cracks in cold

For someone who was supposedly the “monster” of Crescent Hill Academy, Arav Malhotra worked with the precision of a machine and the silence of a monk.

He didn’t ask Meher about her weekend.

He didn’t laugh at her terrible jokes.

And he absolutely did not smile.

But something had changed since that paratha incident.

Because now, when she spoke, he listened—quietly, without interrupting.

And that was enough for her to keep going.

---

Library – Two Days Later

“I think I figured out the circuit issue,” Meher said, sliding into the chair across from him.

Arav barely glanced up from his notebook. “Doubt it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Wow, Mr. Encouragement. I’ll take that as a challenge.”

She opened her file, pulling out a scribbled diagram. “This bypass here? If we link it directly to the main power source instead of the delay node, we reduce the lag.”

Arav finally looked up.

She could see the moment it clicked for him. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her drawing, then back at her. And then, softly—

“…That might actually work.”

Meher grinned, triumphant. “See? Told you I have one brain cell left, and sometimes it shines.”

“You talk too much,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

“You feel too little,” she shot back.

Arav’s hand paused mid-page.

For a second, it looked like he might say something… but he didn’t. He returned to writing in silence.

---

That Evening – School Terrace

The sun was setting in golden streaks across the rooftops as Meher sat on the school terrace, munching on a packet of chips, alone.

Or so she thought.

“Junk food again?” came a voice behind her.

She turned, half-jumping. “God, you walk like a ghost!”

Arav leaned against the wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t be up here alone.”

“I come here to think. Or escape judgmental rich boys.”

“I’m not judging you.”

“You’re silently judging me. That’s worse.”

He stepped closer, the sky behind him glowing orange. “Why are you always… this way?”

She tilted her head. “What way?”

“Loud. Honest. Happy.”

Meher blinked. No one had ever asked her that—not like that.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “Maybe because my life’s too short and messy to pretend. And yours? Yours looks like it’s never been touched by anything real.”

He looked away at that. His jaw tightened.

And then, for the first time, he said something that wasn’t cold or calculated.

“My mom left when I was ten. My father only talks through his assistant. I grew up with money, yes. But never love. So maybe you’re right. I don’t feel much. Or maybe… I just don’t know how to show it.”

Meher’s heart softened.

Silence stretched between them, but this time, it didn’t feel empty.

She scooted over and offered him the packet of chips. “Here. Let’s be emotionally damaged together.”

Arav stared at the chips like they were some alien artifact. Then, slowly, he took one.

And ate it.

Without a word.

---

Later That Night – Arav’s Perspective

Arav sat at his desk at home, the city glowing below his glass walls. His phone screen lit up with a single message:

Meher:

"Hey Ice Monster. That chip you stole from me? You owe me one tomorrow. :)"

For the first time in years, he smiled.