23-06-2025, 01:19 AM
They straightened almost in sync, eyes still locked for a heartbeat longer before turning away.
Meghana walked in, shaking rain from her dupatta. Her gaze flicked from one to the other. She noticed. Of course, she noticed. But said nothing.
Abhi stood up, brushing his palms on his jeans. “Just keeping her company,” he said casually.
“I can see that,” Meghana replied, with a glance that didn’t give anything away.
“We made Maggi,” Varnika said quickly, rising and stretching, her kurti shifting slightly with the movement. “He even did the dishes.”
Meghana raised a brow. “That’s new.”
“Maybe I just needed the right kitchen,” Abhi said, his eyes sliding to Varnika, this time deliberately. Just long enough.
She caught it. Every flicker of it.
So did Meghana.
But the moment passed, out loud, at least.
Abhi grabbed his keys from the table. “I should head out. See you both tomorrow?”
“Yoga in the morning?” Meghana asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said.
Varnika followed him to the door, barefoot, arms loosely folded, eyes unreadable.
“Thanks again,” she said, her voice low.
He looked at her—really looked. The damp edge of her hair curling along her neck. The rise of her collarbone, faint and elegant beneath the soft fabric. That half-smile she wore like a secret.
“You make it hard to leave,” he said.
She didn’t blink. Just tilted her head, lips curving slowly. “That’s the idea.”
And then he was gone.
But the warmth stayed. The weight of that look. The hush between them that hadn’t been broken—only paused.
For now.
Meghana walked in, shaking rain from her dupatta. Her gaze flicked from one to the other. She noticed. Of course, she noticed. But said nothing.
Abhi stood up, brushing his palms on his jeans. “Just keeping her company,” he said casually.
“I can see that,” Meghana replied, with a glance that didn’t give anything away.
“We made Maggi,” Varnika said quickly, rising and stretching, her kurti shifting slightly with the movement. “He even did the dishes.”
Meghana raised a brow. “That’s new.”
“Maybe I just needed the right kitchen,” Abhi said, his eyes sliding to Varnika, this time deliberately. Just long enough.
She caught it. Every flicker of it.
So did Meghana.
But the moment passed, out loud, at least.
Abhi grabbed his keys from the table. “I should head out. See you both tomorrow?”
“Yoga in the morning?” Meghana asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said.
Varnika followed him to the door, barefoot, arms loosely folded, eyes unreadable.
“Thanks again,” she said, her voice low.
He looked at her—really looked. The damp edge of her hair curling along her neck. The rise of her collarbone, faint and elegant beneath the soft fabric. That half-smile she wore like a secret.
“You make it hard to leave,” he said.
She didn’t blink. Just tilted her head, lips curving slowly. “That’s the idea.”
And then he was gone.
But the warmth stayed. The weight of that look. The hush between them that hadn’t been broken—only paused.
For now.
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