. Your mother would hate it." Veer too, would hate it. Especially since Aarav was pretty sure the other boy was going to be banking on this summer holiday to explain to Diya about his feelings. But Aarav wasn't worried, not when Diya loved him the way she did.

Diya pouted at his words, letting the corners of her lips draw downwards. She lowered her eyes, shoulders slumping before staring down at their hands. "I just thought it would be nice," she mumbled, obviously a little dejected; he was right, Diya knew that. Her mother would DESPISE having Aarav Roy around; even now, she was tolerant of the relationship because she couldn't do anything about it; not when she was seven thousand kilometres away. "What am I going to do without you?" At the start of the year, Diya couldn't wait to go home; she couldn't wait to hang out with Veer but now she wanted none of that. All Diya wanted was to spend her summer with Aarav. It should have said something about how codependent they were on one another but Diya didn't care. Maybe she could stay back in England too, but already that idea was out. Her mother would have a stroke if she learned Diya intended on staying in Europe over the summer.

Aarav held her hands in his own, squeezing them gently, before tugging so that she'd look up at him. "It would be--but, not yet. I don't--main nahi chahta, ke tumhari Ma aur bhi naraaz ho jaaye. She already didn't like me and made that very clear before," he attempted a smile but it was half-hearted because without realizing, it truly felt as if they had obstacles that would prevent the two of them from being close to one another. "I don't know," he told her quietly, pulling their hands closer to him before he kissed the back of hers, "but I don't know what I'm going to do either," he mumbled, knowing that it was going to be difficult, especially since he barely had any savings of his own, and things in this part of the world were ridiculously expensive, but still--he just wished he'd tried to persuade her to stay, even though he knew her rightful place was back home, where her mother would want her. "Maybe you can--come back earlier?" He asked, his eyes slightly hopeful.

Diya met Aarav's gaze and nodded. "I'll change my return ticket dates tonight," she murmured, leaning in to kiss Aarav softly. Of course, she should have known how DEPRAVEDthey were of one another so a simple kiss would be enough to set a spark. A spark which ran through Diya's veins and she clutched at Aarav's shoulders before tugging the shirt off his head as fast as it would come off, ripping it slightly in the process. She fell back into the couch, legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled Aarav down to her level. She missed him; she missed being with him in this capacity. She wanted it BAD, especially if she was supposed to go without sex for four months. "What's your opinion on phone sex? Sexting?" Diya's voice was breathless, attention diverted by Aarav's lips against her neck.

Aarav nodded back to her when she spoke about changing her return tickets, because even an extra month, an extra few weeks with her would help. Because--he may not admit it, but being on his own, Aarav was worried his mind would drive him crazy. He'd go off into thinking about his past and once again let it try to consume him. He couldn't tell her, he wouldn't--not when he knew how it would burden her with thinking she had to be around to take care of him. His thoughts were easily pushed back when he felt her lips on his own, her fingers stretching his shirt and tugging it off his body before he fell over her, smiling at the way she suddenly seemed to have another craving, one that wasn't food related though. He was breathless quickly this time thanks to their tumbling, and let his lips trail down to her neck, paying special attention to his favourite spot when he heard her words and glanced up. "I'm good with both." He tugged on her bottom lip before smirking down at her, an almost teasing glint in his eyes. "But I'll be all on my own so mere liye easy hoga. But you? You think you can keep your voice muffled enough so no one hears you at your place?"

Diya felt the moan rip from her throat before she even had any time to process what her body's reactions were to Aarav's husky voice, to the challenge he presented in his words. She hated how right he was; he knew of her inability to stay quiet in moments like these; they often thanked their lucky stars Aarav had no roommate. The poor boy would have been traumatized by the end of the year. "I can try," she murmured, fighting fire with fire as she tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, "but wouldn't that turn you on even more?" Again, Diya wondered how she would spend four months without sex, without Aarav's lips against hers, without his hands on her curves, without his tongue, without HIM. She would be suffering from whatever the female equivalent of blue balls was, and neither phone sex nor sexting would be able to fix that craving. "Maybe I will come back earlier," she breathed out, hands moving behind her own back to unclasp her bra.

