POV: Aaravi

The thing about obsession is — it doesn’t knock. It kicks the door open, throws tantrums in your brain, and makes your logic look like shit. Ask me how I know.

I’ve been in love — or whatever this is — with for 732 days. That’s two years and a few breakdowns worth of feelings. Not that he’s counted. Not that he’s even noticed.

I live a double life: business major by degree, full-time ashwin chaser by heart.

I pulled on my best black denim, curled my hair into the signature "don’t care but I do" waves, and lined my eyes with the same eyeliner I once caught him noticing during a debate finals. He didn’t compliment it — obviously — but his gaze lingered a whole second longer. I counted.

“Where are you going looking like that babydoll?” Rhea, my roommate, popped her head in.

“to the College ofcourse " I mumbled continuing my makeup.

“ looks like you are going for a date ” she said munching her cookies.

“ I'm going to college reh. Not to a funeral. I want to look alive right ,” I replied shaking my head.

She smirked. “Or you want your man to notice you today?”

I gave her a dramatically scandalized gasp. “I’m shocked at the accusation. This is for me. Entirely self-love.”

Rhea teasingly raised an eyebrow. “Right. And the self you love is exactly six foot tall, emotionally constipated, and allergic to feelings?”

“Exactly.” we giggled.

---

Our college was all glass and sharp angles — like it had a business plan of its own. Inside the amphitheatre-style classroom, I scanned the room. My heart did that stupid flutter when I spotted him.

Ashwin. Sitting third row, window seat, laptop open, notes already color-coded like he was running an IPO.

He looked... infuriatingly perfect. White shirt sandal pants, sleeves rolled up carelessly, Apple Watch in his expensive wrist. He looked like someone who ran the stock market in his sleep.

I slid into the seat next to him without asking. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look. That's fine. Never lose hope. That's my mantra.

“Morning, partner,” I said.

“morning and I’m not your partner,” he replied without glancing up.

I smiled. “Not yet. But we’re in the same major. Same college. Same campus. Same air. Fate’s basically begging for it.”

He didn’t laugh. Just typed something on his MacBook.

“You know,” I leaned in, “you should smile more. It won’t crack your face, I promise.”

He side-eyed me. “You should talk less. It might save your energy.”

“Why? Planning to run a marathon today? I thought you only run from your feelings!”

He blinked once. Slowly. Then went back to typing.

Progress. I did victory symbol. He didn’t walk away.

---

The day passed in caffeine, case studies, and my relentless one-sided flirting. I lived for the milliseconds he responded. A nod. A grunt. Even a sigh.

Lunch was a quiet affair — until I made it loud.

I plopped my tray across from him in the cafeteria.

“I read somewhere that men who eat silently are 70% more emotionally closed up ashu.” I said, stabbing a fork into my pasta.

Ashwin didn’t look up. “Then I’m the academic textbook that you never opened.”

“So you admit it.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll change it.”

“You know, one day, you’ll fall for me,” I said brightly.

He finally looked up, and for a second — just a second — his eyes flicked with something. Annoyance? Curiosity?

“Keep dreaming, Aaravi.”

“I do. Every day. You are in there a lot. Not like this. Like my loving boy that you are!.”

He stood, picked up his tray, and walked away.

Ouch. But honestly? I’d take it. He heard me. That’s practically intimacy in his world.

---

The terrace was my favorite spot after 4 PM. Today, it was his too.

He stood alone, scrolling through something on his phone. The late sun dipped against his silhouette. I joined him without asking.

“You always appear when I’m about to leave,” he said.

“You always appear when I need reasons to stay.”

Silence.

“I know you hate it. The attention that I give you. The jokes. Me,” I said. “But I can’t help it. You make everything else feel background noise baby.”

He looked at me. Really looked this time.

“You’re not in love with me, Aaravi. You’re obsessed with the idea of me.”

I swallowed hard. “Maybe. But what if that idea still hurts less than the way you ignore me?”

He exhaled. “You don’t understand the difference between affection and addiction.”

“You don’t understand the difference between boundaries.”

That made him pause. His jaw ticked. His eyes narrowed.

“Go chase someone who wants to be caught.”

“I only run after the ones worth it.”

“And what if I’m not?”

“Then let me waste myself on you.” I chuckled at that.

He stepped back. “This isn’t cute anymore.”

“I was never trying to be cute. I’m trying to be real.” that's genuine. I never tried to be what I'm not in front of him.

He turned and left. No final look. No apology.

I stared at the empty space he left behind.

Then smiled.

Let him walk away. I’ll follow.

Even if it makes me look insane. Even if it hurts.

Because some loves don’t care about dignity.

They only care about him.

He doesn’t have to love me today. He just has to exist. And I’ll keep loving him until one of us gives up.

Spoiler: It won’t be me.