'She is sad.'

That’s the only thought echoing in my mind since the moment I saw her this morning in the park. Her usual brightness seemed dulled, her eyes reflecting a quiet heaviness that I couldn’t quite place. We’re walking side by side, as we often do, but today there’s a distance I can’t cross. Every attempt I make to stir up conversation is met with short, clipped responses—her words almost feel like they’re an obligation rather than a connection. It’s as if her heart is somewhere else, weighed down by something she’s not ready to share. And here I am, helpless, trying to fill the silence with empty chatter, wishing I knew how to reach the part of her that’s hurting.

I stopped walking, bringing our quiet stroll to an abrupt halt. She paused, her steps faltering as she turned to face me, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"What’s wrong, Viaansh?" she asked, her voice gentle but distant, as if she hadn't realized that I’d been watching her closely, sensing every shift in her mood.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to mask my concern but failing.

"You tell me what’s wrong, Aadhu," I said, my voice softer now, laced with the worry I could no longer hold back. "You’re dull today."

Without thinking, my hand reached out, my fingers brushing against her cheek, the warmth of her skin contrasting the cold sadness in her eyes. I caressed her gently, hoping the touch would somehow draw her out of the shell she had retreated into. It was a small gesture, but in that moment, it felt like the only way I could tell her how much her sadness was weighing on me too.

Her eyes glistened, and before I could say another word, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. The weight of her sadness poured out as she buried her face into my chest, her body trembling with quiet sobs.

For a moment, I stood frozen, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of her emotions. I hesitated, unsure of how to comfort her, of whether I could truly ease whatever pain she was carrying. But then, instinctively, my hand found its way to her hair, gently threading through the strands as I began to caress her, offering her the only solace I could in that moment.

Each sob that racked her body felt like it echoed within me, and as she clung to me, I realized just how much she had been holding in. This wasn't just sadness—it was everything she hadn’t been able to say, every tear she had swallowed back until now. And all I could do was hold her, hoping my presence was enough to remind her that she didn’t have to carry it alone.

Once her sobs quieted and her breathing steadied, she pulled back slightly and looked up at me, her eyes still damp but filled with a new kind of fear.

"When I got home yesterday," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Adrit and Mamma Papa were talking about something very seriously. I accidentally overheard their conversation. They were telling Adrit to break up with Mahika. They sounded so harsh, Viaansh. They didn’t say anything in front of me because they think I’m just a kid." Her voice trembled, and I could feel the weight of what she was about to say.

"Later that night, I heard Bhai crying in his room. I went inside and saw him—he was crying so heartbreakingly. He hugged me so tightly and fell asleep in my arms. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel how shattered he was. And now..." She paused, her lips quivering as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "Viaansh... what if Mamma Papa don’t approve of us?"

Her words hung in the air, heavy and filled with the kind of vulnerability that cut deep. I could see the fear in her eyes—not just for Adrit, but for us, for what we had. She wasn’t just sad; she was terrified of losing everything she held dear. The idea that the people she loved the most might stand in the way of her happiness was breaking her from the inside, and the pain was something I could feel as if it were my own.

Gently, I cupped her face, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen. "Aadhu," I whispered, my voice steady but aching, "we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone in this. No matter what happens, I won’t let you face it on your own."

But deep down, I knew that her fear wasn’t something I could simply soothe away. It was real, and it was something we might have to face sooner than either of us was ready for.

She broke the hug, her warmth slipping away as quickly as it had come. Her eyes, once filled with tears, now carried a trace of frustration, as if my words hadn’t reached her, hadn’t eased the storm brewing inside.

“No, Viaansh,” she said quietly but firmly, stepping away from me. "This isn’t as easy as you think." Her voice, though steady, carried a weight that felt like a chasm opening between us. I could see the pain in her expression, the fear that this wasn’t something we could fix with promises or reassurance.

