𝗧𝘂𝗺 𝗛𝗶 𝗧𝘂𝗺 – [𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞] - 𝐂𝐇 - 𝟐𝟕 ༊˚

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नमकीन सी बात है हर नई सी बात में

तेरी ख़ुशबू चल रही है जो मेरे साथ मेंहल्का, हल्का रंग बीते कल कागहरा-गहरा कल हो जाएगाआधा इश्क़, आधा है, आधा हो जाएगाक़दमों से मीलों का वादा हो जाएगाआधा इश्क़, आधा है, आधा हो जाएगाक़दमों से मीलों का वादा हो जाएगा

NOTE: 

Hey bubbles! I noticed that some of you were wondering why the previously covered parts were republished. So here’s the deal there was a little glitch on my end with Wattpad (sabr ka phal kya hota hai? Wattpad ka bug), and I had to shorten a few chapters, which led to republishing some earlier parts. I know a lot of you were super excited for new chapters, and seeing the old ones again might have been a bit disappointing. I’m really sorry if that upset you in any way totally wasn’t my intention, promise! I had already addressed this issue on Wattpad, but I realised many of you cuties don’t follow me there (which is okay!), so I wanted to clear things up here as well.

Now that everything’s sorted let’s not waste another second and dive right back into the story!…. initial part is republished but uske aage ka updated hai do check till end.

Don’t forget to hit the star ⭐ button to vote.

______________________________________

The sun dipped lazily behind the hills as a golden glow spilled across the trekking path. Aditi, Priya, and Shagun were seated on a rustic bench, giggling and clicking photos adjusting angles, fixing hair, stealing selfies under the dusky sky. Laughter echoed as they admired each other’s silly poses.

But what they didn’t notice were the eyes on them.

From a short distance away, Ansh had been quietly observing not them, but a group of guys who clearly were. He saw the leering glances, the smug expressions, and the way one of them pointed toward the bench while muttering something to his friend.

His jaw tightened.His body went still. That cold, sharp fury rose in him not loud or dramatic, but bone-deep and unrelenting. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

Ruhaan, sitting next to him, followed his line of sight and immediately caught on. His usual playful smile faded into something darker. He nudged Prateek sharply.

“Kya hua?” Prateek asked, still half-absorbed in his phone.

Ruhaan didn’t answer, just jerked his chin toward the group of guys.

Prateek’s eyes narrowed the second he spotted them especially one guy who was staring right at Priya, not even pretending to be subtle. Another was scanning Shagun head to toe.

And Aditi… he was shamelessly starring at her doing weird gestures She was mid-laugh, fixing Shagun’s scarf for the perfect photo, completely unaware.

That was enough. Without needing a plan, the trio stood up in sync as if something primal, protective had pulled them up together. Not a word spoken.

They walked straight to where the girls sat and positioned themselves like a wall. Right behind them.

Ansh stood slightly closer to Aditi, his eyes cold, his stance stiff like a silent warning. He didn’t even blink as he glared directly at the boys.

Ruhaan crossed his arms beside Shagun, giving them a look so vicious it could slice skin.

And Prateek? He didn’t speak. His gaze locked on the boy who had been gawking at Priya like she was a display. His fists clenched.

The guys faltered. Their smirks vanished as they finally noticed the shift in energy the wall of death stares, silent but loud enough to crush egos. One of them coughed awkwardly. Another pretended to check his phone. Within seconds, they were walking away, eyes on the ground, pretending nothing had happened their backs drenched in cold sweat.

The girls remained oblivious still laughing, adjusting camera angles, wondering why the boys were standing behind them like soldiers guarding a palace gate.

Just then, Vivaan bounded toward them from a short distance, waving a hand.

“Ohh bhaiya log… ye kya ‘great wall of trek’ banake khade ho? Photos ho rahi hain, chalo sab ke sab!” he teased, loud and clueless.

Ansh, Ruhaan, and Prateek immediately turned toward the girls, hoping to sneak away with no explanation. But it was too late. All three girls were already standing, hands on their hips, eyebrows raised in sync confused and suspicious.

“Aap sab aise kyun khade the?” Shagun asked, one eyebrow perfectly arched.

“Uhh… bas… bas aise hi… dhoop achhi aa rahi thi idhar,” Ansh said, forcing the fakest smile imaginable.

“Teeno ko ek hi jagah dhoop mili? Line mein?” Aditi deadpanned, her eyes squinting at him with mock suspicion.

