Part 43: Same Society, Same Sky
Saturday arrived without an alarm.
For the first time in weeks, sunlight entered the flat gently instead of urgently. It stretched across the floor, climbed the edge of the sofa, and settled lazily over the stack of untouched notebooks on the table.
Catherine did not move immediately.
She lay on her side, half-awake, watching the ceiling fan spin in slow, indifferent circles.
“It feels illegal,” she murmured.
From the kitchen came the sound of a spoon tapping against ceramic. Edward, already awake, leaned against the counter with two cups of tea.
“What feels illegal?” he asked.
“Waking up naturally.”
He smiled faintly. “We deserve one day without deadlines.”
Her phone buzzed loudly against the bedside table.
She squinted at the screen.
Shawn:
We are officially homeless for the next two hours. Bring help.
Another message followed.
Ahana:
We have the keys. Come by 9.
Catherine blinked, then laughed softly.
Edward raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess.”
“They’ve started shifting.”
He sighed theatrically. “So much for a slow Saturday.”
She pushed herself up. “We signed up for this.”
He handed her the tea.
“Yes,” he said. “Apparently we did.”
The New Flat — First Look
The new flat was in the next lane of the same society.
Close enough to walk barefoot if necessary. Far enough to feel independent.
When Edward and Catherine reached, the scene already looked dramatic.
Boxes lined the corridor. A mattress leaned awkwardly against the wall. A bewildered mover stood holding a chair upside down while Shawn gestured wildly at nothing in particular.
“No, no, angle it slightly,” Shawn insisted. “Physics is about belief.”
The mover stared blankly. “Sir, it is a sofa.”
Edward stepped in smoothly. “Here. Lift from this side.”
Catherine walked past them into the flat.
It was smaller than theirs — but bright. A square living room with a sliding balcony door. Two compact bedrooms. Clean walls. The faint smell of fresh paint and possibility.
Ahana stood in the center, hands on hips, surveying the chaos with calm calculation.
“You’re late,” she said mildly.
“It’s 9:03,” Catherine replied.
“Exactly.”
They smiled at each other.
Shifting Chaos
Within minutes, everyone was moving.
Edward carried the bookshelf, muscles tightening under his t-shirt as he maneuvered it through the doorway.
“It won’t fit like that,” Catherine warned.
“It will,” he said.
It did not.
Shawn clapped slowly. “Structural integrity challenged.”
Edward shot him a look. “Hold the door.”
Meanwhile, Catherine opened a kitchen box.
She froze.
“Why,” she called out, “do you own seven tea strainers?”
Ahana didn’t look up from arranging plates. “We lose them.”
“We don’t,” Shawn protested from across the room. “We misplace them with confidence.”
Catherine held one up. “This is industrial grade.”
“Preparedness,” Shawn declared.
Edward dropped another box near the couch. “What’s in this one?”
“Books,” Shawn said casually.
Edward attempted to lift it again. “This weighs like guilt.”
“Knowledge is heavy,” Shawn replied solemnly.
Ahana rolled her eyes but smiled.
The Small Domestic Moments
By late morning, sweat had replaced enthusiasm.
Curtains were up. Mattress laid flat. Kitchen mostly operational.
Catherine stepped onto the balcony and pushed the sliding door fully open. A soft breeze flowed inside, carrying the scent of trees and distant cooking.
Ahana joined her quietly.
“It feels different,” Ahana said.
“From the old place?” Catherine asked.
“From everything.”
Catherine looked at the opposite lane — their building visible between trees.
“We’re close,” she said.
Ahana nodded. “That helps.”
Inside, Edward and Shawn crouched beside the Wi-Fi router.
“It’s blinking red,” Shawn muttered.
“That usually means something,” Edward replied.
Shawn squinted at the cables. “I could hack the provider.”
Edward unplugged the router calmly. “Or we could plug it properly.”
Thirty seconds later, it connected.
Shawn stared at it in disbelief. “Sometimes I hate simple solutions.”
Afternoon Pause
By the time the last box was opened, all four of them were sitting on the floor.
No chairs. No ceremony.
Shawn lay flat against the cool tiles.
“We have survived relocation.”
“It’s just a few Km away,” Ahana said dryly.
“Emotionally,” he insisted, “it was Everest.”
Catherine leaned back against the wall. Edward sat beside her, shoulder brushing hers lightly.
He looked around the flat thoughtfully.
“It’s good,” he said.
Ahana exhaled softly. “It is.”
Catherine nodded. “It feels like we’re building something.”
Not just apartments.
A circle.
Dinner Invitation
As the afternoon sun tilted golden, Catherine stood.
“You’re not cooking tonight.”
Ahana opened her mouth.
“No,” Catherine insisted. “You’re coming over.”
Shawn raised his hand. “Is this a formal invitation or emotional coercion?”
“Both,” Edward replied.
Shawn grinned. “We accept.”
Evening — Under One Roof Again
Back at Edward and Catherine’s flat, the atmosphere felt warmer.
Shoes were kicked aside. Windows opened. Music played softly from someone’s phone.
Catherine prepared a simple dinner — rice, bamboo shoots, and mutton. Edward helped her in the kitchen, chopping and stirring beside her.
Ahana arranged plates. Shawn set the table incorrectly and was corrected twice.
They ate cross-legged on the floor, passing bowls, stealing pieces from each other’s plates without asking.
Conversation flowed easily.
“So,” Shawn began between bites, “separate specialisations. How long before we become too important to sit together?”
“Never,” Catherine said immediately.
Edward nodded. “Not if we decide it doesn’t happen.”
Ahana stirred her food thoughtfully. “Growing isn’t the problem.”
“What is?” Shawn asked.
“Forgetting to return,” she said quietly.
Silence settled — not heavy, but reflective.
Edward broke it gently. “We’re not just classmates anymore.”
Catherine looked around the room — at the plates, the clutter, the familiarity.
“We’re building a life here.”
Shawn placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Please don’t get sentimental. I just moved furniture.”
They laughed.
Balcony — Same Sky
Later, they stepped onto the balcony.
Across the lane, two lit windows faced each other — one theirs, the other Shawn and Ahana’s.
Shawn pointed. “Look. Our window.”
Catherine smiled. “Same society. Same sky.”
Ahana rested her arms on the railing, gazing outward.
“It’s easier this way,” she said.
Edward glanced at Catherine.
“Yes,” he agreed softly. “It is.”
The night air carried quiet comfort — no urgency, no deadlines, no expectations pressing in.
Just proximity.
Just presence.
They walked Shawn and Ahana back — literally one lane away.
“Emergency Maggi at midnight?” Shawn asked.
“Always,” Edward replied.
“Sometimes.” Ahana shook her head.
They waved goodnight.
Edward and Catherine walked back slowly.
Inside their flat, the quiet felt fuller than before.
Catherine leaned against the door after locking it.
“It feels different,” she said.
“How?” Edward asked.
“Like… we’re not just passing through anymore.”
He stepped closer, resting his forehead briefly against hers.
“We’re not.”
Outside, two windows glowed under the same stretch of sky.
They hadn’t changed cities.
They hadn’t changed dreams.
But by living closer —
the world felt steadier.
And for now,
that was enough.