Before I could respond, she turned and started walking, her footsteps heavy as she put more distance between us. Each step felt like she was leaving me behind, not just physically, but emotionally. I stood frozen, watching her retreat, my chest tightening as I realized that no matter how much I wanted to be her anchor, I couldn’t hold her together if she was slipping away like this.

The path ahead seemed longer than ever, not just in distance but in all the uncertainties that lay ahead of us. She was right—it wasn’t easy. And for the first time, the weight of the obstacles we might face together felt overwhelming.

I ran after her, determined not to let the space between us grow any further. Grabbing her hand, I cleared my throat, trying to catch her attention. "Have you heard the song 'Chaar Kadam'?"

She nodded, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Then you must remember the lyrics," I continued, "'Bin pooche mera naam aur pata, rasmon ko rakhke pade.'"

Before she could react, I twirled her around, catching her completely off guard. The tension between us seemed to break, if only for a moment.

"Chaar kadam, bas chaar kadam chal do na saath mere," I sang, taking exaggerated, playful steps with her, hoping to lighten the mood. My grip on her hand tightened slightly as I led her forward, my voice softening with the next lines, "Bin kuch kahe, bin kuch sune, haathon mein haath liye...Chaar kadam bas chaar kadam chaldo na saath mere...  "

Her lips curled into a smile, the sadness in her eyes momentarily lifting as she realized what I was trying to do. Slowly, she encircled her arms around me, resting her head against my chest.

But just as a smile of victory began to bloom on my lips, her expression shifted. Her face became unreadable again, and without a word, she turned and resumed walking, leaving me behind with only the sound of her footsteps fading in the distance.

I couldn’t let her drift away like this. Without thinking twice, I dashed after her, catching up in a few quick strides. The sunlight, sharp and unrelenting, was casting a glare across her face. I instinctively raised my hand, shielding her from its harshness as I matched her pace. My voice, soft and playful, broke the silence as I began to sing,

"Rahon mein tum ko jo dhoop sataye, chhao bicha denge ham."

Before she could walk too far, I swept her off the ground in one swift motion, her startled yelp turning into a light-hearted laugh as I spun her around. The world seemed to blur around us, and I couldn’t help but sing louder, my voice chasing her laughter,

"Andhere daraye to jaakar falak pe chaand saja denge ham."

As the spin slowed, I gently brought her back down, our feet finding solid ground once more. Without missing a beat, I intertwined our hands, guiding her closer. I placed her free hand on my shoulder, while my other hand slid naturally to her waist, pulling her into a makeshift couple's dance. We swayed lightly, as if the world around us had turned into our own private stage. My voice softened, almost a whisper as I sang with a smile,

"Chaye udasi lateefein suna kar tujh ko hasa denge ham."

Her laughter melted into a beaming smile, one that reached her eyes and lit up her entire face. We continued walking, now taking exaggerated, playful steps, as though the world had turned into a whimsical dance floor, and we were the only two people on it.

"Haste-haste yuhi gungunate chal denge chaar kadam."

Her smile mirrored my own, our steps in sync with each other, as though we had created our own little bubble of happiness that no one could touch. We were taking those 'Chaar kadam' of our life.

As we continued our exaggerated, playful steps, she suddenly stopped. Her smile lingered as she turned towards me, her eyes sparkling in the fading sunlight. Without a word, she stepped closer, her arms slowly encircling my neck. The movement was so natural, as if it was always meant to happen this way. Her touch was warm, and the closeness made my heart skip a beat.

For a moment, everything else faded away. It was just her smile, soft and genuine, filling the space between us. The world felt still, wrapped in the unspoken understanding that seemed to pass through her gaze.

She began to sing softly, her voice warm and tender, "'Tum sa rahe jo koi reh guzar, duniya se kaun dare?'"

Her finger trailed gently from my forehead down to my jawline, a delicate touch that sent warmth flooding through me. With a playful smirk, she continued, "'Chaar kadam kya, saari umar chal dungi saath tere.'"

