It was morning.

After the party, everyone had returned home. Palak and Kriti, along with Anushka, had left early since they lived far away.

Manya stayed back to help Vatsal clean up the house and deal with the post-party mess. Arnav and Adhvik had also left earlier after receiving calls from home.

Anushka woke up with a pounding headache.

As she blinked her eyes open, the blurred view slowly cleared. She realized she had fallen asleep sitting at her study table, trying to distract herself by studying.
A soft beam of sunlight filtered through the curtains. She turned her head slightly and saw it was already 8 o'clock in the morning. Letting out a deep breath, she pushed herself up, then walked to her bed and lay down, one hand resting on her forehead for support.

Her eyes fixated on the ceiling as thoughts from the night before began to flood her mind.

Anushka's POV:

I've spent the best days of my teenage life with these people-my friends.

I never imagined I'd be this lucky when it came to friendships. I never craved a flashy life, never saw myself as the party type... but something in me has changed. I want to go out now. I want to hang out. I want to be involved.

There's a strange kind of joy in their laughter-a comfort I didn't know I needed. I've started finding happiness in their happiness. And maybe that's why I'm scared. I don't want to ruin these friendships.

I never liked Vatsal. I mean, the rumors about him-about the girls, the flings-they were always around. But still, I chose to believe otherwise. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I thought maybe, just maybe, the world had painted the wrong picture of him.

But now... it feels like the universe is trying to tell me something. Maybe it's time I listen. Maybe it's time I take a step back.

"I SHOULD STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. Ugh!!!!"

I screamed at myself internally and grabbed my phone from the bed. Honestly, mobile phones are the best distraction sometimes.

As I unlocked the screen, I saw 15 missed calls from Mom. My heart skipped for a second-15? What happened? I quickly opened her messages.

Mom:
"Beta, ek important seminar ke liye Silvassa jana padega.
Aaj dada ji ki death anniversary hai toh tu Gurdwara chale jana, Palak ko leke. Hum kal shaam tak lautenge."

("Son, I have to go to Silvassa for an important seminar. Today is your grandfather's death anniversary, so you go to the Gurdwara with Palak. We'll be back by tomorrow evening.")

I looked at the message and smiled faintly "Nothing new."
With a soft sigh, I swiped my phone, closing the messaging app. As the home screen appeared, my eyes caught the familiar widget photo - a cherished memory.

Pov ends

There she was, a little girl in her UKG school uniform, beaming with pride, standing beside her grandfather. In her tiny hands, she held her first medal - a phonics competition victory. The joy on her face was pure and unfiltered, mirrored by the gentle pride in her grandfather's eyes.

Anushka's smile lingered, deeper this time - touched by nostalgia.
Finally, her mind drifted away from thoughts of the last party.
With quiet resolve, she stood and walked over to her desk.

Reaching up, she opened the cabinet above and pulled out an old cardboard box, which was painted white and cute doodles were made on it, its surface blanketed in dust- untouched for a long time. She closed the cabinet softly and took a moment to straighten the small mess on the desk, as if preparing the space for what came next.

Then, without a word, she lowered herself onto the pink pastel carpet that stretched across her room like a soft memory, grounding her in the present as the past slowly crept back in.

She looked down at the box. Memory Box - the words were written in elegant black calligraphy, adorned with tiny pearls, stickers, and glitter that had dulled slightly with time, yet still shimmered under the soft light of her room.

Carefully, she opened the lid.
Inside lay fragments of her world - pieces of people who had mattered, who still mattered. Letters folded with care, dried flowers pressed between pages, birthday cards with familiar handwriting, old parcel packaging she couldn't throw away, bracelets once tied on wrists that now felt far away, and photos - so many photos.

She sifted through them gently, as if touching time itself.
The ones from Imagica - soaked in laughter and sun. Then the photos from the football match, messy and full of energy, her group huddled together mid-cheer. These were the ones who had become her chosen family, the constants in a world that often shifted.

Her fingers paused on a photo from Navratri. Vatsal, crouched before her, was tying her payal, her toes resting on his thighs with a kind of unspoken trust. A faint smile crept onto her lips, and her cheeks warmed with the memory.

Photo after photo passed- her with Palak and Manya, snapshots of café tables, half-eaten desserts, shared glances, and endless conversations captured in still frames.

Then came the pictures from childhood- her and Arnav in colorful Punjabi attire, grinning without a care, the simplicity of that time now feeling like something rare.

Finally, at the bottom of the box, lay something quieter.
A family photo.

Her and her grandfather at the playground - he was pushing her on the swing, her face lit with joy.

She held the photo close to her heart. It made her feel warm. The past wasn't gone- it was right here, stitched into every paper, every thread, every smile frozen in time.

Anushka had always been someone who loved small moments. She saved everything- even things that looked useless to others. Her first mobile phone, a gift from her parents, didn't work anymore. But she still kept it. She also kept the old parcel package Arnav had sent her when they were far apart but still close friends.

She gets attached to things easily, but she never showed it. People thought she moved on quickly. But the truth was in this box- full of letters, pictures, cards, and little memories.

Her grandfather had been the only one in her small family who truly understood her. He saw how much the little things meant to her. He cheered for her small wins, clapped when she got a gold star, and celebrated her birthdays like they were the most special days of the year.
Her parents were always busy with work. They missed birthdays and school events. But her grandfather never did.

Now, looking at the photo of him pushing her on the swing, she smiled. Her eyes were a little wet, but her heart felt full. It wasn't sadness. It was something softer. Something that hurt only because it had once felt so safe and happy.

As Anushka sat there, lost in her little world of memories, her phone rang loudly from across the room.

She quickly got up, wiped her eyes, and answered the call.
It was Palak.
"Anu, sunn... main tere ghar aa rahi hoon. Mujhe Aunty ka message aaya tha- vo kal aayengi. Mujhe apne ghar mein nahi rehna," she said in one breath. "Mumma khana bhejwa dengi, wahi hum dono ke liye."

("Anu, listen... I'm coming to your place. I got a message from Aunty- she'll be coming tomorrow. I don't want to stay at my house,"
"Mumma will send food, that'll be for both of us.")

Before Anushka could say anything, Palak cut the call. Her voice had sounded heavy, like she had been crying.
Anushka stood still, phone in hand. Something wasn't right. She could feel it.

Ding-dong, The doorbell rang.
Anushka quickly put all the photos and letters back into the memory box. She closed it gently, as if not to disturb the feelings inside. Then she placed it on the desk and covered it with her school bag, hiding it from sight.
She rushed to the door and opened it.

Palak was standing there, her eyes red, face tired. She didn't say anything - just stepped forward and hugged Anushka tightly.

Anushka held her without asking questions.

Sometimes, you don't need words to understand when someone's heart is heavy.

After a moment, they let go of the hug. Palak walked inside without looking at Anushka. She didn't want to meet her eyes. She didn't want to answer any questions.