“Haan matlab ab kya… dhoop khane ke liye bhi tax dena padega tujhe?” Prateek replied quickly, reaching out and grabbing Aditi’s hand protectively. His fingers wrapped around hers not tight, just enough to feel like a shield. “Chal yahan se, warna baad mein royegi kehke photo nahi aayi,” he added, nudging her away.

The girls, still puzzled, didn’t press further but Aditi did glance once over her shoulder. Just a quick second. And she saw it.

The way Ansh’s posture had shifted only once when those boys left. The stillness. The quietness. And that gentle exhale of relief that no one else noticed. She didn’t say anything. But she felt it.

Not just seen…Protected. Silently. Fiercely. Unconditionally.

Meanwhile, Ruhaan grinned as he casually started walking just behind Shagun, hands in pockets, deliberately brushing closer every now and then like a toddler demanding attention.

“Shagun… yaar main soch raha tha ki hum bhi ek photo le lete saath mein,” he said in the sweetest, butter-wouldn’t-melt tone, blinking at her like a puppy eyeing a biscuit.

Shagun didn’t even stop walking. “Sochte hi rehna phir,” she shot back with a scoff, not even looking at him but a tiny smirk tugged at her lips, which she quickly suppressed.

Ruhaan dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “noooo! You can’t do this to meee,” he whined like a five-year-old denied ice cream.

Just as Shagun turned slightly, ready to throw another sarcastic remark A voice cut through the cool mountain air like a sharp gust of wind.

“RUHAAN!!”

Both heads turned instinctively. There she was.

Tall, radiant, wrapped in a perfectly coordinated pastel co-ord set. Her open curls bounced as she jogged toward them, eyes sparkling, lips glossed, skin glowing under the soft trek sun. She looked like she’d walked off a fashion blog and accidentally stumbled onto a hiking trail.

Shagun blinked.

Ruhaan’s eyes widened in pure delight. “OH MY GOD….SHAKSHIIII!!” he yelled, arms already open.

Before Shagun could process what was happening, the girl was in his arms. Literally.
He caught her mid-run, twirled her once with a laugh that echoed down the rocky path, and didn’t put her down until she giggled breathlessly in his shoulder.

Shagun just… stood there. Still. Frozen.

Her jaw clenched so hard it felt like her teeth would crack. She adjusted her scarf like it was suddenly choking her. Her eyes blank, but burning.

She told herself she didn’t care. She didn’t need to care. And yet her heart thudded with a hollow ache, one that had no name but felt too loud in her chest.

“Kaisi ho tum, Shakshi?” Ruhaan grinned, finally putting her down and brushing a strand of hair from her face with far too much familiarity.

“Better now!” Shakshi smiled brightly. “I didn’t know you were on this trek too! Chalo, finally mil gaye.”

Ruhaan’s eyes flicked sideways for a brief second.He saw it.

The slight tilt of Shagun’s chin. The tightening of her arms across her stomach. The smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

She was jealous. She was absolutely, wonderfully, adorably jealous.

And instead of clearing it up, instead of doing the decent, sane thing Ruhaan leaned toward Shakshi, voice low. “Bas thodi der ke liye pretend karna ki we’re really close, okay?”

Shakshi raised an eyebrow but caught on quickly. A mischievous smile curved her lips.”Got it.”

And with a perfectly timed glance toward Shagun who was staring at the both of them like she was already mentally plotting the girl’s funeral they moved forward.

Ruhaan, still holding Shakshi’s hand a little too casually, stopped in front of Shagun.

“Meet Shagun… junior at my school,” he said with an impish smile.

Then looked at Shagun and said, deliberately slow, “And Shagun, meet Shakshi… my closest friend.”

Shagun forced a smile. The kind that didn’t even bother pretending to be genuine. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice just barely polite, shaking Shakshi’s extended hand with fingers that were practically stiff.

“Likewise,” Shakshi replied sweetly, knowingly, like she knew the fire burning in Shagun’s stomach right now.

Ruhaan clapped his hands cheerfully. “Chalo Shakshi, baakiyo se bhi milvata hoon tumhe,” he said, and without waiting for Shagun’s reaction, he gently tugged Shakshi’s hand and walked ahead leaving Shagun behind.

She stood there. Watching him go. Watching his shoulders shake with laughter. Watching how Shakshi looped her arm through his. Watching how everyone else found it adorable.

