𝗧𝘂𝗺 𝗛𝗶 𝗧𝘂𝗺 – [𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞] – 𝐂𝐇 – 𝟒𝟓 ༊˚
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𝗧𝘂𝗺 𝗛𝗶 𝗧𝘂𝗺 – [𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞] - 𝐂𝐇 - 𝟒𝟓 ༊˚

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जे इश्क है करेया
तर गए दरिया रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा के सारे जग नू भूल गए सब नू
रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा
कच्चियां सच्चियां मेरे दिल दी डोरियां
भूल के वी तोड़ी ना तोड़ी ना
मूंद के अखियां तेरे संग जो चलियां
कल्ले राह ते छोड़ी ना छोड़ी ना
जे इश्क है करेया
तर गए दरिया रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा
के सारे जग नू भूल गए सब नू
रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा

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VOTE: 320+

COMMENTS: 340+

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We have crossed 100K reads on wattpad yayayyy🥹🧿🎉😭…..Thankyou so much for loving this story this much🫶🥹….issi khushi main I’m updating the Chapter early, aage se nahi karungi bina vote ke😭🤧…

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The auditorium throbbed with evening excitement. The annual function was in full swing, half the performances had already dazzled the audience, and half were still waiting backstage with shaking hands and hopeful eyes.

For Ansh, however, there was no moment to breathe. He stood backstage with his clipboard, checking cues, adjusting mic volumes, and instructing volunteers. The responsibility of keeping the entire event running smoothly  rested on his shoulders and despite the sweat on his forehead and the constant rush, his posture stayed straight, every step determined.

Beside him, Ruhaan kept moving around carrying mics, speaking to teachers, handling props acting like Ansh’s unofficial assistant because he knew his best friend would never ask for help on his own.

As another group stepped onto the stage for their performance, Prateek and Priya slipped back into the backstage area, slightly breathless from their anchoring duties.

“Ye last minute additions to dimaag hi kha jayengi meri,” Priya groaned, staring at the list in her hand. Her hair was a little messy from running around, but she still looked adorable.

“Itni jaldi nahi… main bhi to hoon sath main,” he teased, leaning in, making her blush instantly.

But their little moment evaporated the second Ansh’s stern voice cut through the air. “Hogya?”

Priya shot up straight like she’d been caught doing something illegal, while Prateek rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Ye sunn… abhi yoga group main thoda problem hogya hai. Make their announcement after this sunshine dance group,” Ansh instructed, eyes sharp, mind still racing through the schedule.

“Achha ok fine,” Prateek nodded quickly.

“Achha bhaiya… vo special performance wali list dedo, whi start hogi in dono ke baad,” Priya requested politely.

“Yeah… wait,” Ansh said, already moving. He walked toward a side table overflowing with scattered papers, lights, and props. With practiced precision and the kind of efficiency only he had, he sifted through the sheets until he found the correct one.

“Birthday ke dinn to thoda chill hoja Ansh,” came Ruhaan’s voice from behind him. He entered carrying a bunch of mics dangling from both hands.

“Ye to kabhi chill ho hi nahi skta, likh ke lele,” Prateek added, shaking his head.

“Chill karne ka time nahi hai… ye pakdo,” Ansh muttered, handing the list to Prateek without looking up.

“Mujhe to taras aa raha hai bichare par… bichara birthday ke dinn bhi subha se majdoori kar raha hai… haye re school ka majdoor headboy,” Ruhaan said dramatically, hand on his heart.

“Shut up Ruhaan,” Ansh snapped without even glancing at him.

“Achha chal ye bata… gift main kya lega?” Ruhaan asked, throwing an arm around Ansh’s shoulder, poking his cheek like an annoying little brother.

“Yhi ki tu kaam pe focus kare aur mera dimaag thoda kam khaye,” Ansh replied dryly.

“Granted sirrr,” Ruhaan saluted with fake sincerity.

“Mere bass main hota to tujhe jija bna leta kab ka,” Prateek joked suddenly, smirking.

Ansh froze for half a second. It punched him right in the gut because the memory of last evening came flashing back. Something in his chest tightened painfully.

“Bakwaas mat kar. Kaam kar, ja chal,” Ansh muttered, shoving Prateek away lightly, trying to compose himself before the ache in his heart could surface on his face.

Prateek only grinned wider. “Main to ja rha hu. Tu arts room main jake apna gift lena mat bhoolna,” he sing-songed before walking off.

“Special performance jaroor dekhna bhaiya!” Priya added with a mysterious smile before hurrying after Prateek to get back on stage for the announcements.

He stood there, brows furrowed, replaying Prateek and Priya’s words again and again.

Mere liye?”  he wondered, the confusion clear on his face.

From behind him, a light teasing voice floated in,”bithday gift nahi chahiye bhaiya apko?”

Ansh turned. Shagun stood there, arms full of props, walking toward Ruhaan. There was a glint in her eyes he couldn’t decode.

“nhi mujhe birthday gifts nahi chahiye kisi se bhi…tum log achanak se aise kyu behave kkar rhe ho?” Ansh asked, genuinely confused, his voice unusually soft and unsure.

Shagun exchanged a quick glance with Ruhaan before replying, her tone slow, meaningful  “ham konsa apko koi gift de rahe hain….vo gift to usne diya hai apko….jisse apne manga tha.”

Her words hit him like a sudden rush of air. Ansh’s heartbeat stumbled…”Had she…?”

“kya matlb?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Ruhaan smirked, leaning close to Ansh’s ear, dropping his voice to a mischievous whisper, “yhii mere bhaii…teri ichha poori hone wali hai…jaldi chala ja isse pehle uska mood badal jaye.”

Ansh stared at him, stunned, a flicker of hope, terrifying and fragile rising in his chest.
But fear rose with it. “What if she’s doing this out of pity? What if she doesn’t mean it the way I do…?”

“par yaha kaun sambh-” he began anxiously, but Ruhaan cut him off instantly.

“main dekh raha hu na…ja jaldii.” He placed both hands on Ansh’s shoulders and physically pushed him toward the exit.

Ansh stumbled a little, still dazed, still unsure, the weight of hope and dread mixing painfully in his chest but his feet moved. Slowly, hesitantly, but they moved.

Towards the arts room. Towards something he had both desperately wanted and desperately feared.

When he finally reached the arts room corridor, he froze. Vivaan and Riva were standing at the door bickering, obviously.

“Ohh finally aap aa gaye,” Vivaan said dramatically the moment he spotted Ansh.

“tumhe kaise pta main ane wala hu?” Ansh asked, confusion deepening.