She quietly placed her bag on the center table and sat down on the sofa.

Anushka closed the door behind her and walked over to her. She sat down gently beside her.

"Tu theek hai?" Anushka asked softly, her own voice shaking a little.

("Are you okay?")

"Haan, sahi hoon. Mujhe kya hoga?" Palak replied with a small smile, a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

("Yeah, I'm fine. What could happen to me?")

"Bass ghar mein nahi rehna tha. Kriti di aur mummy subha se peeche pad gaye- 'kya hua, ye kya, vo kya.'

("I just didn't want to stay at home. Kriti di and Mumma have been after me since morning - 'What happened? What's this? What's that.')

"Mujhe kya hoga? Main theek hoon. Fit and fine," she added, forcing another smile.

("What could happen to me? I'm fine. Fit and fine")

Her voice cracked, and Anushka could see through it all.

She smiled at her and thought, Dumbo.

She knew Palak wasn't fine. But this wasn't the right time to ask too much.
So instead, she simply said, "Ice cream khayegi?"

("Want to have ice cream?")

Palak nodded quietly.
Anushka stood up and walked to the kitchen. She opened the freezer, took out the ice cream box- chocolate chip (Palak's favorite) and grabbed two spoons.

She came back to the living room where Palak had already picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

Netflix was open. Palak was scrolling through shows without really looking at them, just trying to distract herself.

Anushka sat beside her, placed the ice cream box between them, and handed her a spoon.

No words. No questions. Just quiet understanding.
Sometimes, being there was enough.

They started watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S, the familiar theme song playing softly in the background. Both girls sat close, sharing spoonfuls of ice cream, letting the laughter from the show fill the silence between them.

Suddenly, Anushka's phone pinged.

She picked it up and saw the time - it was already 12. Her eyes widened a little. She had to go to the Gurdwara and then the temple, It was her grandfather's death anniversary. Every year on this day, she served langar and visited temples, a small tradition she had kept alive just for him.
Even if no one else remembered, she always did.

She looked at Palak, who was staring at the screen but not really watching, She didn't want to leave her alone, not when she was clearly hurting. But she also didn't want to skip the one thing that still connected her to her grandfather.

"Oye, sunn..." she started, her voice soft. She paused, unsure if she should ask.

("Hey...listen")

Then, gently, she said, "Tu... chalna chahegi mere saath? Aaj dadaji ki death anniversary hai. Gurdwara aur mandir jaa rahi hoon."

("Would you... want to come with me? It's Grandpa's death anniversary today. I'm going to the Gurdwara and the temple.")

Palak looked at her. "Aaj bhi uncle-aunty nahi aa paaye? Tum log toh saath mein jaate the, right?" she asked, giving a completely done, tired expression.

("Uncle and Aunty couldn't make it today either? You guys always went together, right?")

Anushka smiled softly and let out a small sigh. "Seminar ke liye Silvassa jaana pada," she said.

("They had to go to Silvassa for a seminar,")

"Sure," Palak replied, almost sarcastically, as if she wasn't even surprised anymore.

There was a short pause.
"Anu, sorry... mera bilkul Mann nahi kar raha kahin jaane ka. Aur... mujhe periods hai toh tu chale jaa," Palak added, trying to sound casual.

("Anu, sorry... I really don't feel like going anywhere. And... I have my periods, so you go,")

Anushka turned to her with a half-smile and rolled her eyes.
"Jhooth toh dhang se bol liya kar," she said, laughing. "Teri date abhi nahi hai."

("At least lie properly,"
"It's not your date yet.")

Palak gave a small, guilty smile, caught.

Anushka stood up, brushing crumbs from her pajamas.
"Main jaake aati hoon... tu rest kar, okay? Akele bore hogi, toh Manya ko bhi bula leti hoon. Don't worry." She didn't want to leave Palak alone.

("I'll go... you get some rest, okay? If you get bored alone, I'll call Manya over too. Don't worry.")
___

Manya was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone like usual. Nothing special just memes, reels, and random updates.

She was half-bored when suddenly, something made her fingers stop.

A story. Adhvik's story.

She tapped on it.
"2 minutes ago," it said.

And there he was flexing his forearms in the gym mirror, sleeves rolled up, sweat on his arms.

Manya blinked. Then gulped.
What the hell? she said to herself, staring at the screen in pure shock.

Adhvik? The guy who never even posted gym selfies? Who always sent memes and food stories instead? Now suddenly spamming workout stories like a fitness influencer?

She quickly tapped to the next story. Another one. This time lifting weights.

Her heart beat just a little faster, not that she would admit it out loud.

After watching all of Adhvik's gym stories- Yes, all of them. Manya tapped on his profile. His profile picture had changed.
Another gym selfie. Sleeveless. Flexing again.

Manya made a weird face, clearly judging him hard.

"Aaye haaye, saare laal jhande wale kaam kara lo," she said aloud, rolling her eyes. "Janab body toh aise dikha rahe jaise sab mar rahe ho dekhne ke liye."

("Oh wow, just go ahead and do all the red-flag things,"
"Mister's showing off his body like the whole world is dying to see it.")

She shook her head, annoyed.
"Body hai toh kya? Sabko dikhani zaroori hai kya?" she grumbled, even though she had watched every single story just now.

("So what if you have a body? Does that mean you have to show it to everyone?")

Before she could continue her internal rant, her phone pinged.

Anushka: "Sunn, ghar aaja. Main bahar ja rahi hoon, Palak yahin hai... thodi down hai. Mereko jaana hoga, par tu aaja, koi rahega uske saath toh sahi hoga."

("Listen, come over. I'm heading out, Palak's here... she's a bit down. I have to go, but it'll be good if someone stays with her.")

Manya's expression softened.
Without thinking twice, she replied: "Okay done. Coming."

Honestly, she was bored anyway. And now pissed too- thanks to Mr. Suddenly-Gym-Boy-Adhvik.
She got up, changed into comfy jeans and a loose tee, tied her hair up, grabbed her tote bag, and called Vatsal, brother and her part time personal driver.

The phone rang just twice before Vatsal picked up.
"Haan ji Devi, bataiye... kaise yaad kiya apne phool jaise bhai ko?" Vatsal answered dramatically, still lying on his bed.

("Yes, Your Highness, tell me... what made you remember your flower-like brother today?")

Manya rolled her eyes as she bent down to tie her shoelace.
"Phool jaise bhai? Phool jaise ka toh pata nahi... rakshas jaise do bhai hai, unme se ek ki zarurat hai filhaal- Anushka ke ghar jaana hai."

("Flower-like brother? I don't know about flower-like... more like one of my two demon brothers- I just need one of them right now. I have to go to Anushka's place.")

Vatsal smirked. "Kyun jana hai? Aur main kyun aau? Rapibo kar le na." he said, just to tease her.

