Whispers of the Summer Sky

The following days were a delicate balance between silence and companionship. Arjun and Naina didn't speak of her mother again, but the unspoken heaviness lingered like a storm waiting to break.

Arjun made it his mission to be there for her in the small ways. He brought coffee to her house, left her favorite snacks on the bench, and even started texting her small jokes, hoping to catch a glimpse of her former self.

But Naina was a fortress. She acknowledged his efforts with polite smiles or quick thank yous and seemed almost desperate to keep the walls around her heart intact.

One evening, the summer sky painted streaks of orange and purple across the horizon. Arjun waited by the bench, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower, the shadows lengthening around him. He wasn't sure if she would come—it felt like their meetings were becoming fewer and farther between—but he waited anyway.

Just as he was about to leave, Naina appeared at the edge of the clearing. She carried something in her hands, a small wooden box clutched tightly against her chest.

Arjun frowned as she approached, her expression unreadable.

Hey, he greeted, his voice soft.

Hey, she replied, sitting down beside him without preamble. She held the box in her lap, running her fingers over its surface.

What's that? he asked gently, sensing its importance.

Naina hesitated, then opened the box with careful hands. Inside were small mementos—a photograph of her family, a pressed flower, and a handful of folded notes. She held up the picture, her eyes fixed on the smiling faces frozen in time.

My mom gave me this, she explained quietly. She said it's for when I feel lost.

Arjun leaned closer to look, recognizing Naina in the photo as a younger, more carefree version of herself. Her mother stood beside her, their smiles identical, radiant with a joy that now felt like a distant memory.

She looks a lot like you, Arjun said.

Naina's lips quirked up in a sad smile. Everyone says that. I guess it's true.

They sat in silence for a while, the hum of crickets filling the air. Naina took out one of the notes from the box and unfolded it, her fingers trembling slightly.

What do they say? Arjun asked, his curiosity laced with caution.

Just little things she wants me to remember, Naina said, her voice cracking. This one says... 'Don't lose your fire, no matter how dark it gets.'

Arjun's throat tightened as he watched her struggle to keep her composure.

I feel like I've already lost it, Naina admitted, her eyes welling up. Everything feels... pointless. Even sitting here with you, Arjun, I feel like I'm just waiting for everything to fall apart.

Arjun reached out, hesitating for only a moment before placing a hand on her shoulder. You haven't lost it, Naina. It's still there. You're still here, and that means something.

Does it? she asked, her voice barely audible.

What if I can't get through this? What if... what if the fire goes out for good?

Arjun didn't have an answer. All he had was his unshakable certainty in her, a belief he wasn't sure she shared in herself yet.

It won't, he said firmly. Not as long as I'm here.

Naina looked at him, her defenses momentarily crumbling under the weight of her grief. You can't fix this, Arjun, she said softly, though there was no malice in her tone.

I'm not trying to fix it, he replied. I'm just trying to remind you that you're not alone. You don't have to face this by yourself.

For the first time in weeks, Naina allowed herself to cry—not the silent tears she tried to hide but the kind that came in waves, crashing against everything she had bottled up inside. Arjun stayed by her side, holding her hand as the last remnants of daylight faded away.

When her tears finally subsided, Naina wiped her face and let out a shaky laugh. You're stubborn, you know that?

I prefer 'persistent,' Arjun said with a smile.

Naina closed the wooden box and set it gently on her lap. Thanks, Arjun. For not giving up on me. Even when I make it impossible.

You're worth the fight, Naina, he replied simply.

As the first stars emerged in the darkening sky, Naina looked up, her gaze lingering on the infinite expanse above them. The fractures in her world hadn't healed, but for the first time, she felt like she could breathe through the cracks.

She didn't know what the future held, but with Arjun's steadfast presence, the weight of the horizon felt just a little less heavy.

And for now, that was enough.

--END--