Vivaan smirked. Riva rolled her eyes and chimed in with a teasing tilt of her head, “hame sab pta hai…aap apna gift lene aye ho na?” Ansh swallowed hard and nodded slowly, the uncertainty almost painful.

Vivaan straightened his posture like a proud doorman. “ok andar jaiye,” he said smoothly, pulling the door open.

As Ansh stepped inside the arts room, the door clicked shut softly behind him, leaving him in a quiet that felt strangely thick. 

The room was dim except for the soft yellow light falling directly on the center table where a single designer paper bag sat neatly placed, almost waiting for him. It was girlish, pastel-colored, decorated with little pressed flowers and uneven strokes of paint… definitely handmade. Not a shop bag. Not something random.

Something she would make. His chest tightened.

“She’s not here…” he murmured under his breath, eyes scanning the empty room once again. The silence answered him back, and he swallowed. “But she kept this…”

With hesitant fingers, he picked up the bag carefully, almost reverent as if it were something fragile. Something precious. Something that could shatter him in a second.

He opened it slowly.Inside lay a wooden box. The same wooden box. The one he had given her with the bracelet inside. His heart dropped so sharply he felt it physically.

“No. No, no, no…”The thought hit him hard. “Did she… did she want to return it? Did she reject him? Aaj ke din…? Is this her way of saying we can’t…?”

His fingers trembled as he lifted the box. For a second he didn’t even want to open it as if keeping it shut would somehow delay the heartbreak.

But he forced himself to. The lid creaked softly, the bracelet lay exactly where he had placed it weeks ago. But this time… there was a folded note beside it.

His heartbeat stumbled. He stared at the note, fearing the words inside more than anything he’d ever feared in his life. Still, with a shaky breath, he unfolded it. But right now, his hands shook too much to even decipher it at first.

Then the words cleared:

“overthinking ka kota pura kar liya ho apne
to iss box ko chod ke zara uss diary ko bhi padh lijiye…
and yeah mere paas ayiyega to bracelet leker aayiyega”

Ansh froze. His mouth parted slightly. His brows furrowed slowly confusion, surprise, disbelief mixing all at once.

“…Diary?” he whispered.

He leaned back into the bag, and only now noticed something tucked at the bottom an old diary, its edges worn, the cover soft with age, papers peeking out like secrets waiting impatiently.

He lifted it out gently. It wasn’t just old. It was personal. The kind of book someone guards with their life. The kind of book someone doesn’t share unless… unless they trust you with pieces of their heart.

It was her diary. His breath hitched. He stared at the diary as if it held the universe. As if it held her.

His fingers brushed the faded cover, and for a moment he just stood there overwhelmed, terrified, hopeful, everything crashing inside him in one violent rush. His heartbeat was loud in the silence.

“She… gave me this?” he whispered, barely believing it. “Why…?”

His throat tightened painfully hope blooming and exploding all at once inside him.

He exhaled shakily, slowly opening the diary from the very first page, his fingers trembling in anticipation of whatever truth, whatever emotion she had hidden there… waiting for him to discover.

And then his breath hitched. It was Aditi.

A much younger Aditi maybe thirteen or fourteen smiling wide with her hair in a loose braid, cheeks rounder, eyes sparkling with a kind of pure innocence that made something melt inside him. Her grin was slightly crooked, her handwriting underneath even messier:

“hii… this is me… Aditi Mishra…”

The page was decorated in colored sketch pens. Little hearts. Stars. A badly drawn crown. Stickers that were half–peeled but still clinging.

Ansh’s lips parted into a slow, involuntary smile, something warm filling his chest.

“She’s so small here… so tiny…” he whispered, brushing his thumb lightly over the photo as if it were something fragile.

As he flipped the next page, a ridiculous amount of glitter dust sprinkled down.

And then he saw it:

“shaguuun ka cake kha liya ab ro rahi hai baith ke” with a doodle of a crying Shagun holding an empty plate. He snorted laughing under his breath.

“Of course she did…” he wispered.

Next page:

“mujhe ice–creams bohot pasand hai… par koi khilane hi nahi le jata… so sad.”
with a mini drawing of a devastated Aditi holding a melting cone.

Ansh shook his head, the smile stretching wider, but something tugging painfully deep beneath it.

As he turned more pages, he found tiny pressed flowers, shiny stickers, rough sketches, even an attempted self–portrait with embarrassingly chubby cheeks. And then,

A page titled:

“Things I want to do once in my life”

And the first one:

“Rapunzel ki tarah main bhi candles ko aasman main udaana chahti hoon.”

Underneath was a drawing of floating lanterns crooked, uneven, but filled with hope.

Ansh froze. His chest tightened, painfully, beautifully because this diary… It wasn’t just cute. It wasn’t just funny….It was her heart…Her memories…Her dreams….Her innocence.

His fingers brushed the edges of the pages as if touching something sacred. A strange ache spread across his ribs warm, overwhelming, almost suffocating.

He swallowed hard, blinking once, twice, pushing down the unexpected sting in his eyes.

The more Ansh read, the lighter his chest had begun to feel, warmth sneaking in between the pages But the moment he flipped to the next sheet…everything inside him stilled.

This page was different…No childish handwriting loops dancing around.

Just plain paper… with a neatly pasted photo of red glass bangles, their crimson glint looking painfully personal as if the memory behind them was sacred.

And then his eyes dropped to the text. With every line he read, something inside him slowly, steadily unravelled.

“I don’t know why but here in Barsana I felt… strange.”

Ansh’s heartbeat hitched. His throat tightened.

His eyes moved down the page.

“I saw a boy today… his hair were uff… lips were mmmm… voice was hayyeee… and eyes… they were ishhhhhhh.”

Ansh blinked. A sharp sting hit his chest jealousy, disbelief, confusion all twisting into one brutal punch.

She saw someone… like this? She wrote about him… like this?”His breath grew uneven as he kept reading, eyes racing, heart sinking.

“His brown amber eyes held so much warmth, so much devotion. I felt drowned in them…”

He read further each line carving deeper into him.

“I collided with him again in the temple. My ghungroo bracelet broke… but instead of being angry I just stared at him.”

Ansh’s jaw clenched involuntarily. A dull ache grew in his chest, heavy and slow like someone pressing down on his ribs.

She wrote it in her diary… preserved the memory all these years. His fingers tightened around the paper, knuckles turning white.

“Then he apologized for breaking my bracelet and gave me these bangles… hayeee kitta cute tha vo.”

She called someone else cute.” His vision blurred slightly not with tears, but with a sting of something he hated acknowledging. He swallowed hard, his throat dry as dust.

“Isiliye… she wanted me to read this?” he whispered, voice barely audible, trembling with a thousand unanswered questions. His heart squeezed painfully.

