The Scar Beneath the Smile

The silence that followed their fading moments wasn't peaceful—it was screaming in Krish's mind. It was the kind of silence that reminded him of the emptiness after storms, where things looked intact but felt broken. It lingered, not as a memory but as a wound refusing to close.

The day after the birthday scene, Krish went to college as usual. The world moved like nothing had changed—but something had. Deep inside, he could feel his rhythm disrupted, his mind echoing with everything he couldn't understand about Maira anymore.

He walked through the corridor silently, not greeting anyone. His footsteps sounded louder than usual. Students laughed, whispered, scrolled through phones… Krish felt like a ghost among them. His bag hung heavier than usual. Not because of the books, but because of the weight on his heart.

His eyes scanned the crowd. She was there. Maira stood near the corridor, talking. Laughing. With Raghav.

That sight burned more than he expected. He looked away quickly and walked past, pretending not to see. But every fiber of him screamed for clarity. He wanted to scream, cry, ask her what changed. But all he could do was stay silent.

A New Face

As Krish entered his classroom and quietly took his seat in the last row, a new student walked in.

"Is this seat free?" the boy asked. Krish nodded.

"I'm Fahad," he said with a smile. "New here."

Krish managed a weak nod. Fahad noticed the dullness in Krish's eyes. After a few minutes of silence, he gently asked, "Are you okay?"

Krish stayed quiet. Fahad tried again during lunch.

"You know, sometimes even strangers can understand better. I don't mean to push you, bro. But if you're carrying something… don't let it eat you."

That sentence hit him. Because that's what it felt like. Something inside him was eating away at him.

By the end of the day, Krish had spoken. Everything. From the beginning of Maira's letters to the stolen smiles, to the growing distance, and finally… the silence. The hug. The kiss. And now, the pain.

Fahad listened, never interrupting. And then he said something that stirred Krish deeply:

"If you still care… fight for her. But not with fists. With truth. Don't walk away until you've at least told your side."

The Auto Stand Confrontation

Krish walked straight to the auto stand as college ended. His heart beat like a war drum. He didn't have a plan. Just pain.

From a distance, he saw them. Maira. Raghav. Standing close. Smiling. His feet felt heavy… but he moved.

Every step was heavier than the last. The crowd blurred. The sound of his heartbeat drowned out every other noise.

He walked right up to them.

"Maira… can I talk to you for a minute?"

She looked at him. No warmth.

"What for, Krish?"

"Please… Raghav… you were my friend. Why are you doing this?"

Raghav shifted awkwardly. "You left her, Krish. She needed someone."

"I never left her," Krish said, his voice cracking. "I was just hurting. I… I didn't know how to explain…"

Maira interrupted, "And now you want to fix it with a public drama?"

Krish stepped forward, desperation trembling in his fingers.

"I never stopped loving you."

He raised his hand—not to hit, but in helplessness.

And then — SLAP.

The world froze.

Maira slapped Krish hard across the cheek.

"Stop making this harder. You don't get to show up now and act like a victim," she snapped.

People stared. Autos halted. Krish's chest rose and fell like he'd run miles. His ears rang. His vision blurred—not from the slap, but from the shame.

His hand touched his cheek slowly, more from shock than pain.

"I just wanted us," he whispered.

"That's all I ever wanted."

The Walk Away

Krish turned away. He didn't argue. He didn't cry. He just… walked.

Step after step, the world blurred. Tears finally came, hot and unrelenting. He walked till the voices disappeared. Till even his heartbeat seemed distant.

He sat on a bench near the park. Memories flooded back —their auto rides, the birthday, the letters… her handwriting.

He let it all hit him. Hard.

"I wasn't fighting for control… I was fighting for us."

"And I lost… not her. I lost myself."

The air was thick. Every breath felt heavy.

A child nearby laughed. Krish smiled faintly. Even pain had its moments of irony.

Flashback Montage

Her first letter: folded like a rose, slipped into his notebook.

Her handwriting. Curvy, delicate. Like her voice.

Their first auto ride: knees touching accidentally.

Her birthday gift: his carefully chosen gifts for her.

His birthday: her hug. Her kiss.

Her poem — the one she read softly with trembling fingers.

Every moment now felt like fiction. Like a dream he'd woken up from.

He just closed his eyes, breathing through the hurt. But it wouldn't go.

The Other Story

At home, Krish was silent. His father noticed the red mark on his face but said nothing. The silence between them was familiar.

His mother saw the swollen eyes… and silently left his favorite food by the bedside. Krish didn't touch it.

He climbed to the terrace that night. He sat down, stared at the sky. No tears left.

He took out his sketchbook. Drew half a heart. Couldn't finish it.

"I don't hate you, Maira. I just hate that I still love you."

Somewhere below, a message buzzed on Maira's phone. From "Anonymous Friend."

"Hope you're okay. I'm here, as always."

She stared at it. Raghav sat beside her. In her heart, she didn't know who she was anymore.

Midnight Thoughts – A Poem That Never Reached

Back in his room, Krish opened a blank page. He started to write—not to her, but to himself.

"I stood in the fire and called it home, Held your shadow like it was flesh and bone. Now silence screams where your voice once stayed, And I keep the pieces that never fade."

He folded the paper and kept it in his wallet. He didn't know why. Maybe because part of him still believed she'd come back.

But even belief was growing tired.

A Voice Message Never Sent

Later that night, unable to sleep, Krish opened his phone and hit record:

"Hey, Maira…

I don't even know why I'm recording this.

Maybe because I don't know how else to tell you what's left in me.

I didn't plan this. I didn't plan to fall this deep.

I didn't think your silence would hurt more than any slap.

But it does. Every second. Every breath. I hope you're happy. But I miss you.

Not for what we were — but for what we could've been."

He listened to it once.

And then deleted it.

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To be continued...