But she didn’t.She hated it.

A lump rose in her throat and refused to leave. The ache in her chest deepened,thick and unbearable. The path ahead blurred for a second, not from tears, but from the sting of something she wasn’t ready to name.

Why did it hurt? Why did it bother her so much? She took a deep breath, shook her head, and muttered under her breath, “Dumb. This is so dumb.”

But that didn’t stop her from stealing another glance at them. and flinching when Shakshi giggled a little too loudly at something Ruhaan whispered in her ear.

Everyone was returning from the trek, bursting with energy and noisy chatter well, everyone except Vivaan, who was being dragged along sulkily by Aman like a grumpy little potato. Aman, playing full-time babysitter once again, didn’t even seem to mind this time because for once, he was too busy walking beside Samaira, engaged in what looked suspiciously like a pleasant conversation (yes, pleasant for them).

On the other end of the group, Ruhaan was busy showing off his most dazzling fake-laughs to Shakshi, completely ignoring Shagun, who was clearly not amused and eyeing him like she might push him off the next cliff they crossed. Ansh, being his usual composed self, was leading the group ahead like a soldier on a mission. Prateek, however, was clearly not focused on the trail he kept sneaking glances at Aditi, who in turn was whispering and giggling with Priya.

“Waise sach sach bata na…kal raat ko kya baatein ho rahi thi tum dono ke beech?” Aditi nudged Priya with a mischievous grin.

Priya flushed instantly. “Nothing much… bas aise hi… normal talks,” she mumbled, eyes darting away.

Aditi raised a teasing eyebrow. “Hmm… hmm… ‘normal talks’ ke liye garden mein raat ko  milne jaate hain ab log?”

“Aditi, stop it!” Priya protested, gently pushing Aditi sideways.

But Aditi was in full mischief mode now. She gave Prateek a subtle nod the plan was a go. And before Priya could react, Aditi pushed her just a bit harder this time. Priya stumbled forward, letting out a small gasp, but before she could hit the ground, a strong arm caught her firmly by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Prateek asked softly, his hand still gently supporting her.

Priya looked up at him, stunned for a second, then nodded slowly. “Yeah… I’m fine,” she whispered, regaining her balance. Her eyes flicked to Aditi, who was trying (and failing) to hide her smug laughter.

“Shaitaan ki bachhi…” Priya muttered under her breath, glaring at Aditi as she stormed ahead but her cheeks betrayed her with a slow-spreading blush. The way Prateek had caught her so steady, so gentle it made her heartbeat skip just a bit faster.

Meanwhile, Prateek quickly slipped a folded 100-rupee note into Aditi’s hand like a black-market deal.

“Waise dekh toh aise rahi thi jaise zinda jala degi mujhe… agli baar double payment chahiye. High risk stunt tha,” Aditi said proudly, tucking the note into her hoodie.

“Please. Tu ne aise dhakka diya jaise vo tere paise leke bhaag gayi ho,” Prateek scoffed.

“uska to pata nahi par tu mere paiso ke sath zaroor bhaag raha hai… stupid romantic creature,” Aditi shot back, sticking out her tongue before skipping ahead toward her gang, already planning her next scheme.

Prateek, left behind for a moment, watched Priya from afar smiling softly as he caught a glimpse of her turning back, stealing a quick look at him. That faint smile on her lips… it made all the scheming, bribing, and risk completely worth it.

The group stumbled into the hillside café like weary travellers returning from war with muddy shoes, chilled hands, and the echo of laughter still hanging in the air. The place was a warm cocoon against the crisp Rishikesh wind wooden interiors lit with soft fairy lights, mismatched cushions, and the comforting scent of cinnamon, cocoa, and chai curling through the air.

Vivaan collapsed first, spreading himself across the nearest cushioned bench like a dying prince. “kamar hi toot gayi bhaii…agli baar se mujhe mat lana ” he groaned, dramatically stretching his legs.

Ruhaan, in the middle of animated banter with Sakshi, was fanning himself with a menu like he had survived the worst heatwave of the century. Shagun, ever the queen of calm sarcasm, was already eyeing the menu with a raised brow. 

Aditi slipped into a corner seat beside Priya, still in her slightly damp hoodie, her cheeks tinged pink from the waterfall mist and mountain air. The exhaustion was sinking into her bones now, but so was a strange, quiet peace.