For the first time in years, Ansh the boy who was always calm, always sorted, always emotionless felt something raw and sharp claw up his chest.

Because the thought that Aditi’s heart had once fluttered for someone else someone unknown, someone unforgettable to her younger self felt like someone had quietly snatched the ground from beneath his feet.

And still… even through the ache… he kept reading.

Ansh’s breath hitched the moment he flipped the page and saw his own photograph staring back at him.

A much-younger him class 9th Ansh standing on a stage in his black competition T-shirt, hair a little messy, expression serious and focused. The background, the banner, everything was unmistakably from that one inter-school event he’d almost forgotten about.

But Aditi hadn’t. Above the picture, written in her neat, slightly curvy handwriting:

“I can’t believe my eyes today…
I’ve never thought of seeing you again and that too in my school…
but still apka naam nahi pta laga payi.”

Ansh blinked. His brain stalled. His fingers trembled around the diary. A strange heat rose to his face, his heart stuttering in a way he didn’t know was possible.

He turned the page with a breath so unsteady he almost ripped it.

Another photo of him.

This one was even more personal he was sitting on Prateek’s sofa, completely unaware someone had been watching him closely enough to take a picture. He remembered this day vaguely, Prateek had forced him over for some group project.

And above that, written like a confession finally finding air after years:

“Bhaiya ne kuch to kaam achha kiya…
and today I got to know your name… Ansh.”

The way she wrote his name… delicate… careful… like she had held it in her heart long before she ever said it aloud.

For a second, Ansh forgot to breathe.

His vision blurred not with tears, but with shock, with disbelief, with something so overwhelming he almost dropped the diary.

His chest tightened painfully, like something inside him was breaking open and expanding all at once. His heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears.

FLASHBACK

The living room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the television, its colors flickering across Aditi’s relaxed face as she lay sprawled on the sofa in her comfiest nightwear loose T-shirt, soft lowers, hair tied up in a messy bun that looked like it had been redone thrice already. 

She had come home to Delhi for just two days from Bhopal, so she had declared these days as her “zero-effort zone,” refusing to move unless absolutely necessary.

“Adu… beta kapde utaar le chat se,” Shweta’s voice carried from the kitchen, louder than the TV.

“Abhi jati hu ruko maa,” Aditi replied lazily, eyes stubbornly glued to the screen.

Shweta immediately marched out, hands on her waist, and switched the TV off with a sharp click.

“Abhi ja,” she ordered.

With a whining groan, Aditi dragged herself up, grabbed the laundry basket, and slumped her way to the terrace. As she began taking down the clothes still half asleep and muttering curses under her breath something caught her eye.

A familiar silhouette walking on the empty street below. She squinted. Her heart jolted.

“Am I dreaming?” she whispered. The streetlight illuminated his face for a moment. Ansh. Walking, Toward, Her house.

“Ye yaha kyu aa rhe haii?” she squeaked in panic, instantly snatching the remaining clothes and practically sprinting downstairs with the speed of someone who has tasted death.

But she was one second too late Ansh was already at the door, greeting her mother with that polite, soft smile that somehow made everything inside her explode.

“Hello aunty namaste… prateek hai?” Ansh asked courteously.

“Ha beta hai… tum baitho.” Shweta replied, smiling.

Shweta then turned toward the stairs. “Adu bhaiya ko bol de Ansh aya hai.”

Aditi stood frozen halfway, hidden behind the tall pile of clothes, looking like a disaster disguised as laundry. The moment Ansh looked in her direction, her soul ascended.

“Theek hai,” she mumbled, voice embarrassingly tiny.

“Kapde yhi rakh de,” Shweta suggested, but Aditi instantly refused.

“Nhi main upar hi rakh deti hu,” she blurted, clutching the clothes tighter and bolting upstairs before her mother could even blink. Pure, blazing embarrassment burned her ears.

“Ye mere ghar pe… is he bhaiya’s friend?” she wondered frantically, her heartbeat doing somersaults.

She steadied herself and entered Prateek’s room.

“Bhaiya… koi aya hai,” she announced, still slightly breathless.

“Haa aat hu… Ansh aya hoga,” Prateek replied, combing his hair in the mirror.

Aditi hesitated, then asked, “Ye kon hai?”

“Mera dost, handsome hai na?” he smirked proudly.

“Itna bhi kuch khaas nahi hai,” she said with a fake scoff, even though she was internally combusting at the sight of Ansh downstairs. But in front of Prateek, she had to maintain her I-don’t-care dignity at all costs.

“Ha ha… jalti hai tu mujse hatt abhi,” Prateek teased, shoving her aside.

Offended, Aditi pushed him back instinctively. In response, Prateek turned around and messed up her already messy hair even more, making her gasp in betrayal.

“Mammmyyyyy….. bhaiya ko dekh loo!” Aditi screamed from upstairs.

“Maine kuch nhi kiya usne start kiya tha,” Prateek defended himself as he walked out of the room.

Shweta glared. “Kuch seekh le Ansh se… kitne pyaar se rehta hai ye priya ke sath aur ik tum dono ko hi dangal ladna hota hai.”

“Ha to priya bhi to achhi hai iss dayan ki tarah to nahi hai,” Prateek muttered.

“Kutttee!” Aditi shrieked.

“Nikal le bhaii isse pehle mujhe maar daale ye,” Prateek whispered to Ansh and dragged him outside quickly, escaping before Aditi could charge down like a tornado.

At present, Ansh stared at the diary lying open in his hands almost suspiciously still, as if the pages themselves were holding their breath. The room around him was silent, but his heartbeat wasn’t. It drummed in his ears, wild and uneven, until suddenly… A laugh escaped him. Soft. Disbelieving. Almost disoriented.

“It was her…” he murmured, the words rolling out of his chest like a realization that had taken years too long to arrive.

His eyes remained glued to the spread of pages her handwriting, her stupidly dramatic descriptions, her little confessions she probably never intended him to read. It should’ve made him smile. It did. But under the smile was something sharp… aching.

“But why did she suddenly start stalking me?” he whispered, eyebrows drawing together.

He genuinely looked confused for a moment Aditi and stalking were two words he never thought would collide in the same sentence. He kept staring at her descriptions, flipping back and forth as if answers would pop out in neon lights.

And then…It clicked.

The bangles.

His breath hitched sharply in his throat. He froze, every muscle in his body tightening as the memory punched through the fog of years and slammed into him. He flipped backwards frantic, desperate through the pages she had written about her “Mr. Unknown.” The lines blurred for a second because his hands were actually trembling.

He stopped at the page with the red glass bangles.

