18-08-2025, 09:50 AM
Varnika shrugged, but her eyes betrayed the weight of it.
“Because he’s the one I don’t want to walk away from without trying. And because you’d understand anyway.”
That last part softened something in Meghana.
She exhaled, sinking onto one of the kitchen chairs. “You’ve been carrying this for a while.”
“Since that morning I walked out,” Varnika admitted.
“And maybe even before. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Meghana tapped her fingers lightly against the table, thoughtful. “So what did you actually tell him?”
Varnika hesitated for a beat, then sat down across from her, eyes steady.
“I asked him to be my boyfriend. My short-term boyfriend. Until I leave.”
For a moment, Meghana just stared.
Then, unexpectedly, she let out a laugh, warm, incredulous. “You asked him? Like that?”
“Very sweetly,” Varnika said, mock-prim. “And he said yes.”
Meghana shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re one to talk,” Varnika shot back, her grin returning.
“You already crossed the line with him. I’m just… catching up.”
Instead of bristling, Meghana chuckled, resting her chin on her palm.
“Catching up? What is this a competition? And you’re sure this isn’t just a one-night experiment?”
“Way more,” Varnika said, snagging a slice of papaya.
“Short-term boyfriend. Full-term memories. And no guilt.”
Meghana rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
“Only we could have this conversation without throwing fruit at each other.”
“Please,” Varnika grinned, licking papaya juice from her finger.
“If I threw anything, it’d be to distract you long enough to steal him first.”
They both laughed, not like rivals, but like co-conspirators.
The kind of laughter that comes when secrets don’t divide, but bind.
And beneath it all, an unspoken truth lingered:
They weren’t just sisters anymore.
They were partners in the strangest, most dangerous, most exhilarating pact either had ever made.
“Because he’s the one I don’t want to walk away from without trying. And because you’d understand anyway.”
That last part softened something in Meghana.
She exhaled, sinking onto one of the kitchen chairs. “You’ve been carrying this for a while.”
“Since that morning I walked out,” Varnika admitted.
“And maybe even before. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Meghana tapped her fingers lightly against the table, thoughtful. “So what did you actually tell him?”
Varnika hesitated for a beat, then sat down across from her, eyes steady.
“I asked him to be my boyfriend. My short-term boyfriend. Until I leave.”
For a moment, Meghana just stared.
Then, unexpectedly, she let out a laugh, warm, incredulous. “You asked him? Like that?”
“Very sweetly,” Varnika said, mock-prim. “And he said yes.”
Meghana shook her head, smiling despite herself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re one to talk,” Varnika shot back, her grin returning.
“You already crossed the line with him. I’m just… catching up.”
Instead of bristling, Meghana chuckled, resting her chin on her palm.
“Catching up? What is this a competition? And you’re sure this isn’t just a one-night experiment?”
“Way more,” Varnika said, snagging a slice of papaya.
“Short-term boyfriend. Full-term memories. And no guilt.”
Meghana rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
“Only we could have this conversation without throwing fruit at each other.”
“Please,” Varnika grinned, licking papaya juice from her finger.
“If I threw anything, it’d be to distract you long enough to steal him first.”
They both laughed, not like rivals, but like co-conspirators.
The kind of laughter that comes when secrets don’t divide, but bind.
And beneath it all, an unspoken truth lingered:
They weren’t just sisters anymore.
They were partners in the strangest, most dangerous, most exhilarating pact either had ever made.
-- oOo --
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