As the menus were passed around and orders tossed back and forth “fries”, “cheesy garlic bread”, “two masala chais”, “wait, no, three!” Aditi’s gaze drifted instinctively to the far end of the table.

Ansh.

He was composed as ever neatly seated, polite smile intact but his fingers tapped the table in a quiet rhythm. Not nervous, but… distracted. Slightly withdrawn, like someone carrying a conversation inside his head. Then he spoke. Calm. Careful. Barely audible over the chatter.

“Hazelnut chocolate cheesecake,” he said, eyes scanning the menu like it held something more than just desserts. Like it might fix something if he stared hard enough.

The waiter, a college boy with kind eyes and a pen tucked behind his ear gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sir. it’s Out of stock today.”

It was subtle, but Aditi noticed it. That brief pause. The split-second dip in Ansh’s expression. Most people wouldn’t have caught it he didn’t sigh, didn’t pout, didn’t argue. He just closed the menu softly and said, “Then… just a chocolate milkshake. That’s all.”

No food. No questions. Just silence. And Aditi, who had been watching from the edge of her eye, frowned slightly. Not visibly. Not enough for anyone else to catch. But she saw it. Because she always noticed more than she let on.

While the others launched into a chaotic debate over fries versus nachos and whether Ruhaan’s spice tolerance was medically unsafe, she quietly slipped her phone out under the table. A quick search led her to a nearby bakery still open for delivery. They had exactly what she was looking for. Hazelnut Chocolate Cheesecake.

She ordered it without hesitation. Paid for express delivery. Slid the phone back into her hoodie pocket with the barest curve of a smile at the edge of her lips.

Twenty minutes later, she caught sight of a delivery guy at the café entrance holding a brown paper bag, slightly misted from the cold. She murmured something to Shagun about needing fresh air and stepped out casually, hoodie pulled tight.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Aditi took the bag, thanked the delivery guy, and turned to spot a small boy loitering nearby holding a cricket bat almost twice his size, face full of curiosity and mischief.

“Ek kaam karoge? chocolate dungi” she asked gently, crouching to his level.

The boy tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “Tounsa taam?”

She pointed through the glass. “Woh bhaiya jo waha baithe hain… unko yeh de dena. Bas kehna yeh unke liye hai.”

The boy looked up like he’d just been given a top-secret mission. “Achha! theet hai aap mujhe tonti wali chocolate diloge na” he nodded solemnly.

Aditi laughed softly, scribbled something on a small piece of paper, and slipped it into the bag. then she bought another chocolate for the little boy. Then she turned and walked back in, slipping into her seat like she’d never left, grabbing a fry and flicking a straw wrapper toward Priya in mock annoyance.

A minute later, Ansh felt something brush his lap. He blinked, looked down and found a tiny folded chit. His brows furrowed slightly. He looked up, confused, only to see Aditi calmly chewing a fry, gaze deliberately elsewhere but then, with a faint flick of her eyes, she gestured: Open it.

He did. Inside, her loopy handwriting stared back at him. “Aapke liye bahar kuch aaya hai.”

For a moment, he just sat there, stunned. Then he looked back at her. She didn’t meet his eyes. Just dipped a fry in ketchup and kept talking to Priya, utterly nonchalant.So he stood up and walked out.

Outside, the cold hit his face gently, and before he could even ask what was happening, a small tug at his sleeve made him turn.

“You’re Ansh Bhaiya, right?” asked the boy.

Ansh blinked. “Yeah…?”

The boy grinned, holding the bag up with both hands like it was a royal offering. “Yeh aapte liye hai!”

Ansh hesitated, took the bag slowly. “Who gave this to you?”

The boy didn’t speak. He simply turned, lifted a small finger, and pointed through the glass.At her.Aditi. She was already back inside, nestled between Shagun and Priya, hoodie damp, cheeks flushed, sipping on a steaming cup of chai like she hadn’t just orchestrated the sweetest ambush of the century.

The boy added with sudden innocence, “Aapti girlfriend bahut sundal hai bhaiya.”

Ansh nearly dropped the bag. “Wh…what?! No, no! She’s not my… I mean, she’s not yet…no, I mean…she’s not…”

The kid squinted in confusion. “Toh banalo na, bhaiya. Warna main bana loon? Bolo?”

Ansh stared at him, scandalized. “Tu chhota hai uske liye! Bhaag yaha se! Kisi aur ko dhoondh… vo meri hai!”