("Why do you need to go? And why should I come? Just Rapibo it,")

[A/N]: ~Koi Rapido hota hai nahi likhega, rapido waale paise thodi de rhe advertisement karne ka🤡~

"Maine Rapibo ka premium le rakha hai, shaanti se aa jao," she replied, clearly annoyed but used to his nonsense.

("I already have Rapibo premium, now come quietly,")

Vatsal groaned and sat up. "Aa raha hoon... 10 minute mein ghar ke paas aake call karta hoon."

("I'm coming... I'll call when I'm near the house in 10 minutes")

Manya ended the call with a small smirk.

At least someone was consistent in her life even if it was a sarcastic personal driver/best friend/brother combo.
Vatsal finally got up from his bed.

He had been lying there since morning, feeling lazy and a little weird. His body was tired, and so was his mind- like he was stuck in a loop of yesterday's memories.

---
Vatsal's POV:

Since morning, I haven't felt like doing anything. Just... blank. Probably still tired from yesterday's party.

But yeah, good thing everything went well. We actually pulled it off - the plan, the games, the surprises. It was a successful party.

And the best part? We made Aadarsh and his team lose the game- even after they tried cheating. That moment was gold. The look on their faces... totally worth it.

But what's been stuck in my head the most isn't that.
It's her.

For the first time, Anu actually danced with me properly. No eye-rolls, no sarcastic comebacks. She even agreed to be my partner for the game. It felt... nice. Like something clicked.

But then - I don't know.
Something changed at the end of the party.

I had prepared so much for yesterday.

I thought... I really thought I would finally tell her.
Tell Anushka how I feel.
It's been in my head for so long now, and I'd planned everything perfectly.

The party, the games, the music- all of it. I wanted the day to be special, not just for everyone, but for her.

But things didn't go the way I wanted.

During the competition, I got so busy- running around, making sure everything was on time, people were in place, no one messed up the schedule...
I didn't even get a moment alone with her.

And by the time I thought I'd finally talk to her... she had already left.

Palak wasn't feeling well, I think. She left with Kriti and Anushka. No goodbye. No explanation. Just gone.

But what's bothering me the most isn't that I couldn't confess.
She went quiet. Weirdly quiet. Didn't even say goodbye properly. Just left.

It's the way Anushka looked when she left.

She wasn't okay.
There was something in her eyes- like she was holding back. And I've been trying to convince myself that I'm overthinking...
But I know her.

And that wasn't just tiredness. That was something else.
And I've been replaying that in my head all morning.
Did I say something? Did I mess up again?

...

I rushed to the shoe rack and grabbed my sneakers.
Without wasting a second, I slipped them on, hopping on one foot like an idiot while trying to balance.

Then I snatched the bike keys from the hook.

The keychain dangled - a tiny pink bow.

Yeah... that bow keychain.
The one that technically belonged to Anushka.
Borrowed it? Maybe.
Took it without telling her? Also true.
Whatever.

It was on my key now, and weirdly, I liked seeing it there.
I didn't have time to overthink it- I shoved the keys in my pocket and ran outside.

The sun hit my face as I stepped out. The streets were buzzing, but my mind was louder.
I had people to meet, questions I wanted answers to, and maybe... feelings I still hadn't figured out how to say.

Pov ends

Anushka stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her head, still drying her hair.

As she walked into the room, she noticed Palak standing quietly near the window, arms folded, just staring outside.

Surprisingly quiet.

Anushka raised an eyebrow. That wasn't like Palak.

To get her attention, she whined playfully,
"Oye, dress nikal acchi si! Kya pehnu, samajh hi nahi aa raha!"

("Hey, take out a nice dress! I have no idea what to wear!")

She walked to the cupboard dramatically, hoping to pull Palak out of whatever thoughts were keeping her stuck.
Palak didn't say anything for a second - just blinked, slowly turned away from the window, and looked at her.

Then, without a word, she walked over and started going through the cupboard like she always did - focused, serious, like it was a life mission.

After a minute of searching, she held up a pastel blue kurti set.
She raised her eyebrows and gave Anushka a small nod, as if saying, "This one."

Sometimes, when the heart is heavy, helping someone else is the easiest way to breathe again.

Anushka wore the pastel blue kurti Palak had picked, it fit her perfectly, falling elegantly around her like it was made just for her.

She stood in front of the mirror, finishing her look with quiet focus.

In each ear, she had two piercings one on the lobe and the other just above it. On one ear, she wore a small silver jhumka in the lower piercing and a delicate triangular stone stud just above, same on the other side.

Her feet were slipped into jhuttis decorated with tiny mirror work that caught the light as she moved.

Around her wrist, she wore a simple bracelet made of small blue beads, with one stone at the center that matched her kurti exactly, hairs open and a sling bag with lip balm and a cluthcher.

Palak, now sitting cross-legged on the bed, watched her quietly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Kitna taiyaar hogi," she teased, now feeling better.

("How much more are you going to get ready?")

Anushka rolled her eyes and smiled back in the mirror. "Ho gayi. Insaan toh dikhu isliye itna effort lena padta hai bhaar Jane ke liye"

("Done. I have to put in this much effort just to look human before stepping out.")

The doorbell rang.

Anushka quickly stepped into her sandals and walked downstairs to open the door.

Upstairs, Palak slowly got up and walked out to the balcony, just to see who it was.

Down at the door stood Manya, beside her was Vatsal,
The moment Manya saw Anushka, she smiled wide and hugged her tightly.

Vatsal, on the other hand, just stood there. Mouth slightly open.
He looked at Anushka like he had seen an alien.

As if walking into Anushka's house and actually seeing Anushka was the most shocking thing ever.

Palak, watching the whole scene from the balcony, burst out laughing. Softly.

Anushka, Manya, and Vatsal all looked up at once, confused.

Palak quickly held onto the railing, laughing for the first time in day
Anushka placed a hand on her waist and called up,
"Subah se chiddh-chiddh karne ke baad ab hass rahi hai?"

("After grumbling all morning, now you're laughing?")

Palak, still laughing, shook her head.
"Bas... tumhare expressions dekh liye Vatsal ke. Lag raha tha alien dekh liya ho!"

("It's just... I saw your expressions at Vatsal. It looked like you'd seen an alien!")

Vatsal finally blinked and looked up, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

"Mere expressions? Normal hi toh hain!" he said, trying to sound cool but clearly caught off guard.

("My expressions? They were totally normal!")

Manya just sighed and facepalmed. She knew her brother way too well.

"Aaye bolo! Banda ab khush bhi na ho sundar khudi ko dekh ke?" she teased, laughing with Palak.

("Oh please! The guy can't even be happy seeing a pretty girl?")

Vatsal scratched the back of his neck.
"Main... main chalta hoon..." he began awkwardly.

("I... I should get going...")

But Manya stopped him instantly, her voice full of playful mischief.
"Rukko! Anu ko chhod do Gurudwara aur Mandir. Vele hi ho, waise bhi."

("Wait! Drop Anu at the Gurdwara and the temple. You're free anyway.")

