It was a habit now - almost a need - to play whenever Maya sketched. The two somehow reached an unspoken rhythm, even though they stood separated by the thin wall of their apartments. Often it seemed that they were in the same room. But tonight was different. His chest felt weighed down by the unsaid words, and his mind galloped to consider whether he should move forward or retreat to the comfort of his barricade of music.
On the other side of the wall, Maya was restless. Outlines were clear of her sketch, but it lacked the softness she wanted to convey. Aarav's music normally inspired her, filling in the spaces with something ethereal. But tonight the piano was quiet. She laid down her pencil and leaned back, eyes closed, memories of their recent moments together flooding her mind.
It was the way in which Aarav had smiled when she shared the story behind one of her sketches, or the subtle way he would lean his head while playing her favorite song. They did not need to speak to get closer, but Maya felt now an urge to know about the man behind the melodies.
She stood and walked to the wall between them. Her fingers brushed over the cool plaster. For a minute, she thought of leaving another note. Instead, she drew out her phone and hesitated. Was it too much to text him now? The decision had already been made when her phone vibrated, and the message was from him.
Aarav: Can I play something for you?
Always," Maya said with a smile, curving her lips upwards. Moments later, the piano sprang into life.
The melody was not one Aarav had played before. It seemed raw, vulnerable and heartbreakingly beautiful. Maya closes her eyes and lets the music envelop her, sketching away thoughtlessly. The pencil moved instinctively, giving life to the emotions infused in the notes. And then, suddenly, the music ceases.
She fretted, letting the pencil fall and picking up her phone. She's raised it to begin writing when she heard a knock at the door. A bit taken aback, she got up and opened it to find Aarav standing on her porch, looking more vulnerable than ever.
"I didn't intend to interrupt," he said softly, his hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets. "But I thought maybe. it's time I tell you something."
Maya stood aside so he could enter. He scanned her apartment, his gaze locking onto the drawing she'd been working on. It was his face, but this wasn't just his face; it was him at the piano, surrounded by the emotions he poured into his music.
"You drew this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Maya nodded. "Your music. it speaks to me in ways that cannot be explained."
Aarav smiled softly, shaking his head. "And here I thought I was the one inspired by you."
They settled on the floor as dim light cast softly through them. Deep breath, and Aarav started his tale. "I wasn't always like this," he started. "There was a time when music was just a hobby, something I used to do for fun. But then. life happened."
He paused, and Maya waited patiently, sensing this was difficult for him.
"I was engaged," said Aarav. "Her name was Ishita. She was everything I thought I wanted: ambitious, confident and so full of life. But as we got closer to the wedding, things started falling apart. I realized we were not compatible. She wanted a life I could not give. And so we went our separate ways."
She could see only the anguish there, could feel it in her own, but she also admired his guts for opening up like that. "And the music?" she whispered gently.
"It's become therapy," he said softly, with a small smile. "Every note, every chord-helped me process those things I couldn't say out loud. But for years, I stopped playing for anybody else. Until you."
Maya's cheeks warmed at that comment. "Why me?
A depth kind of looked out from his eyes that made her catch her breath. "Because you listen—not with your ears but with your heart. And somehow you understand."
The room was silent, the weight of his words hanging between them. Maya wanted to say something. She didn't know how to express herself. Instead, she reached for his hand, her touch light yet reassuring.
It was a noise, abrupt and jarring-some crash from outside. Both of them turned toward the window, shocked. Maya stood up to inspect; she pulled the curtain to one side to look into the alley that some neighborhood kids were playing cricket. Someone knocked over a garbage can by accident.
Aarav went over to her at the window, laughing. "It's always the alley kids."
Maya smiled; she was thankful for the break that had given her the lightening of the moment. "They certainly keep things in interest, don't they?"
Aarav looked at her, his face softening. "Yeah kind of like you."
The words were simple but laced with a weight that made Maya's heart flutter. She turned to look full at him and said nothing for a moment. The unspoken connection they created over weeks seemed to give it a new meaning.
"I should probably get going," Aarav said finally, his voice unconvincing.
"Or," Maya countered, "you can stay and help me finish this sketch."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "I don't even know the first thing about sketching."
"Then you can play while I draw," Maya suggested.
Aarav smiled, nodding. "Deal."
In the din of music and art, night slipped through. Aarav played now with a creativity he was finding new within himself, while Maya sketched with a clarity she hadn't felt in weeks. It was as if their energies fed off each other in this activity neither could have done alone.
Just as the first light of dawn crept through the window, Aarav stopped playing finally. He looked at Maya, who was finishing her sketch.
"Can I see it?" he asked.
Maya hesitated for a second before turning the sketchpad towards him. Aarav stared at the drawing, his breath catching. It was a perfect blend of their worlds—his piano surrounded by the emotions he poured into his music, brought to life through Maya's art.
"It's beautiful," he said, speaking as though in awe.
"So is your music," Maya replied softly.
They exchanged a smile, one carrying understanding, unspoken promises. For the first time in many years, Aarav felt an ounce of hope, hope that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to let someone in again.
And Maya? She felt she finally found somebody who saw her, truly understood who she was.
As the sun climbed higher and its warmth cast warm hues on the room; they did not even notice. They were in their own little world, a world that was slowly becoming theirs.