The boy shrugged like a philosopher far beyond his years. “Pyaar tarne ti toi umar nahi hoti, bhaiya,” he said, shaking his head before running off, cricket bat bouncing behind him.

Ansh stood there, flustered, blushing, heart racing. He looked down at the bag and slowly opened it. Inside were two warm jars of hazelnut chocolate cheesecake, still soft from the oven. Between them, a folded note.

In her handwriting:

“Please don’t sulk… you really look way more cuter… it ruins your Head Boy personality :P”

Ansh stared at the note. And then… he smiled. The kind of smile that made his cheeks hurt. That he tried to hide by pressing a knuckle to his lips. That made his ears turn red and his chest feel way too full.

He looked back through the café window.

She wasn’t watching him. Not openly. She was laughing now probably at something Vivaan said her hand in the air as she flicked him off for making a dumb joke. She was back to being Aditi the firebrand, the quiet storm, the girl who never asked for anything.

But she noticed.She cared. Without asking. Without needing recognition. And for the first time in a long, long while… someone had done something just because.And it had been her. Just her. And that was enough to undo him completely

The café door chimed softly as Ansh stepped back inside.

In his hands was the same brown paper bag now slightly crinkled from the cold, the warmth of the jars within making it faintly humid to the touch. But it felt heavier than it looked not with weight, but with meaning. Like some sugar-laced reward for enduring a day that had frayed his calm in ways he hadn’t admitted. It felt like something earned.

He said nothing as he made his way back to the group. His face gave nothing away calm, composed, unreadable. But inside, his chest was a different story. A tight swirl of warmth and disbelief and something so tender, it almost hurt.

Across the cafe, Aditi didn’t look up.

She knew he had returned. She felt it, like a shift in the wind. Her every nerve was tuned to his presence. But her eyes stayed fixed on the melting ice in her orange juice, the condensation curling down the glass as she pretended to care deeply about Vivaan’s ridiculous tale of how a frog nearly jumped into his hoodie at the waterfall.

Her fingers, which had been idly folding and unfolding a napkin, had gone still. Her shoulders were just a little too stiff. She could feel it. The quiet thrum of tension in the air. The way the group was a second away from.

“OYE! Yeh cheesecake kaha se aaya?” Ruhaan’s voice exploded like a firecracker, already lunging across the table with the greedy gleam of a pirate spotting gold.

Vivaan leaned over next, sniffing theatrically. “Bro, that smells dangerously good. Bhaiya akele akele kaun khata hai, haan?”

From the other side, Prateek reached for a fork like he was entering a culinary duel. “Tu health freak hai na…tu kya hi karega pura? Ek bite to de hi sakta hai…”

Ansh sighed internally. Of course. This was how it always went. He wasn’t one to fuss. He gave in, shared, stayed quiet. Made himself smaller to make room for the others. That’s what being the “calm one” had always meant.

He was about to push the bag forward say it was fine, let them have some when a voice sliced clean across the table.

“enough everyone.” It wasn’t loud. But it didn’t have to be. The sharpness of it made everyone freeze. Even Prateek’s fork halted mid-air, hovering over the dessert like a suspended missile.

Aditi had stood just slightly out of her seat. Her hands still by her side, her spine straight, voice calm and cool. But her eyes sharp, narrowed, unblinking had turned icy.

“That’s his order,” she said, her tone steady and final. “You all have your food. Eat that.”

Vivaan blinked, confused. “Aditi, chill, yaar. Hum toh bas…”

“Tu pehle apne fries khatam kar,” she said, not even sparing him a glance.

Ruhaan, ever the joker, tried to break the tension. “Arey Aditi, sharing is-“

“This isn’t about sharing bhaiya,” she snapped, this time looking straight at him. “It’s about basic manners. He hasn’t eaten since morning. Just let him eat in peace.”

Even Priya and Shagun, who had been quietly sipping their chai, now exchanged looks both eyebrows raised. This wasn’t Aditi’s usual tone. It wasn’t even her usual mood.

Prateek, meanwhile, was still half-reaching. Grinning like a troublemaker. “Ek chhota sa piece toh banta-“

Smack. Aditi slapped the back of his hand, not hard, just enough to make him jump.

“Ow!” he yelped dramatically, clutching his hand like she’d fractured it. “Pata nahi mujhe aisi behen kyun mili,” he muttered, shrinking back into his seat like a sulking cartoon character. But he didn’t try again. No one did.