She winked at her brother, enjoying every bit of his discomfort.

Anushka quickly cut in, not wanting to drag him into anything. "Main chali jaungi!"

("I'll go by myself!")

Her tone was soft but clear. She didn't want to take his help - maybe because of what had happened last night... or maybe because it was easier to keep things simple.

Vatsal looked at her, a little unsure now, caught between wanting to go and knowing she didn't want him to.

Before Anushka could say anything else, Manya gently nudged her from behind.
"Jaa na... itna sharmana kyun?" she whispered with a smirk, grabbing the door knob.

("Just go... why are you acting so shy?")

And before Anushka could turn around or protest, click - the door shut behind her.

Vatsal, still standing a step away, instinctively reached out and caught her arm to steady her.
Just like Manya knew he would.
There was a tiny pause. Their eyes met just for a second.
Not dramatic. Not romantic. Just quiet. Awkward. Soft.

From the balcony above, Manya leaned over the railing and shouted,

"Abhi tak YAHI ho?! Jaao!!!"

("Still standing there?! Go!!!")

Anushka sighed and looked away,

Vatsal cleared his throat, dropping his hand and pointing toward his bike.
"Chalein?" he said, trying to act normal, though his voice cracked a little.

("Shall we?")

Anushka just nodded, walking ahead while saying under her breath,
"Kya kar rhe ho bhagwan..."

("What are you doing to me, God...")

Anushka sat behind him on the bike, holding onto the small metal handle behind the seat - keeping just enough space between them.

Vatsal kicked the bike to life, the soft rumble filling the silence.
They didn't talk much.

The only words exchanged were hers - gentle, short.

"Seedha jao... fir left aayega... uske baad ek aur right."

("Go straight... then take a left... after that, another right.")
She guided him calmly through the turns, telling him the way to the Gurdwara she always visited on this day.

It was a twenty-minute ride, but it felt longer. Not in a bad way.
Just... quiet.

Neither of them forced a conversation.

Anushka looked out at the passing roads, the trees swaying gently in the warm breeze. The city felt half-awake, lazy under the afternoon sun honks softer, roads calmer, like even the traffic was taking a break.
Her eyes followed the rows of people, shops, and passing temples, but her mind was far away filled with thoughts she didn't want to untangle just yet.
Behind the handlebar, Vatsal kept his eyes on the road, his grip steady.

But every few seconds, without even realising it, he glanced at the rearview mirror.
Just to check on her.
She wasn't crying. She wasn't even sad on the outside. Just... quiet.

And that silence - it wasn't heavy. It wasn't awkward.
It was just unspoken.
Like both of them knew they had things to say, but neither was ready to break the moment.
They reached the Gurdwara.
Vatsal parked the bike near the gate. The sound of shabads floated out gently through the open doors, peaceful and grounding.

Anushka got down slowly, adjusting her kurti and dupatta. She turned to him, offered a small polite smile the kind people give when they're trying to hold everything together.

"Thank you... tum jaa sakte ho," she said quietly. "Yahan se mandir paas hi hai, main chali jaungi." She was about to step away when his voice stopped her.

("Thank you... you can go,"
"The temple is nearby from here. I'll walk.")

"Kya hua hai?" Vatsal asked not forcefully, not dramatically. Just simply.

("What's wrong?")

As if he couldn't hold it in anymore.

Anushka blinked, surprised.
"Mujhe?" she asked, not expecting the question.

("Me?")

She looked at him - confused, caught off guard, and slightly unsure why he was even asking.
Why is he even talking?
Does he expect me to be normal? Smile like nothing's wrong? Probably.She didn't answer right away.

And the silence that followed wasn't the calm one they'd shared on the bike - this one was heavier.

The kind that lingers in the chest.
"Mujhe kya hoga?" she said finally, her voice a little firmer than she meant it to be. "Main sahi hoon."

("What could be wrong with me?"
"I'm fine.")

Vatsal looked at her - really looked.

His eyes searched her face for something, some hint, some crack in the surface.
But she was good at hiding. Too good.

He gave up trying to read her and just said, "Main yahin hoon. Tum jake aao."

("I'm right here. You go ahead.")

Anushka crossed her arms, her tone turning colder, stubborn. "Main chali jaungi."

("I'll go on my own.")

She wanted him to go. Needed him to go.
Maybe because if he stayed, she'd fall apart.
But Vatsal just sat back on the bike seat, calm as ever, and declared, "Main nahi jaunga."

("I'm not leaving.")

Then, like it was the most casual thing in the world, he plugged in his earpods and started scrolling on his phone like he had all the time in the world.

Anushka stared at him for a second- fully annoyed but said nothing.She turned away and slowly walked toward the Gurdwara steps.

Her dupatta slipped a little as the wind picked up, and she fixed it over her head gently, covering her hair the way Dadaji had taught her as a child.

One step after another, she climbed the stairs.
The soft sound of the shabad grew clearer. The peaceful hum of prayers, people whispering, the clink of kadaas... everything felt still inside.

She took off her jhuttis near the entrance and stepped onto the cool marble floor, her palms joining in front of her chest automatically.

She didn't rush.

Her eyes moved slowly over the holy space, the calm golden cloth over the Guru Granth Sahib, the soft movements of people bowing, sitting, praying.

She walked toward the front, knelt down, and bowed her head.
"Dadaji..."

("Grandfather...")

She said his name silently in her heart, feeling a lump rise in her throat.
No tears came. Just the ache.
The same ache that came every year.

But this time, it felt heavier not just grief, but loneliness.
She missed him more today. Maybe because lately, everything felt too much. Too noisy. Too fake.

And he had always been the one person who saw her quietly - without asking questions, without expecting her to be "fine."

She sat down on the floor, legs folded, eyes closed.
For a moment, she let herself breathe.

The stillness around her gave space for the memories to rise - not in a loud way, but softly... like old photographs slowly turning in the back of her mind.

She thought about all the golden memories she had with him.
The Sundays spent in the garden, his soft voice explaining why ants always walked in a line.
The way he would clap the loudest when she won even the tiniest school competition.

How he always slipped a 10-rupee note into her hand after a test - win or fail, just saying, "Tension nahi lene ka, meri sherni hai tu."

("Don't stress about it. You're my lioness.")

And even in his last few days, when his voice had turned weak, and his hands had started shaking -
She would gently push his wheelchair down the corridor, listening to stories he had told her a hundred times before...
"Main aur teri dadi Shimla mein mile the pehli baar... Tab gaadiyaan itni nahi hoti thi, cycle se sab hota tha..."

("I met your grandma for the first time in Shimla... Back then, there weren't so many cars. Everything was done on bicycles...")

And she would smile, nodding. Not because she hadn't heard it before, but because with him, even old stories felt warm. Safe.
She missed that safety.

Missed having someone who celebrated her little moments like they were everything.
Someone who never asked her to "move on" or "be mature" -just let her feel.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinked away the slight blur in them, and looked up at the calmness inside the Gurdwara.
Her hands folded again, this time with more stillness in her heart.