His eyes dragged over the photo, the curves of the glass, the faint shine on them… and something inside him shifted violently. He lifted the diary closer, staring at the picture as if the memory was hidden between the pixels and he could dig it out if only he stared hard enough.

And then it hit him so ruthlessly that his breath left him for a second.

It was Holi in Barsana’s Shreeji Temple, the very heart of divine colours, where every corner of the narrow streets glowed with gulal and laughter. 

A younger Aditi was living her long-cherished dream of celebrating Holi in Barsana her white anarkali now transformed into a breathtaking canvas of red, pink, yellow and every other colour the festival had to offer. 

Her face was nearly unrecognisable under layers of orange and red gulal, yet her eyes sparkled with pure joy. She moved through the crowd like a child of the festival itself, completely lost in the chaos, the music, the devotion.

Feeling hungry, she went towards the handpump near the temple courtyard to wash her hands. As she wiped the colours off her palms, ready to run back to Samaira, her breath stilled.
Down the old stone stairs of Shreeji Temple, he appeared.

Ansh.

Back then, just a stranger yet someone impossibly unreal to her eyes. His white kurta carried faint traces of blue gulal, and a soft smudge of pink dusted his cheek. There was serenity in the way he walked, the kind of calmness that felt almost spiritual. His eyes not fully visible from afar, yet glowing with devotion made her heart stop in the middle of the crowd’s madness.

He came closer, unaware of the storm he’d caused within her.

“Excuse me, I need to use it,” he said, voice steady and polite, snapping her out of her frozen daze. She quickly stepped aside, watching him wash his hands and feet with a focus so gentle it made her chest ache. He left without looking back, and her world seemed to pause with every step he took away from her.

“Aaa bhi jaa Adu!” Samaira called, breaking the spell. Aditi ran to her, only to have Samaira wipe her face playfully.”Muh to dho leti thoda… poori bhoot bani padi hai… pehchaan main bhi nahi aa rhi hai.”

Aditi pouted. “Kya fayda didi… phir se ganda ho hi jayega.”

“Bas thodi der aur… haa uske baad wapas bhi jana hai.” Aditi nodded, but her heart silently whispered a prayer to see him once more.

After eating, she wandered back into the temple where devotees were dancing in a circle, singing Shreeji and Kanha ji’s hymns that echoed through the holy walls. The rhythmic claps, the spiritual music, the divine ambience swept through her, pulling her into their circle. She joined them, moving with devotion, spun gently by the hymn’s mesmerising pull.

But she didn’t notice he was there too. Recording the temple’s celebrations with a camera in hand, a soft smile touching his lips as he captured moments of devotion.

A sudden shove from behind pushed her off balance, and before she could hit the ground, she collided straight into him. His hand reached out instinctively one holding her shoulder, the other gripping her waist, steadying her as her palms pressed against his chest. For a moment, they stayed frozen, suspended in the divine chaos around them.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“No no I’m sorry… main hi beech main aa gya tha,” he replied gently.

As she tried to move back, her beloved ghungroo bracelet snagged on his kurta threads. A tug then the soft clinking heartbreak of beads scattering across the marble floor.

“Oh no… I’m so sorry,” Ansh said instantly.

“No no… it’s fine,” she managed. But he could see the loss in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry… it really meant something for you… you can keep these if they make up for your loss,” he said, hurriedly pulling out a pair of red glass bangles from his bag.

“No no it’s totally fine,” she protested, shaken between embarrassment and awe.

“Koi baat nahi tum ye rakh lo… mujhe achha lagega,” he said softly, placing the bangles in her hand before she could argue again.

Before she could say anything more, someone called Ansh from behind, pulling him away. She watched him disappear into the crowd once again this time with red bangles burning warm in her palm.

Now standing alone in the dimly lit arts room, the soft yellow light flickering against the dusty boards, Ansh stared at the photograph in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. His breath stilled, chest tightening with something sharp… unfamiliar… overwhelming.

Everything hit him at once.

His fingers trembled slightly as he remembered, the image of his younger self calm, clueless, walking around Shri Radha Rani Temple with a camera, while destiny was quietly tying threads around his entire existence.

“How… how did I not see it?” he whispered to the empty room.

His throat burned. His heartbeat drummed violently against his ribs. Of course he didn’t recognise her.

“Matlab… she had been liking me since then?” the words escaped his lips, barely a breath, barely sound. His eyes widened, disbelief stretching in them.

The more he flipped through the diary, the more the pages began to feel like soft blows landing one after another on his chest, strange, warm, overwhelming. 

Every line she had written, every tiny detail she had preserved like a secret prayer… it pulled something open inside him that he had never given himself permission to feel.

He turned to the next page and froze.

There were little doodles everywhere messy stars, broken hearts, wonky smiley faces but the center of the page was filled only with her words, scribbled in shy handwriting, talking about him. About his hair. His face. His voice. His eyes. Aditi had written them as if she were confessing her sins to the pages, as if she were letting herself feel something she had never allowed herself to say aloud.

His throat tightened. A soft laugh escaped him helpless, teary, disbelieving because how was he supposed to survive reading something like this?

Then he reached another page, messier than the rest, written like she was too embarrassed yet too overwhelmed not to jot it down.

“aapke baal bade soft lagte hai…kaash main inhe choo paati”

Ansh blinked hard. For a second, the words blurred. She wanted to touch his hair? Him?!

His fingers instinctively went to his own hair, as if trying to feel what she must have imagined. A stupid, breathless smile forced itself out of him and he immediately wiped his face with the back of his hand, annoyed at himself for smiling so much and yet unable to stop.

He turned the page.

“aapke cheeks bade gulu gulu hai”

He actually choked on air this time.

“G-gulu gulu…?” he muttered under his breath, a shocked laugh cracking out of him as he pressed his hand to his cheek. Heat rushed through him his ears turned red, his chest burned, and his eyes felt embarrassingly wet.

“pta nahi aap kabhi mujhe notice karoge bhi ya nahi because bhaiya says you think love is for fools… kash aap bhi meri tarah fool in love ban jao”

That line shattered him. His laugh faltered midway. His smile trembled. His eyes closed. A tear slipped out uninvited. He didn’t even realize it until it dropped onto the page, right beside her messy handwriting.

And for the first time in his life, as he stood there reading the words she had once written while secretly loving him… Ansh realized he had never been this seen. This wanted. This adored.

And smiled with tears in his eyes because somewhere between her stupid doodles, shy confessions, and hopelessly romantic thoughts…

He had fallen a little too deeper in love with her, without even meaning to.

Ansh felt his throat tighten as he turned the page and saw the next set of entries that felt heavier than all the previous fluttery confessions. The handwriting itself had changed, the earlier pages were filled with doodles, tiny stickers, bits of colours soaked into the margins. 