The cheesecake two small jars of it, still perfectly warm sat untouched on the table in front of Ansh. And Ansh… was still halfway into his seat, frozen. Eyebrows ever so slightly raised as he tried to piece together what had just happened. The group, usually so loud and relentless, had gone uncharacteristically still.

And Aditi? She sat back down like nothing had happened. Picked up her glass, took a sip of orange juice, and casually tossed a fry into her mouth back to normal. As if she hadn’t just defended a dessert like it was the Kohinoor.

Across from her, Ansh felt something unfamiliar bloom quietly inside his chest. He smiled. But not the one he wore at school the formal, polite one meant for teachers and assemblies and morning prefect rounds.

This was something else. Smaller. Softer. Private. Like a secret only he understood.

Across the table, Shagun, ever the observer, leaned in just a little, voice honeyed and full of mischief. “So…”

She drew the word out like melted chocolate. “Very protective today, aren’t we?”

Aditi didn’t flinch. “I just don’t like people stealing food. It’s rude.”

“Mmm,” Priya hummed, eyes twinkling. “You sure it’s just about the food?”

Without missing a beat, Aditi grabbed a napkin and flung it squarely at Priya’s face.

Priya ducked with a laugh, and the others started laughing again too tension diffusing in ripples. The storm had passed. Or at least, been tucked into a corner for later. But Aditi’s ears were red. Just a little. And she still hadn’t looked at Ansh.

But he? He hadn’t stopped watching her. Cheesecake still untouched before him, fork resting gently between his fingers. That smile quiet and crooked still played at the corners of his lips.

He hadn’t said thank you. And she hadn’t expected him to. Some things didn’t need words.

As the noise picked up again and the others resumed their usual chaos, Ansh finally picked up his fork. He sliced into one of the cheesecake jars gently, almost reverently like someone handling something fragile. Something special.

Across the table, Aditi, mid-conversation, flicked her gaze up for just a second. And found him watching. Not intensely. Not teasingly. just… softly. Like she was the reason the world had gone a little sweeter today.

The elders, seasoned in both age and wisdom, had smartly chosen a quieter table near the window. It gave them the comfort of hot coffee, peaceful conversation, and just enough distance from the “junior tornado squad” occupying the far end of the café. But they made sure they were still within leaping range in case someone and yes, it was always Vivaan accidentally set something ablaze again. That kid had a concerning relationship with chaos and flammable materials.

Meanwhile, the younger lot had colonized a corner table with the kind of enthusiasm one usually reserved for war councils or food fights. The surface was littered with half-eaten fries, spilled Coke, ketchup sachets in distress, and a wild mix of laughter and food-related accusations.

“Last piece mera hai!” Priya declared grandly, lifting the final slice of pizza like Rafiki presenting Simba atop Pride Rock.

Vivaan’s eyes widened. “In your dreams, chuhiya!” he growled, lunging across the table like a half-starved raccoon, only to be body-blocked by Shagun and Prateek simultaneously.

On the far end, Samaira had found her newest form of amusement bothering Aman once again, who had been trying to enjoy his mocktail in peace, seated at the outdoor cafe lounge area with golden twilight soaking into the sky.

Leaning in just a little too close, Samaira twirled invisible strands of his slightly ruffled hair with a wicked glint in her eyes. “So cute… tiny little ponytails. I’m telling you, a matching glittery hairband would complete the look.”

Aman didn’t flinch. He just stared at her with the expression of a man who regretted every life choice that had led him to this moment. “Iske liye hi toh pinky promise karvaya tha tumne,” he said flatly, reminding her of the emotional blackmail she had pulled earlier this day.

Samaira grinned, thoroughly unrepentant. “Admit it. You like the attention.”

Aman turned back to his drink, muttering something that sounded like “yeh ladki ek din pagal kar degi,” but the slight redness blooming at the tips of his ears betrayed him.

That didn’t go unnoticed by Samaira at least, not the redness. “Acha? Gussa ho kya? Oh wait…are you blushing?” she teased, leaning closer dramatically.

A little to the side, Aditi and Prateek were knee-deep in yet another one of their legendary sibling food wars.

“You had more fries!” Prateek accused, scandalized.

“I had four! You had, like, ten and a half!” Aditi shot back, emphasizing the ‘half’ with indignation.

“Half doesn’t count! The half was broken!”

“It was a full-size half, you cheater!”