On the other side, Vatsal stood outside the Gurdwara, pacing near his bike, on call with Adhvik.

"Yaar Adhvik... kuch sahi nahi lag raha," he said quietly, frustration clear in his voice. "Bohot Ajeeb behave kar rahi hai... kya karu? Meri himmat hi nahi ho rahi usko jaake batane ki. Bilkul bhi nahi."

("Yaar Adhvik... something just doesn't feel right,"
"She's been acting so strange... What should I do? I just don't have the courage to go tell her. Not at all.")

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes fixed on the Gurdwara entrance.

On the other end, Adhvik sighed. Loudly.
"Arre yaar Vatsal! Bada tu hai ya main?" he groaned.

("Bro, who's the older one here - you or me?")

"Samajh main raha hoon, behave tu bacchon jaise kar raha hai." Vatsal stayed quiet. He had no defense.

( "I get it, but you're the one acting like a kid.")

"Jaake bol de!" Adhvik continued.

("Just go tell her!")

"Baad ki baad mein dekhenge. Tu jaa. Bol. Bata de usko."

("We'll deal with whatever comes after. You go. Say it. Just tell her.")

He cut the call. Just like that.
Vatsal stared at his phone for a second, annoyed.
"Ruk... beta. Tera time aane de. Tab dekhna."

("Wait, bro... your time will come. Just wait and see.")

He muttered under his breath, shoving the phone in his pocket.
Pulling out his earpods, he sighed and finally walked toward the Gurdwara entrance.

No plan. No big speech.

Just one feeling pulling him in he didn't want her to walk out without knowing what she meant to him.

As Vatsal stepped inside the Gurdwara, the calm, soft atmosphere greeted him instantly - the peace, the prayers, the quiet whispers of faith.

His eyes scanned the space.
And there she was.

Anushka had just stood up from the prayer hall, adjusting her dupatta again, her expression still calm... but distant. She was walking slowly toward the langar area.

Without wasting time, Vatsal joined his hands and bowed his head, taking blessings - whispering something only he and God would know - then quickly got up and followed her.

Anushka stood near the washing area, dupatta tied to one side, and her hair clipped back neatly.

She washed her hands quietly, then walked over to the langar hall where rows of people sat on rugs -men, women, children all enjoying the humble, peaceful meal while the soft sound of shabads echoed through the hall.

The clink of steel plates, soft chatter, and laughter filled the air as sevadaars moved between the lines serving food with quiet smiles.

Anushka picked up a bucket of dal, and with practiced ease, began to serve each person, bending slightly, making sure not to spill, offering a warm smile to every elder and child.

Vatsal stood at a distance, just watching her.

For a second, he forgot why he came.
He just... looked.

There was something about her here - doing something so simple, so selfless that made her look more like her than ever.
He didn't want to just stand anymore.

So he walked over to the line of volunteers, washed his hands, tied a handkerchief over his head like the others, and picked up a basket of rotis.

Without saying a word, he joined the row and started serving beside her.

She didn't look at him at first, but she knew he was there.
As they served food, Anushka and Vatsal didn't speak - but their eyes met a few times.
Short glances.

Not awkward.
Not intense.
Just... noticing each other.
Like two people sharing the same silence for different reasons.

Once they were done serving, Anushka stood to the side, taking a moment.

Her eyes moved slowly over the room - the rows of people sitting peacefully, kids giggling between bites, elders quietly eating, some offering soft blessings to the sevadaars.
It made her heart ache a little.
She always used to do this with her grandfather.

This same hall.
Same steel buckets.
Same feeling of giving without needing anything back.
Her eyes blurred slightly, but before she could slip deeper into her thoughts, something caught her attention.

An old uncle sat on his wheelchair at the far end, eating quietly but his space had no glass of water.

Without thinking twice, Anushka walked over, picked up a clean glass from the side counter, filled it, and carried it to him.

She bent slightly and offered it with a warm smile, and he smiled back with gentle eyes full of blessings.

Vatsal stood a few steps away, watching everything.
No thoughts - just admiration.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.

Once the langar was over, and everything settled again, the two of them walked out together.

Side by side. Still no words.

As they stepped outside the Gurdwara, the afternoon light touched the marble gently, and the soft wind brushed past them.
They walked side by side, quiet for a few moments, until Anushka finally broke the silence.

"Tum andar kyun aaye?" she asked, her voice calm but curious.

("Why did you come inside?")

Vatsal looked ahead, then shrugged casually. "Bahar garmii thi... toh maine bola, main bhi darshan kar leta hoon Guru Sahib ke."

("It was hot outside... so I thought I'd come in too, offer my prayers to Guru Sahib.")

Anushka raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing. "Hmm... yahi bagal mein mandir hai. Shiv ji ka. Walking distance pe." It wasn't exactly an invitation, but something in her tone made it feel like one.

("Hmm... There's a temple right next door. For Lord Shiva. It's walking distance.")

"Achha..." Vatsal nodded, then glanced at her again. "Tum yahan bahut samay se aa rahi ho?"

("Okey..."
"Have you been coming here for a long time?")

Anushka's lips curled into a small, soft smile. "Bachpan se."

("Since I was a kid.")

"Oh..." he said simply.
And again, silence walked with them.

But this time, it felt like something was building - like rain just before it falls.

Then Vatsal tried again.
"Toh aaj kuch special hai? Kyunki aaj toh... kuch hai bhi nahi, toh achanak Gurdwara, mandir?" He kept his tone light, but his eyes watched her carefully.

("So is there something special today? Because today... well, there isn't any occasion, so suddenly Gurdwara, temple?")

Anushka slowed down a little. Her hand tightened around the edge of her dupatta. She didn't answer right away.

Maybe because she was deciding how much to say.

"Dadaji ki death anniversary hai aaj," Anushka said, her voice steady, her expression calm - almost too calm.

("It's my grandfather's death anniversary today,")

"Toh iss din main hamesha aati hoon."

("So I always come on this day.")

She didn't look at him when she said it. Just kept walking, eyes ahead, like she had practiced saying it enough times to keep her face from showing anything.
Vatsal turned to look at her, surprised. This was... new.

In all the time they had known each other, joked around, studied, fought over the dumbest things - they had never really talked about family.

Not like this.
Not the real parts.
And now, suddenly, she had dropped this quiet truth in the middle of their walk - like handing someone a delicate glass and just hoping they won't drop it.

He didn't know what to say for a second.
So he did the only thing that felt right.

"Tumhare Dadaji... woh kaafi close the tumse, right?" he asked softly.

("Your grandfather... you were really close to him, weren't you?")

Anushka just nodded, not trusting her voice.
A small, almost invisible nod.
Vatsal didn't push.

After five quiet minutes of walking, they finally reached the temple.