“mera school change hogya… pehle i wanted to come to delhi just to see you, see your rare smiles, click your pictures quietly…. but now i don’t wanna face you now… after all those things which i had gone through…”

Ansh’s fingers froze on the paper. A frown, sharp and instinctive, pulled at his forehead.

” She wanted to avoid me? Why… why would she want to avoid me? When she’d been waiting for years to see me again?” That confusion hit him hard until memory flashed across his mind like a sudden punch to the chest.

That incident. That horrific, ugly incident that had almost ruined her… the one that had crushed her confidence, shaken her soul, broken her sense of safety. For a second he stopped breathing. His chest caved painfully, and he subconsciously tightened his grip around the diary as if trying to hold her.

He blinked rapidly, jaw clenching as he forced himself to keep reading.

“unfortunately i’m comming to your school… i didn’t wanna go to school… but i don’t have any option. i hope kanha ji mera sath dein and mujhe aapse na milvaye.”

A sting bloomed behind Ansh’s eyes. His heart thudded painfully. She was coming closer to him but begging the universe to keep her hidden. The thought shattered something inside him; a guilt he didn’t even know he carried slowly crawled up his spine.

He flipped the page, even though his vision was slightly blurred.

“i met you today only…i thought i can be invisible but guess what, i can’t stop my heartbeat around you.”

A deep ache settled low in his stomach. He could almost see her tiny, nervous, freshly hurt, trying to stay unnoticed but failing every single time her heart raced for him. 

He swallowed hard. Guilt. Warmth. Shock. A strange, overwhelming tenderness everything hit him at once, crowding his chest until breathing felt difficult.

He lifted his hand to his face and covered half of it, trying to compose himself, failing miserably.

“How much did she go through alone? How many feelings did she bury? How much of herself did she hide… while I never even realised she was the same girl from Barsana?” His lips parted in a whisper only the silent art room could hear.

“I’m so sorry, Isha…”

He didn’t even remember when he started calling her that silently, in his head. But the name felt natural… like it belonged to her.

And he kept reading.

Ansh’s breath trembled as he flipped through the diary, each page a quiet confession, each word a tiny universe she had built around him. His fingers shook when he reached the page filled with short notes simple, silly, innocent lines… yet every one of them carrying a pulse of devotion that hit him straight in the chest.

Next to the photos, her handwriting, soft, curvy, almost trembling with shyness filled the margins…

“itna focus padhai main kaise ho sakta hai kisika”

“i hope mujhe bhi aap apne paas bitha ke padhate”

“how am i able to not fall for this cute smile of yours”

“i wish i could be the reason you get this type of blush”

“pta hai apko kitna mushkil hota hai apke samne blush na karna jab aap aise dekhte hai mujhe”

“i wish i could touch that little pout when you sleep”

Ansh’s chest tightened with every line. He felt something crack open inside him something warm, something unbearably tender. His lips trembled into a breathless smile even as tears pricked his eyes. 

“When did she clicked this much pictures of me…” he whispered, voice breaking in disbelief.

His eyes stung. Not with pain this time but with the overwhelming realization that someone had loved him this quietly, this deeply, this consistently… even when he had no idea.

A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it. He wiped it quickly, but another followed, softer this time… warmer. He wasn’t crying out of sadness, he was crying because he finally understood.

She had seen him. Every little habit. Every tiny expression. Every moment he thought nobody noticed. And she had written about them like they were poetry.

Ansh’s hands trembled as he turned the next page, his chest tightening with a mix of disbelief and overwhelming emotion. The words stared back at him, as if Aditi herself were whispering into his ears,

“I think you also feel something for me…am I right or is it just my delusion?”

A lump formed in his throat. He could feel the weight of her vulnerability, the quiet courage it had taken for her to confess even in writing. His fingers clutched the diary tighter as he read the next lines, each one piercing his heart in the most tender way.

“I don’t know how to thank you at that time but… you really made me forget my scars. How can you be like this?”

“I know you sang that song for me… but you don’t deserve my scars… you shine bright and I can’t dull your shine… never.”

The memories of his small gestures, the tiny things he had long forgotten, now hit him like a tidal wave. He whispered, almost breaking, “No, no, no… you never did that,” tears slipping down his cheeks, hot and relentless.

Ansh could barely breathe. Her words were wrapped in so much care, so much love, that his chest ached in a way he hadn’t felt before. And then, the confession simple, raw, and pure,

“I know aap thode phattu hai… but that’s what makes me fall for you more and more and now I can’t help it anymore… I love you.”

His heart pounded violently as he read those words, each syllable imprinting on his soul. It was surreal. How could he have been so blind all these years? Four years. She had loved him silently, completely, and he had never noticed. 

He flipped the final pages with shaking hands. Her last words were like sunlight piercing a dark room:

“You have asked me if I would give you a chance to be my sun or not?… but can I just be your sunflower… who blooms every time it sees the sun? If I’m not asking too much… can you please say yes to my love?”

The diary slipped from his hands slightly as tears blurred his vision. The realization hit him like a thunderclap every page, every note, every photograph had been a testament to her feelings, her hopes, her unwavering affection. And he had been completely oblivious. 

He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart thundering, and whispered to himself, voice hoarse and trembling, “How… how could she hide this from me? She’s been loving me for four years… and I didn’t even notice once.”

A deep breath caught in his throat as he wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. Every emotion. He reached for the bracelet she had left, holding it close to his chest, letting the weight of it anchor him, of her love, of her trust. Slowly, deliberately, he slipped it into his pocket, a silent promise forming in his heart that he would never let her feel unseen again.

And with one final glance at the diary, at the story of their unspoken love, Ansh turned, his chest heavy but resolute, and stepped out of the arts room. Every beat of his heart now carried her, her emotions, her entire essence and a newfound determination to never let another moment slip away between them

“Are waah, bhaiya… kuch jyada hi time nahi lga diya aapne andar?” Vivaan’s voice cut through the bustling backstage chaos, dripping with sarcasm as he leaned casually against the wall, smirking at Ansh.

Ansh’s heart raced, a mix of anticipation and urgency flooding him. “Where’s Aditi?” he asked, his voice low but tense.

“Samne hi to hai,” Riva replied with a mischievous grin, pointing toward the stage. The lights dimmed slightly, casting a soft glow on the auditorium as the next performance was about to begin.

Ansh slowly moved few steps forward so that he could clearly watch what riva was pointing at.

(please listen to the song “SAHIBA” by “jasleen royal” for further the performance part)

“जे इश्क है करिया, तर गए दरिया रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा”

The first line floated through the auditorium, weaving a magical thread of emotion in the warm, hushed air. The moment the curtains began to part, the audience caught their first glimpse of Aditi on stage. 

