Chapter 6: Our First Real Relationship

This time, it was real.

No more hiding behind "just friends."

No more late-night confusion or unsaid feelings.

After that call… after that hug… everything changed.

But in the best way possible.

Khushi and I weren't awkward like those fresh new couples who didn't know how to act.

We had history. We had inside jokes, scars, memories — and now, love.

We still studied together like always, but now she'd rest her head on my shoulder when she got tired.

We still fought over stupid stuff — like which anime to watch — but now, even our arguments ended with her saying, "Chup reh, mujhe hug de."

Our first official sleepover happened a week later.

Her mom was visiting her aunt, and our parents trusted us enough to not burn the house down.

We watched movies, shared a bowl of popcorn, and she wore my hoodie the whole night — saying, "Tera smell aata hai isse… it's weirdly comforting."

At night, we lay side by side on her bed — under a single blanket, just inches apart.

It wasn't like those romantic movies.

We didn't rush anything.

We just... talked.

About life, about dreams, about our future.

"Ek din shaadi karenge?" she whispered.

My heart skipped. "Karni padegi. Ab toh tujhe chhod bhi nahi sakta."

She smiled.

And then she kissed me.

Slow.

Soft.

The kind of kiss that doesn't need fireworks — because your heart's already exploding inside.

After that, kisses became a part of us.

Quick ones before school.

Lazy ones on the terrace under the stars.

Playful ones after mock-fights.

And the hugs?

They were therapy.

Whenever I had a bad day, she'd wrap her arms around me, and for a moment, the world would feel… safe.

But we weren't perfect.

Love isn't a straight line.

One day, a guy named Arnav started getting too friendly with her in tuition.

At first, I ignored it.

But then he started texting her late at night, calling her cute, asking if she'd ever dated.

I confronted her.

"Why is he calling you at 11 PM?"

She got mad. "Are you seriously accusing me?"

"I'm not. I just... don't like how close he's getting."

"Then say that. Don't treat me like I'm the problem."

That night, we didn't speak.

I couldn't sleep.

Next morning, I apologized. She did too.

"I should've drawn a line earlier," she admitted. "You matter more than some random idiot."

She blocked him the same day.

Not because I asked her to.

But because she chose me.

And I chose her — every day.

We were still young.

We didn't have all the answers.

But we had each other.

And somehow, that felt like more than enough.

[End of Chapter 6]