The sun had mellowed into a warm gold, painting the sky in strokes of saffron and rose as it sank behind the tall temple walls. The wind carried the faint scent of marigold and incense, blending with the soft ringing of temple bells. It was the kind of afternoon that held a weight of something sacred, something more than just a prayer-like the universe had momentarily slowed down to witness what was about to unfold.

Anushka and Vatsal walked up the steps together.

As they entered, both of them reached out and rang the bell gently - the sound echoed sweetly through the silence, like a calm wave of energy.

They stepped inside and folded their hands in prayer.

The murti of Shiv ji stood tall in the center - calm, powerful, yet peaceful. Beside him, Parvati Maa, her expression kind and strong.

On one side stood Ganesh ji, and on the other, Laxmi Maa, completing the divine circle.
The soft scent of incense filled the space.

A diya flickered gently, its light dancing on the stone floor.
Anushka closed her eyes, her palms joined, lips moving silently in prayer.

Vatsal stood beside her, still and respectful.

He didn't know what she was praying for. He didn't ask. Though he wanted to.
But in that moment, standing there beside her, he murmured a small prayer under his breath, closing his eyes. "Bhagwan agar isse paane ke liye tapasya karni hai.. Toh mai taiyaar hoon. Aapne Shiv ji ki Parvati ko diya, unki tapasya se. Mujhe bhi agar uska ek tukda chaiye, toh tapasya karni padegi. Aur mai karunga. Har roz. Bas aaj mujhe himmat dijiye, kehne ki."

("God, if I have to do penance to have her in my life... I'm ready.
You gave Shiva his Parvati because of her devotion.
If I, too, need to earn even a piece of her, I'll do it. Every day.
Just today, give me the courage... to tell her.")

As Vatsal opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was her.
Anushka was already done with her prayer and was quietly looking at him not rushing him, just waiting.

She looked different today. Softer. Quieter.

Her face calm, not guarded. Clad in a simple kurta, her dupatta loosely draped over her head, strands of hair slipping out with the breeze.

They stepped out of the temple and into the veranda, where the scent of wet earth was already in the air.

A huge banyan tree stood to the side - old, sacred, full of red and yellow threads tied by hundreds of hands over the years.

People stood around the tree, whispering wishes as they tied mauli, hoping the gods would listen.

Without a word, they both moved toward the tree. They picked up two red threads.

One by one, they tied their wishes - quiet prayers that lived deep in their hearts but never made it to their lips.
Vatsal finished first and stepped back, brushing his palms together softly.

He looked at her.

Anushka stood in front of the tree, gently tying her thread.
The wind blew stronger now.. fast, heavy - the sky above them turning darker, as if the clouds were holding back tears.
And then it happened -
Her dupatta, light and loose, blew back with the gust of wind... and the end of it got stuck in Vatsal's watch.

She turned quickly, surprised and their eyes met.

A heartbeat passed. Maybe two.
Neither moved for a second.
The wind, the tree, the silence everything paused.

Then slowly, Vatsal looked down, gently pulled the corner of her dupatta free from his watch. His fingers careful, almost afraid to touch more than needed.
Anushka quietly took the edge of her dupatta back, fixing it without a word.
But something in her eyes had changed.
And maybe... something in his too.

The wind around them grew louder, the trees swaying like they had something to say too. Dark clouds moved across the sky, slow and heavy ready to burst.

Just like him.

Vatsal stood still, hands in his pockets, but his heart was restless.
His patience, the silence, the waiting - it had all stretched too long.

And now... it was wearing thin.
Even the sky felt like it was telling him to just say it.
Speak the truth.
Tell her.

The feeling he had been hiding in the corners of his heart -
too scared to accept it,
too scared to ruin the quiet thing they had,
too scared of what she might say.
But also, too real to ignore.
Because she changed things for him.

Slowly, silently - but completely.
He had always been responsible.
Always the one who handled things, joked through stress, kept it light.
But serious?
Emotional?
Romantic?
Never.
He had laughed at love stories.
Mocked sappy quotes.
Thought romance was just a phase -
Something that faded, replaced by duties, parenting, habit.
How can someone love one person for a whole lifetime?
He never understood it.
Until her.

Because now, he did.
With her, it didn't feel like a phase.
Or a fairytale.
It felt like home.
Like if not her, then no one.
Not because she was perfect.
But because with her, he felt like he could be real.

Messy, confused, silent, or loud - all of it.
He looked at her again.
Anushka was still fixing her dupatta, unaware of the storm rising inside him.

And before he could overthink it again, before the clouds burst or his courage disappeared,
He took a step forward and said softly "Anushka..."

Vatsal took a breath shaky but determined.
And then, all of it poured out.
"I have to say this... warna dil phat jayega." He gave a broken laugh.

("I have to say this... or my heart will burst.")

"It all started with one dance performance..."

His words came faster, falling out like they'd been sitting on the edge of his chest for too long. "I never thought flirting could be so dangerous... or that one shared laugh could become this important." He looked at her, straight into her eyes.

"You used to avoid me like I was some kind of disease." He smiled softly at the memory. "And yeah... in school, I gaslighted that girl into believing you were my girlfriend. Just so she'd stop chasing me. But somewhere deep down, I think... on annual day itself, when I saw you in that saree... I had already fallen. Head over toes."

[with reference to 1st,2nd,3rd chapters]

He paused. His voice lowered.
"But the truth is... even after that, even now, I'm still falling.
Again and again. For the same person. Every time you talk, smile, fight, cry... it's just you. Every moment spent with you it's all stuck in my heart like bookmarks." His eyes softened, a kind of reverence filling them.

"I don't know what you feel about me. I really don't. And I'm not asking for an answer today. But I just wanted you to know... I'm yours. And you - you're mine. Forever." He exhaled, deeply.

"It's written in the stars. I feel it."
Anushka said nothing. She just stood there. Still. Silent. Expressionless.
And that silence? It suddenly felt loud.
So loud, it echoed inside him.
But still, he smiled. Even if it was a little broken. Because he wasn't done.

"You can take all the time you need," he said softly. "I'll wait. Just like Shiv ji waited for Parvati maa... with love, with patience, with full faith."
"Because my love for you... it's raw. It's real. It's not a phase or a crush. It's something I'm proud of- even if it stays one-sided for now, I'll make sure you fall in love with me." He looked at her eyes, that didn't had the shine he had always noticed in her.

She was still silent. Not moving. Not reacting.
And that stillness?
It created a void in his chest.
A tight, cold emptiness.
But even then...
He didn't take his words back.
He had finally said it.
And sometimes, saying the truth... was love in itself.

Anushka stood there, unmoving. Her dupatta still clung softly to her shoulders, her eyes locked onto his, but her face held no expression - as if her brain was still catching up to her heart.
Vatsal had poured his heart out. Every unsaid word. Every hidden feeling.

Every quiet moment he had saved inside himself was now standing between them in full light - raw, naked, real.