She stood with her back to them, the white anarkali suit catching every flicker of the yellow stage lights, shimmering like gentle waves under the sun. The red dupatta draped gracefully over her shoulder and around her waist added a striking contrast, its rich hue blending effortlessly with the elegance of her attire.

“के सारे जग्ग नू भूल गए सब नू रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा” 

Next line filled the auditorium, Aditi slowly turned around, the white anarkali flowing like a gentle cascade around her. Her eyes, lowered at first, held a soft vulnerability, and her hands lifted gracefully into the air, fingertips trembling ever so slightly, as if confessing every secret of her heart to the universe. 

Each movement was deliberate yet delicate a subtle arch of her wrist, a slight tilt of her head, the way her dupatta swayed with her motions making it seem as though the music had become an extension of her very soul.

Then, her gaze lifted, sweeping across the crowd, and froze on Ansh. For a moment, time seemed to suspend. Her eyes locked with his, glowing with quiet intensity, unflinching, unyielding, as if every word of the song was meant solely for him. 

Ansh’s chest tightened, and his breath caught, his heart skipping beats in a rhythm that matched the song. He could feel her emotion seeping across the distance, wrapping around him, making his eyes swell with unshed tears.

“कच्चियां सच्चियां मेरे दिल दी डोरियां भूल के भी तोड़ी ना, तोड़ी ना 

मूंड़ के अखियां तेरे संग जो चलियां कल्ले राह ते छोड़ी ना, छोड़ी ना” 

Aditi’s dance transformed into an intimate, almost sacred expression of longing. Her arms moved slowly, fluidly, as if weaving invisible threads in the air, threads that connected her heart to Ansh’s across the sea of people.

Her head tilted slightly to the side, eyes shimmering with unspoken confessions, lips parted as if she might speak the words she had only ever whispered to herself. Each flick of her red-bangled wrists traced patterns of devotion and hesitation, a visual echo of the fragility of the bond she feared could snap. 

Ansh, frozen amidst the audience, felt every motion as if it was reaching directly into him. His pulse quickened, and his throat tightened, each movement of her hands, each soft pivot of her body, each lingering gaze seemed to whisper: “I’ve held onto you all this time… please don’t let go.” 

“जे इश्क है करिया, तर गए दरिया रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा 

 के सारे जग्ग नू भूल गए सब नू रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा”

As the chorus swelled through the auditorium, Aditi’s entire being seemed to bloom with the music. Her movements grew bolder, more fluid, yet carried a delicate grace, as if each step and swirl was guided by her heart alone.

She spun effortlessly, the fabric of her dress flaring around her like waves, her arms reaching outward as if trying to bridge the distance between her heart and Ansh’s. Every movement held intention, every pause and extension of her fingers spoke volumes of love, of yearning, of the courage it took to finally reveal what she had held inside for so long. 

Ansh, standing frozen, felt the pull of every motion, every glance. His chest tightened, his pulse raced, and the world around him disappeared, leaving only her.. her confession, silent yet deafening, her heart laid bare in the language of dance. 

A single tear escaped his eye, tracing a warm path down his cheek, as he pressed his palm to his mouth, trying to steady the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. The girl he had loved unknowingly for years was here, accepting him, offering herself completely, and in that moment, Ansh felt both reverent and shattered, as if witnessing divinity itself in human form.

“बिन पूछे ही जान ले, मेरा हाल तू माहिया 

 ख्यालों का भी रखता तू मेरे ख्याल तू माहिया,” 

As the music softened with Aditi’s dance transformed into a tender, almost reverent display of gratitude. Her movements slowed, each step deliberate, each arm sweep flowing like liquid emotion, as if she was reaching out to touch the very air that carried his presence.

Her face softened, eyes shimmering with unspoken words, lips curving into a quiet, almost shy smile that spoke of trust, recognition, and appreciation. Every flick of her wrist, every gentle turn, seemed to embody the silent acknowledgment of how he had always understood her, how he had carried her unspoken thoughts and emotions without needing them voiced.

And Ansh, standing amidst the audience, felt it with a weight that pressed deep into his chest. Her gratitude, her vulnerability, her quiet surrender, it reached him in a way that words never could. 

“शर्त नहीं ना सवाल कोई है ऐसा इश्क तेरा 

 शर्त नहीं ना सवाल कोई है ऐसा इश्क तेरा” 

Aditi’s dance slowed, each movement weighted with the emotions she could no longer conceal. Her hands quivered slightly as they pressed against her chest, then stretched outward in a fragile offering, as if silently asking for understanding, forgiveness, and acceptance all at once.

Her eyes dipped for a fleeting moment, shadowed with guilt and regret, yet brimming with a love so deep it could not be denied.

Ansh, standing amidst the crowd, felt the air tighten around him. Tears slipped silently down his cheeks as he clutched her diary.

जे इश्क है करिया, तर गए दरिया रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा

 के सारे जग्ग नू भूल गए सब नू रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा 

Her movements become fluid, almost ethereal, as if she is no longer on the stage but floating in a world woven entirely of devotion and longing. 

Aditi’s eyes, locked onto Ansh, glisten with unshed tears, communicating everything she had held inside for years her love, her patience, her unspoken confessions. 

Ansh feels his heartbeat stutter, a rush of warmth and awe flooding through him. His palms sweat, his chest tightens, and a tremor runs down his spine. Goosebumps erupt as if the universe itself is conspiring to make him feel every unspoken word of hers.

अखियां विच है वसदा माहि अखियां ना खोला मैं 

इश्क मेरा ऐ इश्क अवल्लाह ना किसी ते तोला मैं

Her movements now carry a sacred stillness, each gesture slow, purposeful, as if she is offering her heart to the universe itself but reserving it entirely for him. Her fingers trace invisible circles in the air, her palms facing outward as if presenting her soul, yet her eyes remain locked on Ansh, unblinking, unwavering. Every subtle shift of her body, every tilt of her head, radiates devotion so intense it borders on reverence.

She communicates without words that he has been the only one in her vision, the only presence that matters whenever her eyes open. Her love is singular, immeasurable, untouched by anyone else, a devotion so absolute that even the thought of another presence fades into nothingness.

Ansh is rooted to the spot, chest tightening with every heartbeat. His breaths come shallow and quick as if the air itself is too thin to contain the weight of her love. The emotions crashing into him are almost physical a tidal wave of awe, longing, and helpless admiration. 

His eyes glisten, tears threatening to fall, and for the first time he realizes the true depth of her feelings, leaving him utterly, irrevocably lost in the intensity of her gaze and the purity of her surrender.

