Chapter 8

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Roohi's POV

The memories kept coming, each one painting a picture of a boy who had been everything to me—my best friend, my protector, the center of my universe.

Middle school brought new adventures, but some things never changed. Vihan’s teasing, his protective streak, and those circles he couldn’t seem to stop drawing on my back—they were as constant as the rising sun.

It was in middle school when I realized my feelings for Vihan weren’t just the fleeting crushes that came and went like passing seasons.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore. It wasn’t just the way my stomach fluttered when he smiled or the way my heart raced when he drew those stupid circles on my back. It was deeper than that.

It wasn’t about his mischievous grin or his endless charm, though those things didn’t help my cause. It was the way he made me feel safe like the world couldn’t touch me as long as he was around.

It was a quiet realization, the kind that settles deep in your chest and makes itself at home. I didn’t just like him; I loved him.

There was a day during PE class that still lingers in my mind, clearer than the rest.

One of the boys in our class, Rohan, thought it would be funny to tug on my braid while we were waiting on the sidelines. I shot him a glare, ready to tell him off, but before I could say a word, Vihan was there, and before I knew it, the boy was flat on his back, staring up at an angry Vihan.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” he’d said, his voice low and threatening. Rohan stumbled, eyes wide with fear, and mumbled an apology before running off.

I should’ve been angry at his overprotectiveness. I should’ve told him I didn’t need him fighting my battles. But instead, I’d fallen a little more in love, when he asked, "Roohi, are you okay? I will not tolerate anyone hurting you."

The feeling grew slowly, entwining itself into my everyday life. He’d wait for me after school, even when I took ages packing my bag to check if he would leave me alone if I took forever, but he always waited.

At birthday parties, he’d always save the last slice of pizza or cake for me, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. Once, during a family picnic, he spent hours convincing me to climb a tree with him, promising he’d catch me if I slipped. And when I finally managed to make it onto the lowest branch, he clapped like I’d won an Olympic medal, making me laugh until my sides ached.

How sweet! Wasn't he sweet?

*******

Well, I reached the memory lane that was filled with middle school memories, that time was different.

My feelings had grown deeper, something I couldn’t ignore even if I tried. But Vihan didn’t see me that way.

To him, I was just Roohi—the quiet, dependable friend who would always be there.

By then, Vihan had become the boy everyone wanted to know.

Girls flocked to him, giggling at his jokes and finding excuses to touch his arm. He soaked it all in, his charm turning every interaction into something that left me feeling invisible.

He flirted with other girls, flashing them the same charming grin that made my knees weak. I hated it. I hated the way my heart twisted every time he looked at them with the attention I craved.

“Why do you let them hang all over you?” I asked him once, trying to sound casual though only I knew how I used to feel about it.

“They’re fun,” he replied with a shrug. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, Roohi.”

He didn’t understand. How could he? To him, it was all just fun as he was getting lots of attention. To me, it was a knife twisting in my chest every time he looked at one of them the way I wished he’d look at me.

******

I recalled another memory while wandering the lane...When we were fourteen, both families decided we’d dance together at a family wedding. Vihan and I were paired up because, of course, we were friends.

“I’m leading,” he declared confidently though he was not a very good dancer.

“No way! You’re terrible at keeping rhythm,” I argued, swatting his hand away when he tried to twirl me.

“Roohi, I will manage as I’ve got a charm. That’s all I need,” he said in Shahrukh style.

“Charm won’t save you from looking like a flailing octopus.” I rolled my eyes and said.

We spent weeks practicing, arguing about who should lead, and stepping on each other’s toes.

The practice sessions were chaotic. Vihan kept stepping on my toes, and I kept tripping over my own feet because he insisted on “freestyling.”

Finally, one evening, I stormed off in frustration, convinced we’d never get it right, he followed me out to the garden.

“Roohi,” he called, following me. “Don’t be mad. I’ll do better.”

“No, you are overconfident and don't take anything seriously about whatever I say. You can’t fix being terrible at dancing,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

“True,” he agreed. “But I can make you laugh.”

Then he broke into the worst dance routine I’ve ever seen, complete with exaggerated hip thrusts and chicken-like flapping arms. I laughed so hard I almost fell over.

“See? Mission accomplished,” he said smugly.

That was Vihan... always knowing how to make me laugh, even when I wanted to stay angry; after that, he did the practice well, and we danced very well.

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Good morning

Here is my today's chapter I hope you liked it please let me know.

I posted two chapters of hired Fiance as well as playboy each on Gn. Please tell me about them as well.

Take care of yourself and have a great day ahead.

Thanks

Chhavi.