They were now locked in a dramatic standoff, both glaring and counting the remaining fries like accountants during an audit. Shagun sat between them, failing miserably to mediate as she bit down laughter that threatened to spill out every second.

Amidst all this chaos sat Ansh. Silent. Calm. Observing. He didn’t join the yelling or the dramatic reach for the last slice. He didn’t insert himself in the arguments. He just sat there, quiet… but not absent. Because his eyes calm, unblinking, quietly curious were busy. Busy watching Aditi.

She hadn’t looked at him directly not since the cheesecake incident but her every reaction was playing out like a silent film across her face. The exaggerated eye-roll when Prateek made a dumb point. The soft groan when Vivaan knocked over a glass of Coke dangerously close to her phone. The way her nose scrunched every time someone laughed too loudly or said something ridiculous.

She was grumpy. Blunt. Unfiltered. And yet, absolutely magnetic.

At one point, when Aditi mock-smacked Prateek again for stealing her fries and then immediately stole his garlic bread in retaliation, Ansh chuckled softly under his breath.

To the way her voice rose in debates. To the way she chewed on her straw when thinking. To the way her eyes softened when Shagun laughed. To the chaos she brought, the drama she lived in, the fire that hadn’t gone out in her despite everything.

And that realization? It felt dangerous. Because he was someone who kept his heart close, protected, unreadable. But here, without even knowing it, a certain stormy-eyed girl with a loud mouth and a haunted past was becoming his calm. And weirdly… his chaos too. Maybe both.

The mellow strum of acoustic guitar hummed low in the background, blending with the scent of espresso and cinnamon pastries. The atmosphere was cozy, intimate… peaceful.

Except for one particular table where the laughter was just a tad too loud, the conversation a little too animated.

Ruhaan leaned forward, grinning in that annoyingly charming way he did, talking to Shakshi who was practically glittering under his attention. Her laugh rang out every few seconds, a high-pitched, overly sweet sound that made heads turn. Every so often, she touched his arm lightly or flipped her hair with a coy smile. And Ruhaan, for his part, wasn’t pulling away. He even ruffled her hair like some cliché college-romance hero.

At a quieter table across the cafe, near the glass wall overlooking the river, Shagun sat stiffly. A tall glass of orange juice sat between her hands, its straw twisted and bent within an inch of its life. She wasn’t sipping. She wasn’t blinking.

She wasn’t watching. She was studying.

Each time Ruhaan laughed, her jaw clenched. Every time Shakshi giggled and leaned in, her fingers tightened around the glass, knuckles turning white. The juice hadn’t wronged her but it was definitely paying the price.

A few feet away, Aditi spotted her from the counter. She was mid-sip of her cold coffee when her gaze landed on the scene and she nearly snorted. Oh, she knew that posture.

Grinning to herself, Aditi sauntered over and plopped onto the chair beside Shagun like she’d been invited.

“Tu theek h?” she asked casually, chin resting on her palm, eyes dancing toward the crime scene two tables away.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Shagun replied, voice dipped in artificial sweetness and acid.

Shagun didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just kept watching. Or rather observing.

Across the room, Ruhaan and Shakshi were now shoulder-to-shoulder, heads bent together over his phone. Shagun’s expression remained unreadable until Ruhaan looked up.

For the briefest moment, his eyes flicked toward her table. A beat. Then, his gaze darted away again back to his new favourite person.

Aditi raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re fine?”

Shagun slowly turned her head. “Don’t tempt me, Adu.”

But Aditi was already smirking. “Then why were you looking at bhaiya like he just introduced his new girlfriend to his ex on a trip?”

“I wasn’t looking. I was observing.” Shagun’s voice was clipped, businesslike. “It’s called data collection. Behavioural analysis. For academic purposes.”

Aditi choked back a laugh. “Right. to bata kya observe kara abhi tak tune?”

Shagun’s jaw ticked again. She muttered under her breath, “Saare ladke ek jaise hi hote hai… ladki dekhi nahi, dal badal lete hai. And Ruhaan’s just like the rest of them.”

The conviction in her voice cracked slightly near the end. And then Shakshi laughed again. Louder this time. And her hand swatted Ruhaan’s shoulder playfully.

Then came the final blow. He ruffled her hair. Aditi gasped. “He did not just-“

“He did,” Shagun said flatly. Silence fell between them for a moment.