शर्त नहीं ना सवाल कोई है ऐसा इश्क तेरा

 शर्त नहीं ना सवाल कोई है ऐसा इश्क मेरा

Her movements are deliberate, reverent, each step a testament to the depth of her feelings. She spins slowly, letting the hem of her anarkali flutter around her like flames of devotion,

Every subtle gesture her lifted hands, the gentle tilt of her head, the soft rise and fall of her chest speaks of a love that has known no hesitation, no doubt, only unwavering surrender.

Her eyes never leave Ansh. They are anchors, tethering her entire being to him, communicating all the words she cannot speak. Each twirl, each glide of her feet across the stage carries a silent, unshakable promise.

And Ansh feels it. Every movement, every fleeting expression, crashes into him like a tidal wave. His fists tighten, his breaths grow shallow, and his chest constricts under the weight of overwhelming emotion. 

He aches to run to her, to hold her, to finally pour out all he has been holding back yet he remains frozen, drinking in the truth of her love, feeling both blessed and painfully vulnerable under the gravity of her gaze.

जे इश्क है करिया, तर गए दरिया रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा 

के सारे जग्ग नू भूल गए सब नू रब मन्नेया तैनू साहिबा

The final notes hang in the air, fading slowly, while Aditi’s body freezes in her last pose—graceful, poised, yet trembling ever so slightly from the intensity of her emotions. Her chest rises and falls like a gentle tide, her hands still lifted as if offering her heart to the universe, yet her eyes remain unwaveringly fixed on Ansh. 

The world around them the cheering crowd, the blinding stage lights, the applause all blur into insignificance. 

And Ansh… he shatters. His breaths come in ragged gasps, tears streaming freely down his face, uncontrolled and unashamed. Every heartbeat screams relief, love, regret, and longing all at once. 

For the first time in years, anyone could see the depth of his vulnerability, the enormity of his emotions. He clutches the diary to his chest, his fingers trembling, his body shaking as he surrenders entirely to the tidal wave of what he has finally realized her love has always been there, unwavering, and he has finally seen it. 

Even Riva, standing behind Ansh with Vivaan, had tears glistening in her eyes, watching her sister’s silent confession unfold on stage. Her heart ached seeing the intensity of emotions between Ansh and Aditi.

“Bhaiya yrr, chale jao Aditi ke pass… mujhe boht single feel ho raha hai,” Vivaan said, trying to play cool as he wiped at his own tears, but the quaver in his voice betrayed him.

Ansh didn’t wait another second. He didn’t care about his tears streaking his face, about the smudged image he might be presenting, or about anyone’s gaze. He ran with desperation, with longing that clawed at his chest, with a singular need to reach her, to hold her, to finally be near the one who had silently owned his heart for so long.

He threw open the backstage door, only to find his friends there, as if they had been waiting just for him.

“Kuch jyada hi accha gift mil gaya tujhe to,” Ruhaan said in a teasing tone, a grin on his face.

“Aditi kaha hai?” Ansh ignored all the comments, his voice thick with desperation, every syllable trembling with urgency.

“Chill saale sahab…teri hi hai ab vo kahi nhai jayegi,” Prateek teased him with a mischievous smirk.

“Shut up, Prateek…tell me please,” Ansh pleaded, his voice raw, almost breaking under the weight of his emotions.

“Kya aap log bhi pareshaan kar rhe ho bss hatto,” Priya said firmly, shoving Prateek and Ruhaan aside, her eyes flicking between Ansh’s desperate gaze and the backstage.

“Vo backyard main gyi hai…whi chale jaiye bhaiya aap,” she said softly, and without even a pause, Ansh bolted. His legs carried him as if they had a mind of their own, fueled by longing, desperation, and the aching knowledge that every second without her felt like a lifetime.

The backyard was quiet, a soft breeze rustling the leaves, but the moment Ansh’s eyes landed on Aditi, everything around him blurred. His steps, which had been running toward her in desperate urgency, slowed, hesitated, as if frozen by the sight of her standing there only for him.

Aditi’s eyes softened as well, catching the way his gaze lingered on her, pure and raw, wet with glistening tears, yet brimming with affection and longing. Her breath caught, and she felt her heart thud in her chest as he slowly approached, each step deliberate, each movement a silent plea. 

She mirrored him, taking tentative steps forward, closing the space between them until the distance was gone, until the world fell away, leaving just the two of them.

Ansh lifted the diary carefully, almost reverently, his hands trembling. “How can you be so good at hiding,” he whispered, tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Aur koi option nahi tha…i can’t ruin your shine,” Aditi replied softly, a small smile touching her lips even as her eyes glistened with moisture.

“Shut up…will you please stop saying that…you never did that and would never do that,” he choked out, voice breaking with emotion.

“Maan leti hu,” she whispered, making them both chuckle softly through their sobs.

Ansh sniffled and whispered, “Chaar saal se mujhse pyaar karti ho aur ik bhi baar bhanak tak nahi lagne di,” his eyes searching hers for the truth in a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“You’re wrong…4 saal, 5 mahine aur 20 din,” she corrected, and his lips parted slightly, stunned.

“Oh god,” he muttered, turning away, overwhelmed again.

“Ab aise muh to modiye…mana maine thoda late kiya, par aap aise muh thodi pher sakte hai mujhse,” Aditi complained, a hint of frustration laced with worry as she saw him break down.

“Aa…aap aise itna ro kyu rahe hai?” she asked, panicked, hands hovering over his face as if unsure how to comfort him.

“Kya…ik baar…bas ik baar…can I hold you?” he asked through choked sobs, vulnerability laid bare in his trembling voice.

“Abhi bhi poochenge aap?” she whispered softly, but then closed the remaining distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him tightly as if shielding him from the world.

Ansh responded instantly, pressing her close, hands clutching her waist, face buried in her neck as he sniffled into her hair. The first hug stretched between them in a quiet eternity, their bodies molding together, hearts pounding in tandem, warmth and relief flooding through every inch of him. He could feel every heartbeat of hers, and in that closeness, the world outside ceased to exist.

“Thank you so much…thank you very much,” he mumbled into her neck, voice broken, soaked with emotion.

“I love you Isha… I love you very much… I promise I won’t let you regret your decision…promise,” he whispered fiercely, holding her as if he could fuse their souls in that embrace, as if letting go was impossible.

“I love you too,” Aditi whispered back, holding him equally tight, her warmth enveloping him completely.

When they finally pulled apart just slightly, it was gentle, hesitant a first taste of space after being completely entwined. Aditi cupped his face, wiping away the tears, her touch lingering. Ansh stared at her face, mesmerized by the closeness, the way her hands felt, the tender pressure of her palms against his cheeks making him flush with warmth.