And now, the silence between them had changed. It wasn't peaceful anymore. It was loud.
Not because she was angry. Not because she didn't care. But because she has so many questions, which she thinks she has no right of asking.

Not today. Not right now.

Anushka's POV:

She stared at him. Still. Blank.
But inside, her chest was chaos.
Her ears could still hear his words.

They echoed like temple bells,
"I am your's" Fake
"You're mine. Forever."
"Like Shiv ji waited for Parvati maa... I'll wait too."

She wanted to speak - but nothing came out.

No sentence. No questions. No yesterday scene I wanted to ask him about.

Just... everything.
All the times he teased her. All the times he showed up without being asked. All the small, unnoticed moments when she knew he cared... but was too scared to believe it.

She remembered the annual day. The saree. The look in his eyes.
She thought it was her imagination.

She told herself it was just a joke.
He was always like this, right? A flirt. A charmer. Not serious.
But now... he was standing here.
Not laughing. Not joking. Just waiting.

And that scared her more than anything.
Because this wasn't just love. This was devotion.
This was him, standing in front of her with a heart so open... she didn't know if she was ready to hold it.

She had built walls around herself.
The kind that even love could knock on... but never walk through.

She had grown up knowing not everyone stays.
That even family can forget birthdays.
That sometimes, people don't come back - like her Dadaji.
That love, no matter how pure, comes with the risk of being lost. And yet...

Here he was. Ready to lose. Ready to wait. Ready to love her even in her silence.
She finally looked away. Her throat felt tight. Her chest heavy.
She turned around. Not to run. But because if she looked at him a second longer, she would break. And she didn't know if she was ready to break in front of him.

She took a step back. Then another.

Vatsal didn't stop her.

He just stood still, watching her go. Not chasing. Not calling out.
Because he had already said what needed to be said. And now... it was up to her.
Anushka walked down the temple steps slowly.
Each step felt heavier than the last.

She could still feel his eyes on her back.
Still hear his voice echoing inside her chest.

"You're mine. Forever."
"Like Shiv ji waited for Parvati maa... I'll wait too."
But her heart? It wasn't ready. Not today.

The sky grumbled low above her, and the first drop of rain kissed her shoulder. Her breath hitched. Because this moment, this day - it wasn't supposed to feel like this. It was supposed to be quiet. Soft. Full of memories of Dadaji. But now, her mind was a mess. Flashbacks from the night before flickered like a broken reel in her mind.

Her chest ached. Not because she didn't feel anything.
But because she felt too much. And she failed to understand why? And she didn't know what to do with it.

She looked up at the dark sky. A lone tear slipped down her cheek - no one could tell if it was from the rain or her eyes.

Vatsal too walked behind her slow not wanting to face her, It felt like a storm had passed through him. Not destroying - just clearing space.
His heart felt full and empty at the same time.

He didn't know if he ruined things. If she would ever say what he hoped to hear. But he knew one thing. He hadn't loved her in silence for nothing.
He had loved her with every bit of honesty a heart could offer.
And even in this silence...

He would wait. Just like he said.
With faith.
With love.
With the belief that some feelings...were too real to be forgotten.

As the rain began to fall harder, Vatsal quietly started the bike.
No words were exchanged. Just... silence.

Anushka walked toward him slowly. Her kurta already getting damp. The wind carried the smell of rain and wet earth, but her heart felt dry. She sat behind him. Carefully. Like the weight of everything between them might fall with the slightest touch. Still... nothing was said.

Vatsal didn't turn back. He just took off the denim jacket he was wearing and gently handed it back to her. Without speaking. Without looking.
Just a simple gesture. To protect her.

Anushka took it slowly as she didn't wanted to argue she was drained, her fingers brushing against his for a second too long. She draped it over her head, her shoulders. It smelled like him -a mix of rain, fabric softener, and something she couldn't name but always remembered.

And then, he started the bike. The engine hummed. They rode through the rain -two people, one storm, and the kind of silence that said a thousand things neither of them had the courage to speak yet.

In the kitchen,

Manya stood near the stove, one hand stirring milk in the pan and the other... scrolling Instagram.
Again.

She rolled her eyes the moment she saw his name pop up.
Adhvik. Another story. Again.
"Yeh banda rukta nahi hai kya? Vella" she muttered, clicking on it with pure judgment.

("Does this guy ever stop? Jobless.")

{ [A/N]: Humari tarah jobless Wattpad padhte rehte hain naalo ki tarah* hair flip personal attack 01}

It was a mirror selfie - of course.
Shirt slightly lifted, showing off his gym-hardened shoulders.
The caption?

"Strong shoulders only for you."
Manya made the most disgusted face on Earth.

"Ughhh! ONLY FOR WHO?!" she nearly shouted, covering her mouth dramatically.
"Pagal aadmi!"

("Crazy guy!")

She looked around the empty kitchen, then whispered loudly,
"Kiske liye daal raha hai bhai tu story?!!" She shut the phone as if it had insulted her and shoved it into her pocket. "Iski bhi girlfriend hai. Wah! Kya din aa gaye hain." She pouted and lifted the coffee tray with two cups, walking toward the room.

("Who are you even posting stories for, dude?!"
"He has a girlfriend too. Wow. Look at the times we're living in".)

Meanwhile, in Anushka's room...
Palak sat on the edge of the bed, feeling better now. Sometimes, just being around the right people was enough to calm the storm inside. As she glanced around the room, her eyes fell on the white box on the desk. The school bag had been carelessly thrown over it, but something about the box caught her attention.

She stood up, moved the bag aside, and carefully opened the lid.

Inside - Photos. Dozens of them.
Some folded love letters given by Manya and Palak, a dried flower, bracelets they had exchanged, and even parcel wrappers. All looking old, precious... loved.
Palak smiled. There was one of the three of them at Imagica, one from a football match day. Another with the full gang - Vatsal, Adhvik, Pranjal, Kriti, Arnav. And then her eyes landed on a few photos she'd never seen before - Anushka as a little girl.
In a Punjabi dress. Swinging with her grandfather. Her Dadaji. The man she had only heard stories about. A soft smile touched Palak's lips.

"Memories..." she whispered to herself.

She clicked pictures of a few old ones, saving them silently.
Birthday post material, obviously.

But then- she heard Manya's footsteps approaching.
Palak quickly, almost guiltily, closed the box and kept it back exactly the way it was.
She sat on the bed casually, picking up her phone as if nothing had happened.

Manya entered dramatically, "Yeh lein madam, coffee. Ek dum heartbreak ke liye perfect."

("Here you go, madam coffee. Absolutely perfect for a heartbreak.")

Palak chuckled, taking the cup from her. "Aaj kisne tera dil tod diya?"

("Who broke your heart today?")

Manya flipped her hair like she was in an ad, "Mera dil koi tod nahi sakta. Uske liye dil mein entry leni padti hai - permission hi nahi hai." She took a dramatic sip, then added, "Aur jab tak mere book boyfriends hain na... sab theek hai."

