Roommates: By Prasad Sawant

Part II: The Midnight Warmth

The air in Dehradun had turned sharp, a cold that bit through sweaters and turned every breath into a fleeting cloud of silver. Inside the hostel, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of old paper and the nervous energy of the upcoming finals. For Arjun, the world had always felt straightforward, but lately, the lines were beginning to blur in ways he couldn't quite name.

It was Neel’s birthday—a day Neel usually spent trying to remain as small as possible to avoid the weight of his father’s "check-in" calls. Arjun, however, had other plans.

"We’re leaving," Arjun said, standing over Neel’s desk and snapping a textbook shut.

"Arjun, the 10:00 PM bell just rang," Neel whispered, eyes wide and frantic. "The warden... he was just in the corridor."

"The warden isn't looking at the back fence, Neel. He's too busy complaining about the heater in the staff room," Arjun countered with a grin, tossing a jacket at him. "Trust me for once? Stop being the 'perfect student' for just two hours."

Minutes later, they were at the edge of the campus where the shadows were deepest. Arjun scaled the rusted iron fence with the fluid grace of an athlete, dropping lightly onto the other side before reaching back to haul Neel over. For a heartbeat, Neel’s hands shook in his, and Arjun felt a strange, grounding heat in the contact.

"I've never actually... broken a rule before," Neel confessed, breathless as they hurried to where Arjun’s old scooter was tucked away.

"Then it’s about time," Arjun laughed, handing him a helmet. "Hold on tight."

As they rode through the misty, quiet streets of Dehradun, the wind whipped past them. Suddenly, Arjun began to sing. It wasn't perfect, and it certainly wasn't quiet; he belted out *Happy Birthday* at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing off the closed storefronts and dark bungalows.

"Arjun! People are sleeping!" Neel shouted, though he was smiling so wide his cheeks ached.

"Let them hear! It’s not every day you turn twenty!" Arjun yelled back over his shoulder. Neel, gripped by a mix of terror and exhilaration, found himself leaning closer into Arjun’s back, his forehead resting briefly against the sturdy fabric of Arjun's jacket.

They pulled up to a secluded park and Arjun popped open the scooter’s dicky, carefully retrieving a small pastry box. They walked into the dark, quiet space and sat on the grass, the blades cool and damp beneath them. Arjun opened the box to reveal a single cupcake.

"I had to guard this from Suyash all day," Arjun joked. "He kept asking why I was keeping the dicky locked. I told him it was engine oil."

Neel looked at the small cake, his voice trembling. "No one’s ever taken me out like this. Usually, my dad just calls to ask if I’ve finished the semester's syllabus as a 'gift' to him."

"Well, your dad isn't here," Arjun said softly. He lit a single match, the tiny flame illuminating the soft planes of Neel's face. "Make a wish, Neel. And don't make it about grades."

Neel closed his eyes, his heart hammering. In that moment, Arjun wasn’t the "popular guy" everyone looked up to; he was just a man who felt a deep, protective necessity to see the boy beside him smile. Arjun’s large hand came to rest over Neel’s on the grass, a steady, silent anchor in the night.

As the pressure of exams intensified, the dynamic in Room 302 shifted into a rhythm of shared struggle. The four of them—Arjun, Neel, Suyash, and Falguni—became a frequent sight in the library’s quietest corners.

Arjun began to notice something new. Neel was remarkably comfortable now. One afternoon, he watched as Suyash adjusted the desk lamp so the light wouldn't hit Neel’s eyes.

"Hey, Neel," Suyash murmured, sliding a bag of almonds across the table. "Eat these. My mom says they’re good for memory, and you’ve been staring at that page for an hour."

"Thanks, Suyash," Neel replied, offering a genuine, warm smile. "But I think I’ve just memorized the coffee stains on the table instead of the theorem."

Suyash laughed, a low, soft sound. "If you fail, we all fail. I’m relying on your notes to pass the elective, remember?"

Arjun watched the exchange, noticing the way their hands occasionally brushed when exchanging highlighters. Surprisingly, Arjun didn't feel a sting of jealousy. Instead, he felt a wave of genuine happiness. He felt like a guardian who had successfully helped a fragile soul find its footing. To Arjun, his own feelings hadn't yet been labeled as 'love'; he simply felt proud that he had brought Neel into this circle.

Falguni leaned toward Arjun, her voice a quiet murmur. "He’s different now, isn't he? He actually laughs."

"He does," Arjun agreed, his gaze lingering on Neel. "I didn't think he had it in him when he first moved in. I’m glad Suyash is being... decent for once."

"Suyash isn't just being decent," Falguni noted with a knowing smile. "He’s completely charmed. We all are."

The end of the term arrived with the cold finality of a closing door. The morning the hostel gates opened, a heavy, polished car pulled up. Neel’s parents had arrived.

The atmosphere turned brittle. Neel’s father stood by the car, checking his watch. "The trunks are packed, Neel? Good. We have a long drive. I’ve already bought the advanced reference books for your summer break. We’ll start the schedule tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Appa," Neel said, his voice dropping back into that hollow, obedient tone.

Arjun and Suyash stood together by the car. Suyash stepped forward, shaking Neel’s hand firmly. "Text me, okay? If you get bored of the books, I'll send you memes until your phone explodes."

"I will, Suyash. Thank you for... everything," Neel said softly.

Then Arjun stepped up. He looked at Neel’s father, then back to Neel. He reached out, his hand squeezing Neel’s shoulder—a final, grounding touch that felt electric in the morning chill.

"Don't forget the ride on the scooter, Neel," Arjun whispered, his eyes searching Neel's. "The wind, the singing... remember that when it gets too quiet at home. The summer is long, but it isn't forever."

Neel looked at him, his eyes swimming with an unspoken, aching regret. "I'll remember, Arjun. I won't forget a single second."

Neel climbed into the back seat, but as the car pulled away, he didn't look back with sadness. He looked forward, catching Arjun’s eye in the rearview mirror and offering a small, resolute wave. He wasn't going back to a cage; he was just taking a temporary leave from the place where he had finally found his voice.

​As the car disappeared into the Dehradun mist, Arjun stood with Suyash and Falguni, a peaceful smile on his face. He knew that Neel was going home as a different person, and the wait for next semester didn't feel like a burden—it felt like a countdown to a homecoming.