“Mujhe nhai pta tha aap itna rone lagenge…i should have been prepared…kisi ne bataya bhi nahi mujhe,” she said softly, brushing away the last drops from his cheeks, her voice trembling with concern and love.

“Kisi ne itna pyaar kiya bhi to nahi, jitna tumne kiya,” he murmured, his voice thick, lips quivering, making her blush.

“Aur apne pyaar nahi kiya?” she teased, her lips curving into a small smile despite the emotional storm.

“Tumhare jitna nahi kar paya,” he admitted softly, and then cupped her face once more, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, a silent vow in the kiss.

“Please be close to me…always,” he whispered, and she nodded, closing her eyes, sealing the promise

“Bss bhi karr…meri to hatya hi kar deta agar itni der Priya ke sath rehta main to,” Prateek’s voice cut through the delicate silence, breaking Ansh and Aditi’s intimate moment. Both of them turned sharply, caught off guard, to find Prateek standing there with a teasing grin, and behind him, their friends slowly trickling in, clearly sensing the atmosphere.

Ansh rubbed the back of his neck nervously, the warmth from the hug still clinging to him, while Aditi’s face turned a deep shade of red, her gaze darting around everywhere but daring not to meet anyone, especially not her friends.

“Dekh dekh dekh, kaise bholi bann rahi hai,” Priya’s teasing voice rang out accusingly, her tone light but full of amusement.

“Haa dekh to dhokebaaz ko…chaar saal se lagi padi thi aur bahar se dikhati thi…love is just for fools,” Shagun chimed in, laughter dancing in her words, echoing Priya’s accusation and making Aditi squirm even more.

“And here we have two biggest fools in love in front of us,” Ruhaan added with a teasing smirk, arms crossed and shaking his head in mock disappointment, 

Vivaan laughed loudly, nudging Riva beside him accidentally, too caught up in his mischief to notice. “Aur bichare bhaiya…hayeee…itna to badi maa ki dant pe nahi roye jitna aaj Aditi ne rula diya.”

Riva, clearly fed up, spun around, her voice sharp with mock fury. “Philhaal to tum rone wale ho ab… itna tez kon marta hai?” she shouted, running after Vivaan, who shrieked in panic, waving his hands. “Are sorry yrr…maaf karde!” he yelled, retreating hastily, laughing and dodging her pursuit.

Ruhaan shook his head, wrapping his arm around Ansh’s shoulder, his grin mischievous. “Chalo finally…head boy became officially committed…kyu Mr. Head boy?”

Ansh, still blushing and looking down at the floor, felt his heart race from embarrassment and exhilaration. 

Priya leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with playful insistence. “Ab bol bhi do bhaiya,” she urged, the excitement in her voice matching the teasing energy around them.

Ansh finally lifted his gaze, eyes finding Aditi’s, soft and glowing despite her shyness. “Haan bol du?” he asked gently, his voice low, seeking her silent permission. Aditi quietly nodded, lowering her eyes, a small smile curving her lips.

A slow, triumphant grin spread across Ansh’s face, the tension melting into pure joy. “Yesss,” he declared, voice brimming with happiness, the loverboy charm undeniable, making everyone around burst into laughter at the sight of him so openly blushing yet victorious.

“Achha chalo ab saare… ghar bhi jana hai,” Prateek announced, clapping his hands lightly, his tone practical yet satisfied, earning nods of agreement from everyone gathered there. The emotional high was slowly settling into something warm and real.

“Tum log to saath hi jaoge na?” Ruhaan asked casually, already guessing the answer.

“Haan… didi aur bhaiya aaye hai function mein bas… unhi ke saath jayenge ab… aap bhi chalo hamare saath,” Vivaan said from behind, slinging an arm around someone as if the plan was already fixed.

“Nahi… mujhe kuch important kaam hai,” Ruhaan replied smoothly, his eyes drifting almost unconsciously towards Shagun.

“Haan haan… kyu nahi… important kaam,” Prateek rolled his eyes dramatically, instantly catching the hint. Shagun’s lips curved into a shy smile, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, which Priya noticed immediately and nudged her playfully, earning a small gasp and an even redder face.

“Chalo abhi saare,” Riva declared, taking charge as usual. One by one, everyone turned around and began walking, laughter and chatter filling the space as the group slowly moved ahead.

Aditi followed behind them, her steps light, Ansh walking beside her with his hands tucked into his pockets, still trying to calm the storm of emotions in his chest. 

He leaned slightly toward her, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Tumhe nahi lagta tum kuch bhool rahi ho?”

“Huh… main? Kya?” Aditi looked up at him, genuinely confused, her brows knitting together.

Ansh stopped, a soft smile playing on his lips as he pulled something out of his pocket. “Ye,” he said, revealing the bracelet.

Realisation dawned instantly. Aditi’s eyes lit up, her smile blooming wide and genuine as her ears turned a deep shade of red. She stopped walking and gently extended her hand towards him.

“Aap hi pehnaiye,” she whispered, her voice shy but certain.

Ansh froze for half a second, his heart skipping before he carefully unclasped the bracelet. With slow, reverent movements, he fastened it around her delicate wrist, his fingers brushing against her skin, lingering just a little longer than necessary as if memorising the moment. He bent slightly, pressing a soft, tender kiss to her wrist.

Aditi’s breath hitched, her face burning as she looked away, utterly flustered.

“It’s really looking more beautiful than I’ve imagined,” Ansh whispered, his gaze fixed on the bracelet, her hand still held securely in his.

“Ab aap kahin nahi bhaag sakte… aapki permanent booking ho chuki hai,” Aditi teased, lifting her wrist proudly, mischief dancing in her eyes.

As my Isha says,” Ansh replied, bending slightly in a playful bow. Both of them laughed softly, the sound light and intimate.

“Mukka maar dunga Ansh… ab bohot ho raha hai,” Prateek snapped, turning around to glare at them, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“Awreee bhaiyaaa ywarrr… dekh nahi rahe kya… head boy is busy doing his boyfriend duty now… thoda to samjhooo,” Vivaan chimed in, deliberately pitching his voice into an exaggerated feminine tone as he walked up and pinched Ansh’s cheeks.

“Hatt be,” Ansh shot back, swatting at him, but Vivaan dodged easily, breaking into laughter along with everyone else.
________________________________

That’s all for this chapter….hope you liked it.💕😋

BTW confession achha laga??🥹

Milte hai next chapter main….Don’t forget to vote and leave a comment.🫶

Lots of love♥️

~Prachi 💌

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//qc
//QC2