The day after the literature fest felt strangely quiet. The decorations were still up, the banners fluttering gently in the wind like tired soldiers after battle.
But for Ruhi, the world hadn't slowed. It had shifted.
Rudra's words from the night before echoed in her ears like a haunting melody:
"I think I'm falling for you."
She hadn't responded.Not because she didn't feel the same — she did.She just hadn't known how to say it out loud. Not yet.
Now, back in her room, she stared at the closed pages of her diary Beyond the Buzzer, fingers trembling slightly. She had written what she couldn't say.
"Rudra Sharma, I think I'm falling too."
And yet, she hadn't told him.Not to his face. Not with her voice.
At the boys' hostel, Rudra sat at his desk, tapping a pen against a blank page. He had always been someone who expressed himself better through action — a good pass in basketball, a strong defense in debates, a silent gesture when someone needed it.
But love? It needed words.
So he began to write.
"Ruhi,You're probably wondering why I walked away last night. Why I said what I did and then disappeared.Truth is... I was scared. Not of you, but of everything that comes after.You make me feel calm. And crazy. And complete.I don't know where this leads. But if you're willing... I want to find out — with you."
— Rudra
He folded the letter carefully. Thought about texting. Thought about just telling her.But something about the letter felt right.
The next day at college, Ruhi was in the library, flipping through poetry anthologies for her next assignment when someone tapped her shoulder.
It was Aarav, holding an envelope.
"From Rudra," he said simply.
Her heart jumped.
She took it carefully, fingers trembling again. "Thank you."
As Aarav left, Ruhi looked around for a quiet spot to read it — but just as she turned the corner, her class mentor called out.
"Ruhi! We need your help with the student council files."
She panicked. The envelope! She looked down at her hand, then noticed the thick Shakespeare anthology open on a bench nearby.
Without thinking, she slid the envelope between the pages and rushed off.
She didn't notice that the book belonged to someone else.
And within five minutes...It was gone.
Simran sat at the edge of the basketball court that evening, legs crossed, watching Aarav run a casual practice drill with a few juniors.
He looked completely in his element — hair messy, shirt slightly sweat-drenched, and a focus she'd never seen during classes.
When he noticed her watching, he smiled and jogged over.
"Didn't know you were a fan of the sport."
"I'm not," she grinned. "I'm here for the view."
He laughed. "Flirting now, are we?"
"Just honest."
There was a pause.
Then she said, quieter, "Thank you for yesterday."
He tilted his head. "For what?"
"For listening. For not saying something smart. For just... being there."
"I'll always be there," he said, without skipping a beat.
She blinked. Surprised. But she smiled — softly. "You really mean that?"
"Do you want me to?"
Simran didn't answer. But her silence said more than words.
Meanwhile, Ruhi searched the entire library for the book.
Gone.
She asked the librarian, but she hadn't seen it.She checked every bench, every shelf, every table.
The letter — Rudra's letter — was lost.
By evening, she was sitting on the terrace of her PG, head in her hands. The sky was a dusty purple, stars struggling to shine through Delhi's pollution.
Simran arrived minutes later, holding two cups of chai.
"You okay?" she asked.
Ruhi looked up. "I lost something. Something... important."
"Can I help?"
Ruhi shook her head. "No one can."
Simran handed her a cup, sat beside her. "You want to talk about it?"
Ruhi paused. Then spoke quietly, "He wrote to me. Rudra. A real letter. And I didn't get to read it. It's gone."
Simran's eyes widened. "You mean... like a confession?"
Ruhi nodded.
Simran hesitated. "Maybe... it wasn't meant to be read yet."
Ruhi turned to her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... maybe the universe isn't delaying love. Maybe it's giving you a moment to feel it first. Not read it. Not hear it. But know it."
Ruhi blinked.
And for the first time that day, she smiled — just a little.
Rudra, meanwhile, waited.
He checked his phone every hour. Expected a reply. A message. A sign.
But there was nothing.
He thought maybe she was overwhelmed. Or unsure. Or avoiding him.
His confidence faltered.Had he misread everything?
The next morning in class, Ruhi entered a little late. She looked exhausted. Hair in a loose braid, dark circles under her eyes.
Rudra tried to catch her glance, but she didn't meet his.
She sat beside Simran, quietly.
Something had changed.
But he didn't know why.
That night, Ruhi opened Beyond the Buzzer again.
Beyond the Buzzer – Page 34"There are so many things I want to tell him.But how do you confess when the one way he chose to speak is lost?""Maybe one day I'll get to read it. Or maybe… I'll just write one back instead."
She picked up her pen.
And began.
"Dear Rudra,I'm sorry. For not answering that night.Not because I didn't feel the same, but because I felt too much.You saw me before I even knew I wanted to be seen.You listened when I didn't speak.You stood beside me, when I was used to standing alone.
I don't need perfect timing.I need truth.
And here's mine —I'm already yours.
— Ruhi"
She closed the letter. Tucked it between her diary pages.
And whispered to the night,
"Let's see if this one reaches you."
To be continued...