Aarav smiled against her mouth, knowing that there was no way she could try to keep quiet. Because he knew her, and he knew the effect his words and body had on her. "No--nope," a stutter left his lips when he felt her teeth at his ear before he groaned very loudly, hating how easily she knew just which places got him ridiculously riled up. "It would because I love knowing how much you want me when you can't have me." Case in point, the first week of the study break. Aarav had been ADAMANT on sticking to their separate sides of the apartment to keep from wanting to be together and he'd never seen Diya quiet so frustrated and trying so hard to get Aarav to even just kiss her. "You will, you can't resist," he smiled before his fingers rested at the hem of her underwear before he caught her unclasping her bra and tossing it on the same couch his phone had been tossed away. "God, I love you, Diya Mehra," he whispered before wrapping his arms around her once more.

Diya didn't know how to explain it to Aarav, but whenever he told her he LOVED her - a certain warmth began to spread through Diya's body. It wasn't one she could explain, except she knew it felt good. It warmed her heart, it made her toes curl; it made Diya feel special, wanted. She'd never felt wanted (not like this) before. She didn't know it could feel so good. "I love you more Aarav Roy," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the underside of his ear as her hands clutched at his shoulders, arching up into his touch, giving into the friction their lower halves presented. It was only now Diya realized how tough the study break had been on her. It had gotten so bad Diya would spend extra minutes in the shower, discovering herself and going back to previous times she'd been with Aarav. However, none of that had the same effect as Aarav did and he probably knew it too. The smug bastard.

Aarav only let the tension in his shoulders roll out once he collapsed, yes, directly on top of her, smiling as he did before he shifted slightly so that his head was directly resting in the crook of her neck, pressing light kisses against her. "I don't know what we're going to do once this break is done and university is officially over," he murmured before itching to say what he'd been wanting to since he realized she'd be gone all summer long. "I know we pretty much were living together all year, but--would you be open to officially doing it next year? Like both of us in the same apartment? So that you don't have to even pretend to go back to another place sometimes when you know your RA will do checks or something?" He was going out on a limb, actually talking about their future a little more than he normally was okay with. He'd loved to listen to her words, to her dreams, but he rarely said things--almost afraid that if he did--he'd JINX it.

Diya was still recovering from the high Aarav had given her. His skimming of all her Cosmopolitan issues was really beginning to pay off as their sex became a lot more of a give and take, rather than just a taking. So when she heard his words, she opened one eyes. "Like move in together? Getting our own place?" There's a breathless excitement Diya can't even TRY to mask in her voice. She can picture it now; they could sign the lease together; they could get those name plates for their door; they could paint the apartment together. "You know, I've always wanted to see if you can put together IKEA furniture," Diya teased, wondering if he'd catch her drift; wondering if he'd hear the yes in her taunt. There is nothing Diya wanted more than to live with Aarav, to take another step into their future together. Her fingers threaded through his hair, as she shifted slightly on the couch so her head would now rest against the armrest, looking up at the ceiling.

Aarav was a bit nervous about how she'd take his words, if she'd agree, or think he was CRAZY for even suggesting something like this when they'd only been together a year. But in Aarav's heart, he knew there was no one else he could even imagine sitting next to him at a dinner with his father, after having fought and convinced him to attend it. And he knew there was no one else who could even begin to understand the complexities he came burdened with. Diya Mehra was IT for him. "Yeah," he whispered when she asked before he watched her still contemplate his question. Except when he'd heard her little thing about IKEA furniture, he ended up smiling then he had even moments before. "I am amazing at building things," he whispered before smiling at the way she was running her fingers through his hair. "Great, so--we're going to do this when you get back. We'll look for our own place together."