The Backstory
Akshit was hundreds of kilometers away, buried somewhere between exhausting schedules, late-night work, and a city Meera had started resenting simply because it had him instead of her.
Most days, they managed the distance well enough.
Calls between classes.Half-asleep voice notes.Random pictures throughout the day that said more than actual conversations sometimes could.
But there were nights when the distance felt unbearable in the smallest ways.
When she’d turn instinctively to say something and remember he wasn’t beside her.When his hoodie hanging over her chair felt more present than he was.When hearing his voice only reminded her that she couldn’t touch him.
Tonight was one of those nights.
The kind where missing him sat quietly in her chest no matter how normal the conversation sounded.
The scene
The call had gone quiet in the comfortable way it usually did after midnight.
Akshit was lying in bed somewhere hundreds of kilometers away, his voice softer now with sleep. I sat cross-legged on my kitchen counter in an oversized sweatshirt, absentmindedly peeling the label off a water bottle while listening to him talk about something meaningless.
“…and then the HOD had the audacity to say it was ‘a learning opportunity,’” he muttered.
I hummed softly, smiling.
I wasn’t even listening properly anymore.
Not because I didn’t care.
But because sometimes hearing his voice made the distance louder.
“You there?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“You got quiet.”
“I’m listening.”
“No, you’re thinking.”
I sighed dramatically. “Wow. You know me too well.”
“That’s literally my job.”
A small silence followed.
Akshit shifted on his pillow, phone rustling faintly near his ear. “What happened?”
I looked around the apartment.
The sink still had dishes from dinner.
The ceiling fan made that tiny clicking sound again. So I reached for the switch board and turned it off.
His hoodie hung over the chair beside me like it belonged there permanently.
Everything looked normal.
But suddenly none of it felt complete.
“I just…” I stopped myself.
“What?”
My fingers tightened slightly around the bottle cap.
“I hate that when something nice happens, I can’t reach for you automatically.”
Akshit went quiet immediately.
I stared at the floor tiles while speaking.
“Like right now. I can hear you. I can see you.” my voice softened. “But I can’t touch you.”
Something in the sentence shifted the mood entirely.
“I miss stupid things,” I admitted with a small laugh. “Not even romantic things half the time.”
“Like?” he questioned with a soft smile
“You tasting the food while I cook.”
“You pulling me closer absentmindedly.”
“Me watching you play football, and that smirk you give me when you kick the goal.”
“You touching my hand while talking without realizing it.”
Akshit swallowed visibly on the screen.
I smiled weakly.
“Do you know how insane it is that sometimes I physically ache to just sit next to you and do absolutely nothing?”
He looked at me for a long second before speaking.
“If it helps,” he murmured, “I miss you in terrifyingly specific ways too, Meera.”
My chest tightened.
“Like what?” I repeat his question but I know the answer for that.
He smiled sleepily.
“Like how you tuck your cold feet under my legs.”
“How you talk to yourself while studying.”
“How you move my arm away dramatically and then get annoyed if I stop touching you.”
A helpless smile escaped me despite the ache building in my chest.
“That last one is true.”
“I know.”
The silence after that wasn’t empty.
It was full of longing.
The kind that sits gently between two people who love each other enough to survive distance but still secretly resent it.
Akshit’s voice dropped softer.
“Come here.”
I almost smiled at how instinctively he said it.
“As if I can.”
“I know,” he whispered. “Still. Come here.”
And somehow those two impossible words nearly broke her more than the distance itself.
Let us know , what happens if the distance escapes the matrix...
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