Chapter 6: Breaking Barriers (TTPW)

The sun had set below the horizon. A golden glow had crept into Maya's apartment as she leaned against her wall, pencil poised in hand. Fingers hovered over the pencil, all her focus geared to the faint music that seeped through the paper-thin walls of her apartment, Aarav playing again. Tonight was different, though, like an open letter from the very notes of his guitar; something raw and deeply personal, a message meant for her.

Maya closed her eyes, letting the music seep into her like a warm hug. Forgotten beside her was the sketch she'd been working on. Every chord tugged at her heartstrings, and she felt herself moving closer to the wall as if proximity could make the sense she had with that mysterious neighbor inside her deeper.

But on the other hand of the piano, Aarav's fingers hovered and fell as if he were a new pianist. The piece he was playing was unthought of and never practiced. It just came from an actual place in his heart. It was the one he wished were more unreachable, the higher notes where he felt exposed. He hadn't meant anyone to hear it, but somehow having Maya listen to him made all of his fear gone.

She found herself standing before she knew it, her body moving toward the door as if pulled along by an invisible thread. She hesitated over the doorknob, wanting to say something — anything, really — to convey how much his music meant to her. And words felt impossible. So she made her way out into the hallway, clutching the sketch she'd left unfinished.

In the hallway, shadows seemed stretched across the walls; it was dimly lit. Maya approached Aarav's door and slipped the sketch underneath—a quiet response to his unspoken confession. She lingered there for a moment, her heart pounding as she imagined his reaction. Would he understand what she was trying to say?

Inside, Aarav's music fumbled as he saw that the paper slid into his apartment. He stopped playing; he had to know what this was. He got up and walked over, getting down on one knee to pick up the sketch. The view before him left him breathless. It was him, his silhouette hunched over the piano, lost in the music, but there was more in the lines and shading that he could hardly name.

Aarav felt his heart pound as he looked at the drawing. It was as if Maya had captured a piece of his soul on paper. He flipped over the drawing. He half expected to find a note there, but there was nothing. He ran his fingertips along the edges, surmising what to do next.

Maya, meanwhile, stood against her door, her pulse pounding in her ears. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if she revealed a part of herself that isn't ready to be shared. The silence from Aarav's apartment stretched on and she started to doubt her decision; perhaps it was because of overstepping the limits or misconstruing the realness of their connection.

Just as she was about to step inside her apartment, a knock reverberated through the hallway. Maya spun around, opened her door, and there he was-Aarav, holding the sketch. His eyes, until now un guardant, were soft and seeking.

"Did not know you could draw like this," he said murmuringly, his voice low and hesitant.

Maya went red in a flash. "I-it just happened. your music.inspired me."

Aarav lifted the sketch. "This isn't just a drawing. It's. it's how you see me, isn't it?"

Maya nodded, unsure of her words. The air around them was charged with unspoken words, stuff too difficult to say.

"I have never had someone listen the way you do," Aarav revealed steadily. "It is like you hear more than just the notes.".

And never so affected by music," Maya declared. "It's like telling a story that I couldn't let myself listen to."

They stood there, standing near something deeper but neither of them dared to step in. It was Aarav who finally broke the silence, pointing at his apartment.

"Would you like to come in? I can play for you. properly this time.".

Maya hesitated, her heart pounding. The invitation felt intimate, almost too much. But the look in Aarav's eyes told her this wasn't just about music—it was about trust.

"I'd like that," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped aside, making way for her to enter his world for the first time. This was a sparse but cozy apartment; however, the piano seemed to dominate the small sitting room. Maya's eyes went instantly to it, to the bridge that had bridged them.

Aarav walked up to the piano. His fingers danced light above the keys. "Any requests?"

"Surprise me," Maya said, taking a seat on the sofa.

A faint smile creased Aarav's face, and his fingers began their dance. This time the melody was softer still, very deliberate. Maya closed her eyes as if allowing the music to simply wash over her. She felt as if Aarav were peeling off layers with each note: peeling off parts of himself that he never let anyone see.

When it ended, Aarav turned to her. His expression was unreadable. "What did you see this time?

Maya opened her eyes and caught his glance. "I saw you," she said softly.

Aarav's breath hitched. For a moment, he wanted to lean in, to close the distance between them. But then he caught himself because he did not want to break that delicate connection they had only just begun to build.

"Thank you," he said instead, his voice full of emotion.

"For what?" Maya asked, cocking her head to the side.

"For hearing me," Aarav said.

Maya smiled, and for the first time in years, Aarav felt the flicker of hope.

As night fell over them, they talked softly, talking to each other about music and art, pain and healing. The city was thrumming on outside, unaware of this bond that slowly formed in the quiet of Aarav's apartment.

For the first time in a long while, both Maya and Aarav felt like they'd found something worth holding onto.