short tales - Chapter 21: Chapter 21
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The trip was supposed to be three days of sunshine, bonfires, and friendly competitions.
But on the second night, the mountains had other plans.
By evening, the temperature dropped rapidly. The clouds turned a moody grey, and within hours, the snowfall began — soft at first, then suddenly wild and relentless. The coordinators scrambled to get everyone inside.
“Everyone, stay in your rooms! Do not go out unless it’s an emergency!” the faculty warned. “This storm might go on till morning.”
In the chaos, room keys were mixed up, and students were hurriedly reassigned just to avoid freezing in the corridors.
Aanya had just stepped out to get warm water when she returned to find her door locked… and someone else already inside.
“Room 109? That’s mine now,” a girl shrugged. “Coordinator shifted us last minute. You can check with them if you want, but good luck finding another room.”
Aanya stood in the hallway, jacket pulled tight around her small frame, shivering slightly. Her phone buzzed.
Aarav: Come to my room. 110. Don’t think. Just come.
She hesitated — just for a second.
Then her feet moved on their own.
Room 110 was warm, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of sandalwood and mint — like him.
Aanya closed the door behind her, heart thudding.
Aarav was standing by the window, arms crossed, watching the snow swirl outside.
“Did anyone see you?” he asked without turning around.
“No…” she whispered, still catching her breath.
He turned to her then, eyes scanning her face like she was something fragile yet familiar.
“I didn’t plan this,” he said softly. “But I’m not sending you back out in that storm.”
She nodded, voice barely a murmur. “I didn’t want to go back anyway.”
Silence hung between them, heavy and full.
Then he walked over, gently pulled off her jacket, and draped a blanket around her.
“Your fingers are freezing,” he murmured, cupping her hands in his and rubbing them gently. “What were you thinking, running around in that storm?”
“I needed warm water…” she replied, voice trembling — not from cold, but from being this close to him again.
“To hell with warm water,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “You should’ve told me.”
“I can’t tell you everything, Aarav,” she whispered. “Not here. Not when we have to pretend we’re strangers.”
He looked into her eyes. “Then let’s not pretend tonight.”
He led her to the bed, not with lust — but with something deeper. Something slow, sure, and full of bottled-up affection.
They sat side by side under the thick blanket, their legs touching, hearts racing. The storm howled outside, but inside the room, it was silent — peaceful, even.
Aanya looked down at her hands. “Do you ever regret it?” she asked softly. “Marrying me like that… in secret?”
Aarav turned to her, eyes narrowing slightly. “Never. Not even for a second.”
She blinked away the tears threatening to fall.
He reached out, cupped her face, and said, “We’ll have our time, Aanya. Out in the open. I promise. But for tonight… just be mine.”
She nodded.
And that night, they lay on the same bed — not as strangers, not as classmates — but as husband and wife.
No boundaries.
No lies.
Just them.
And the storm outside.
But on the second night, the mountains had other plans.
By evening, the temperature dropped rapidly. The clouds turned a moody grey, and within hours, the snowfall began — soft at first, then suddenly wild and relentless. The coordinators scrambled to get everyone inside.
“Everyone, stay in your rooms! Do not go out unless it’s an emergency!” the faculty warned. “This storm might go on till morning.”
In the chaos, room keys were mixed up, and students were hurriedly reassigned just to avoid freezing in the corridors.
Aanya had just stepped out to get warm water when she returned to find her door locked… and someone else already inside.
“Room 109? That’s mine now,” a girl shrugged. “Coordinator shifted us last minute. You can check with them if you want, but good luck finding another room.”
Aanya stood in the hallway, jacket pulled tight around her small frame, shivering slightly. Her phone buzzed.
Aarav: Come to my room. 110. Don’t think. Just come.
She hesitated — just for a second.
Then her feet moved on their own.
Room 110 was warm, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of sandalwood and mint — like him.
Aanya closed the door behind her, heart thudding.
Aarav was standing by the window, arms crossed, watching the snow swirl outside.
“Did anyone see you?” he asked without turning around.
“No…” she whispered, still catching her breath.
He turned to her then, eyes scanning her face like she was something fragile yet familiar.
“I didn’t plan this,” he said softly. “But I’m not sending you back out in that storm.”
She nodded, voice barely a murmur. “I didn’t want to go back anyway.”
Silence hung between them, heavy and full.
Then he walked over, gently pulled off her jacket, and draped a blanket around her.
“Your fingers are freezing,” he murmured, cupping her hands in his and rubbing them gently. “What were you thinking, running around in that storm?”
“I needed warm water…” she replied, voice trembling — not from cold, but from being this close to him again.
“To hell with warm water,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “You should’ve told me.”
“I can’t tell you everything, Aarav,” she whispered. “Not here. Not when we have to pretend we’re strangers.”
He looked into her eyes. “Then let’s not pretend tonight.”
He led her to the bed, not with lust — but with something deeper. Something slow, sure, and full of bottled-up affection.
They sat side by side under the thick blanket, their legs touching, hearts racing. The storm howled outside, but inside the room, it was silent — peaceful, even.
Aanya looked down at her hands. “Do you ever regret it?” she asked softly. “Marrying me like that… in secret?”
Aarav turned to her, eyes narrowing slightly. “Never. Not even for a second.”
She blinked away the tears threatening to fall.
He reached out, cupped her face, and said, “We’ll have our time, Aanya. Out in the open. I promise. But for tonight… just be mine.”
She nodded.
And that night, they lay on the same bed — not as strangers, not as classmates — but as husband and wife.
No boundaries.
No lies.
Just them.
And the storm outside.
End of short tales Chapter 21. Continue reading Chapter 22 or return to short tales book page.