And then Shagun stood. Not with drama. Not with flair. Just calm, spine-straight, eyes steady. Like a storm silently gathering at sea. She adjusted her scarf. Brushed non-existent crumbs off her jeans. Picked up her phone.

Aditi blinked. “Where are you going?”

No answer. Just a single, clipped sentence over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

And with that, Shagun walked off, her ponytail swaying behind her like the tail of a missile locked on target.

Aditi watched her go, amused and vaguely concerned. She sipped her coffee with a low whistle. “He’s so dead.”

Back at the loud table, Ruhaan finally looked up again. His eyes swept toward the corner only to find the table empty. The smile on his face wavered. He didn’t know it yet.

But karma? It was five-foot-four, wore winged eyeliner, and was walking straight toward his oblivious existence with a vengeance.

The sky above the hotel courtyard burned in warm hues orange, peach, blush pink like a watercolour painting set on fire. It was the kind of evening that usually made people pause, take a deep breath, and let peace settle into their bones.

But not tonight. Because beneath those pretty skies, a storm was brewing. And her name was Shagun. She stood near the edge of the courtyard, her fingers clenched tightly around a near-empty juice cup, knuckles pale, the straw bent from how hard she’d gripped it. Her eyes were fixed on one person.

Ruhaan. He wasn’t alone. Of course he wasn’t. Walking beside him was Shakshi smiling, glowing, laughing. Her voice floated through the air like a soft, sugary bell, light and melodic, the kind of laugh that could probably sell in a perfume commercial. It was effortless. Charming. Sickening.

And Ruhaan? He laughed too. That laugh she used to adore. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his dimples showing. He raised his eyebrows in that stupid signature way that used to make her burst into laughter even mid-rant.

But right now? It wasn’t charming. It was infuriating.

Somewhere behind her, Vivaan was probably saying something absurd again leeches, karma, or aliens. Who knew. Prateek stood beside him, half-listening with a samosa in his hand. Priya pointed at something near the snack counter, her voice lost in the air.

But Shagun didn’t hear any of it. All she saw was them. Ruhaan and Shakshi. Then, they stopped. Right by the hotel gate. Shakshi tilted her head slightly, looking up at him with a coy smile.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked sweetly, her voice dripping with syrup. Ruhaan nodded with a casual grin. “Of course.”

The air tightened around Shagun’s chest. But she still stood there silent, immobile. Watching. Waiting. Hoping, maybe, that it would stop there.

But it didn’t. Because then, Shakshi leaned in and hugged him. A short hug. Barely three seconds. But it was enough.

Enough to make Vivaan behind her gasp like a dramatic auntie in a daily soap. Prateek blinked in confusion, processing. Ansh’s jaw visibly tightened. Priya cursed under her breath, a soft but angry “Are you kidding me?”

And Aditi? Aditi didn’t look away. She stood quietly, her eyes flicking between Shagun and Ruhaan, and she saw it. Saw everything. Especially the shift. Because Shagun didn’t react like Shagun. No sarcastic comment. No eye-roll. No dramatic muttering.

Just stillness. Like a clock that had stopped ticking. Then came the final blow. A kiss. Not on the lips. Not dramatic. Not meant to be bold. Shakshi just kissed Ruhaan on his cheeks Just a soft, quick peck on Ruhaan’s cheek.

But it landed like a punch to the gut. People saw. Everyone did. No one knew what to say. And Ruhaan finally seemed to realise. Because just as Shakshi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, he glanced toward the courtyard and froze.

His gaze landed on Shagun. But it was too late. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She just turned. Turned on her heel and walked away. No screaming. No theatrics. Her scarf sliced through the air behind her like a flag in battle, her steps fast, deliberate rage and heartbreak woven together.

“Shagun, ruk to sahi!” Aditi’s voice rang out, urgent, concerned. She rushed forward, footsteps echoing. Priya hurried after her.

“Shagun!” priya called out next, confused and panicked. “Tu… tu kahan jaa rahi hai?”

But Shagun didn’t stop. Didn’t turn back. Didn’t let them see the war behind her eyes.She just kept walking. And the world watched, stunned and silent, as the girl who always had something to say… said absolutely nothing at all.

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That’s all for this chapter…! ✨
I hope you enjoyed it…

Don’t forget to vote and drop your thoughts in the comments…

See you in the next chapter!

Till then, be healthy, stay safe, keep smiling, and always keep reading.

With love,
Prachi 💌

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I’D – pixiee_wrts

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