["No one can break my heart. To do that, you need entry - and there's no permission granted. And as long as I have my book boyfriends... everything's fine."]

Palak laughed again, the kind that came from the belly - a real one. With Manya around, everything just felt lighter. Even heartbreak and chaos had background music and popcorn.

Manya plopped next to her, already in full rant mode. "Waise main tere liye keh rahi thi! Sadma Aashiq bani hui hai subha se. Ek din mein kitni maturity hit kar gayi tujhe yaar... mujhe bhi bata yeh kaunsa planet alignment tha!"

["By the way, I was talking about you! Acting like a heartbroken lover since morning. And in just one day, so much maturity suddenly hit you - seriously, tell me which planet alignment caused this!"]

Palak just shook her head, sipping her coffee, letting Manya do what she did best -turn pain into punchlines.

Then Manya snatched Palak's phone, unlocking it faster than she could blink. "Dekh na bhai, yeh bhi... ADHVIK ki story dekh. Gym selfie... 'Strong shoulders only for you' likha hai! Matlab koi toh hai jiske liye yeh banda post daal raha hai! Wah!"

["Bro, look at this too... Check out ADHVIK's story. A gym selfie... and he's written 'Strong shoulders only for you'! I mean, there has to be someone he's posting this for! Wow!"]

She opened Instagram - but stopped. Brows furrowed.
"Hain? Tere phone pe toh uski story dikh hi nahi rahi."

["Huh? His story isn't even showing on your phone."]

Palak, still disinterested, raised one eyebrow, and then after using all her brain cells said "Tujhe dikhani hogi usne."

["He must've shown it to you."]

That hit Manya like a slow-motion slap from a K-drama. She paused. Stared at Palak for one whole minute.Then gave her the classic 'are you serious?' face. "I AM TALKING ABOUT ADHVIK PATEL." She said, hands in the air. "Why would he want to show me his gym story?!" Shrugged, and in perfect Punjabi sass said, "Menu ki?"

[""How does it matter to me?""]
Palak stared blankly. Then dramatically gasped, "You little-... Forget it!"]

Manya grinned, lifting her coffee like it was a toast. "Cheers to delulu problems and strong shoulders."

Both girls burst into laughter, and just like that -for a moment, everything felt okay.
As Vatsal and Anushka reached her home, the rain still drizzled softly. The bike came to a stop. Vatsal pressed the horn twice - not too loud, not too long.
Moments later, the balcony door opened and out came Palak and Manya, peeking down like two nosy aunties.

Before anyone could say a word, Vatsal's voice came out -low, rough, and slightly tired. "Tere ho gaya ho toh chal le... kyunki mai jaa raha hoon, fir lene nahi aaunga." He didn't even try to hide the exhaustion.

["If you're done, then let's go... because I'm leaving now, and I'm not coming back to get you."]

Not just from the rain -but from the day.
Upstairs, Manya turned to Palak and gave her a tight, dramatic hug.

"Aayi!" she shouted down like a soldier reporting for duty.

["Coming!"]

Anushka stood there beside the gate,quiet, still, jacket still clinging to her like his presence hadn't left yet. She didn't say anything, just waited -as if needing a moment before stepping back into her own world again.

Manya came running down, flipping her hair like she was entering a music video,and gave Anushka a look -half teasing, half curious. Anushka just gave her a soft smile,a silent thank you.

Manya didn't ask anything. She hopped on behind Vatsal and waved at Anushka as they pulled away, Vatsal not saying a word, his eyes hidden behind the rainwater on his lashes. As the bike disappeared down the street,

Anushka turned around entering her house as she closed the door behind, Palak stood raising eyebrows as she sensed something was wrong.
__
Anushka stepped out of the bathroom, towel on her head, dressed in an oversized hoodie and warm pajamas. She sneezed again. "Aachhoo!"

["Sneeze"]

Palak, sitting cross-legged on the bed with her coffee mug, sighed dramatically."That's the tenth time. Now either you tell me what the hell happened or I'm calling your mom and snitching about your wet stunt."

Anushka gave her a tired look, "Palak..."

"Don't 'Palak' me. Teri shakl bata rhi hai kuch hua hai, ab bol." palak said exhausted

["Don't 'Palak' me. Your face is clearly saying something's up - now speak."]

Anushka exhaled and sat beside her. Pulled the hoodie sleeves over her hands. And began.

Anushka poured everything out in soft words and pauses, her voice heavy in some places, blank in others. By the end of it,
Palak was fuming. "Kyaaa?" she blinked twice."He told you you're his forever today?? Like today-today? After pulling that stunt yesterday?"

["Whatt?"]

Anushka nodded slowly, sipping her ginger tea. "Hmm."

"This boy needs a user manual, I swear. Matlab ek taraf intense Shiv-Parvati type love and dusri taraf banda ria se chipak rha?" Palak said pissed by his behaviour.

["This boy seriously needs a user manual, I swear. I mean, on one side it's all intense Shiv-Parvati kind of love, and on the other, he's clinging to Ria?"]

Anushka gave a small, tired chuckle.

"Listen. I get it. The guy probably means what he says - but his timing and actions suck. Like, majorly. And you don't need to figure it out in one day." Palak reassured her

Anushka nodded "Your turn" she said expecting Palak to spill what's on her mind the whole day.
__
After dropping Manya home, Vatsal finally reached his house.
The rain had stopped, but his mind hadn't. It was still swirling.
As he parked his bike, he spotted someone sitting on the stairs outside his door. "Tu yaha kya kar raha hai?" he asked, confused.

["What are you doing here?"']

Adhvik, holding his phone like it had betrayed him, looked up, clearly irritated. "Tere bhai ke chakkar mein! Subah se massage kr raha hoon, na reply, na darwaza khola. Mar-var gaya kya?"

["Because of your brother! I've been messaging him since morning - no reply, didn't even open the door. Did he die or what?"]

Vatsal rolled his eyes and pulled out his keys.

They walked in, heading straight to Pranjal's room. And there he was -sitting peacefully at his study table, headphones on, solving math problems like the world wasn't on fire outside.
Adhvik's jaw dropped. He grabbed his hair in mock frustration. "Duniya jaaye bhaad mein, par bhai ko marks chahiye. Kya insaan hai yeh!"

("Let the world go to hell, but this guy just wants his marks. What a person!")

Vatsal snorted and pulled him out of the room. "Padhne de, disturb mat kar."

["Let me study, don't disturb me."]

Back in Vatsal's room, Adhvik flopped onto the bed like it owed him emotional compensation. "Pura din barbaad kar diya iske liye, aur yeh banda integration kar raha hai. Wah."

["Wasted the whole day for this, and this guy is doing integration. Wow."]

Vatsal didn't reply. He quietly opened his cupboard, took out a dry t-shirt and towel, and began changing.He threw the wet t-shirt in the laundry basket, ran a hand through his damp hair, and sat on the beanbag near the window. Eyes distant.