May We Were More Than Friends💛

The first thing Anaya ever threw at Kabir was a broken crayon.

She was five years old, angry, and absolutely convinced that the red crayon belonged to her.

Kabir, who was six and already talented at irritating people, held the crayon high above his head and grinned proudly.

“It’s mine.”

“You stole it!”

“You dropped it.”

“That still means it’s mine!”

“No evidence.”

Anaya’s tiny face turned red with anger before she threw another crayon directly at him.

Their mothers had panicked.

Their fathers had laughed.

And somehow, that strange little fight became the beginning of everything.

Years passed, but nothing really changed between them.

Kabir still annoyed her every single day.
Anaya still threatened to hit him at least twice daily.

They lived in the same neighborhood, studied in the same school, and spent more time together than with anyone else. Everyone around them believed they were basically family.

Only they knew it never felt that simple.

By the time they reached high school, their friendship had become something natural and unbreakable.

Kabir entered Anaya’s house without knocking.

Anaya stole food from his refrigerator like it legally belonged to her.

Their mothers had stopped questioning it years ago.

One Sunday afternoon, Anaya walked into Kabir’s room holding a bowl of chips.

Kabir was lying dramatically across the bed while pretending to study physics.

“Why do humans need physics?” he groaned. “Who even decided gravity was necessary?”

Anaya sat beside him. “You failed the last test, didn’t you?”

Kabir looked offended. “I prefer the term academically misunderstood.”

“You got twelve marks.”

“Exactly. Misunderstood.”

Anaya burst out laughing.

Kabir stared at her for a second longer than necessary.

Her laugh had changed over the years.

When they were children, it used to be loud and messy. Now it was softer, warmer, and somehow dangerous for his heartbeat.

He quickly looked away.

“Stop laughing like that,” he muttered.

“Like what?”

“Like a cartoon villain.”

She threw a chip at him.

Kabir smirked.

This was normal.
This was safe.

Because neither of them spoke about the strange feelings quietly growing between them.

At school, Anaya acted confident, but Kabir noticed everything nobody else did.

He noticed when she skipped lunch because she was stressed.

He noticed when fake smiles replaced real ones.

And he especially noticed when boys stared at her too much.

One afternoon during basketball practice, a senior from another class started talking to Anaya near the water cooler.

Kabir watched from across the court.

At first, he ignored it.

Then the senior touched Anaya’s shoulder while laughing.

Kabir stopped dribbling instantly.

His friend Aarush noticed immediately.

“Oh no,” Aarush sighed dramatically. “The husband instincts are activating.”

Kabir glared at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You literally look ready to fight someone.”

Kabir grabbed his water bottle aggressively.

Meanwhile, Anaya looked uncomfortable but too polite to leave the conversation.

Within seconds, Kabir walked over casually and stood beside her.

“Coach is calling you,” he lied smoothly.

Anaya blinked. “What?”

Kabir looked directly at her.

“Now.”

Something in his expression made her understand immediately.

“Oh. Right.”

She quickly escaped with him.

The moment they walked away, Anaya looked up at him suspiciously.

“Coach wasn’t calling me.”

“Nope.”

“You lied?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Kabir shrugged casually. “That guy was weird.”

Anaya smiled slightly.

“You were jealous.”

Kabir almost choked on air. “Absolutely not.”

“You interrupted us in under thirty seconds.”

“He had a punchable face.”

Anaya laughed so hard she nearly dropped her bottle.

Kabir tried not to smile, but failed miserably.

The problem with Kabir was simple.

He could protect Anaya from everyone except himself.

And the problem with Anaya was even worse.

She trusted Kabir so much that she never noticed how carefully he handled her heart.

During winter, their city became unusually cold.

One morning, Anaya arrived at school without a sweater because she was running late.

The moment Kabir saw her shivering, he frowned.

“Where’s your jacket?”

“I forgot.”

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

Right then, she sneezed loudly.

Kabir stared at her silently before removing his hoodie and tossing it toward her face.

“Wear it.”

“You’ll feel cold.”

“I’d rather die than hear you sneeze again.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“You’re dramatic.”

Still, she wore the hoodie.

It smelled faintly like coffee and his cologne.

And unfortunately, that made her heart behave stupidly.

Later during class, Anaya rested her chin on her hand while secretly staring at Kabir.

His messy hair.

His sleepy expression.

The tiny scar near his eyebrow from when he fell off his bicycle at age thirteen while trying to impress her.

Without realizing it, she smiled softly.

Her best friend Meera noticed immediately.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re in love with him.”

Anaya nearly fell from her chair.

“What?! No!”

Meera looked unconvinced.

“Anaya, you look at him like he invented happiness.”

“I do not.”

At that exact moment, Kabir turned around suddenly.

Their eyes met.

And both looked away immediately.

Meera covered her face dramatically.

“This is painful to watch.”

Neither of them confessed.

Not because the feelings weren’t real.

But because they were terrified.

Terrified that one confession could ruin years of friendship.

Because what they had already felt precious.

Every late-night phone call.

Every shared secret.

Every comfortable silence.

Every small moment that felt bigger than it should.

One rainy evening after tuition, heavy rain trapped them beneath a tiny shop roof.

Kabir checked the sky. “We’re doomed.”

Anaya sighed. “Mom’s going to think I got kidnapped.”

“You? Kidnappers would return you in ten minutes.”

She hit his arm immediately.

“Ow!”

“You deserved that.”

Rain poured heavily around them while cold wind filled the quiet street.

For once, neither spoke.

Then suddenly lightning flashed loudly.

Anaya flinched instinctively.

Without thinking, Kabir moved closer beside her.

“It’s okay,” he said softly.

Something about his voice made her calm down instantly.

They stood there quietly, shoulders touching lightly.

The world felt strangely smaller in that moment.

Safer.

Warmer.

Kabir looked down at her.

Wet hair. Soft eyes. Tiny nervous smile.

His heart betrayed him completely.

He loved her.

Not suddenly.

Not dramatically.

He had loved her slowly for years.

In shared chocolates.
In protective gestures.
In arguments that never truly mattered.
In every moment she became the first person he wanted to tell things to.

Anaya looked up at him.

“What?”

Kabir opened his mouth.

Maybe this was the moment.

Maybe he should finally say it.

Maybe he should tell her that nobody else had ever felt like home the way she did.

But fear stopped him.

What if things changed?

What if she stepped away?

What if he lost the most important person in his life?

So instead, he simply sighed and said—

“You’re impossible.”

Anaya smiled softly.

“And yet you’re still here.”

Kabir smiled back quietly.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Always.”

Neither of them realized that sometimes love doesn’t need grand confessions immediately.

Sometimes it exists in smaller things.

In remembering how someone takes their tea.

In waiting for them after class.

In fighting over useless things just to make them laugh again.

And sometimes…

the deepest love stories begin long before the words
“I love you”
are ever spoken.