Her words hung in the air, laced with a quiet promise, one that made my heart swell. This moment, this connection between us, felt like a small victory over the doubts and fears that had clouded her mind. For now, we were lost in our own world—just the two of us, taking those 'chaar kadam' together, one step at a time.

She threw her head back, her laughter filling the air, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause around us. It was the most surreal view—the kind that leaves an imprint on your soul. Her green eyes, now sparkling with joy, met mine, and I could feel the unspoken connection between us deepening.

Her gaze lingered, moving from my light brown eyes to my lips, and in that fleeting second, her laughter faded. In its place was something else—something raw, filled with longing and uncertainty. Her smile disappeared, replaced by a quiet intensity, as if she was on the edge of making a decision she had been holding back for too long.

She looked at me again, her eyes searching mine for reassurance, for permission. But I didn’t need to say a word. I blinked slowly, surrendering myself to her completely, telling her with that silent gesture that she never needed my consent to love me. I was already hers in every way that mattered.

Without hesitation, she closed the space between us, her lips meeting mine with a tenderness that spoke of all the emotions she had been holding back. It wasn’t rushed or uncertain—it was like a release, a culmination of all the unsaid words and shared moments that had led us here. In that kiss, I could feel her fear, her love, her need for reassurance, and all I could do was kiss her back, letting her know that no matter what, I was right here with her, always.

But our moment was abruptly interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. We pulled away from each other, our faces flushed, and looked up to see a guard, probably in his late twenties, standing a few feet away.

"Bhaisaab, this is a family park," he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as if he had witnessed more than just our tender exchange. I glanced over at Aadhira, who was now blushing furiously, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue.

"Bhaiya ji," I began, trying to match the light-heartedness of the situation, "if this is a family park, then shouldn’t it be the best place to start thinking about expanding our family? Don’t you think?"

Aadhira nudged me playfully with her elbow, a mischievous grin breaking through her embarrassment. The guard’s laughter rang out, hearty and genuine, cutting through the awkwardness.

"Bhaisahab," the guard replied with a chuckle, "Even I wanted to make a family with my wife here, but the authorities are quite strict about it."

I couldn’t help but laugh along, nodding in understanding.

"Thank you, bhaiya ji," I said, my tone appreciative and light-hearted. "We’ll keep that in mind."

With a final smile, the guard turned and walked away, leaving us to our laughter and the lingering warmth of our shared moment. As he disappeared from view, I looked at Aadhira, her eyes still sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection, and knew that this was a moment we’d both remember with a smile.

Aadhira turned her face away, her cheeks flushing a deep, vibrant red with embarrassment. The sight was endearing, her shyness a charming contrast to the boldness of our recent moment.

I couldn’t help but smile, my heart swelling with affection as I gently took her hands in mine. We began to walk, our steps syncing in a comfortable rhythm.

"Why are you shy?" I asked softly, my voice carrying a reassuring tone. "In the future, this is something we’ll do every time we see each other, every time we feel happy, or even when we're sad. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about."

Her hand felt warm and comforting in mine, a silent promise of the closeness we shared. "It’s just us, Aadhu. And there’s nothing wrong with showing how we feel, no matter who’s watching or what anyone thinks. It’s a part of us, and it’s beautiful."

Her gaze met mine again, the initial flush of red slowly giving way to a soft smile. The words I had spoken, meant to comfort and assure her, seemed to have found their mark. We continued walking, hand in hand, the simple act of our shared journey more meaningful than ever.

"Thank you, Viaansh," she said softly, her voice carrying a tone of genuine gratitude. "Thank you for those comforting words. They really meant a lot to me. And I’m sorry if I was harsh with you."

As she spoke, her thumb gently caressed my arms, a tender gesture that conveyed more than words ever could. The warmth of her touch was both soothing and sincere, a silent apology and an expression of her feelings all at once.

I looked at her, my smile gentle and understanding. "You don’t have to apologize, Aadhu. We all have our moments, and I’m just glad I could be here for you. We’ll get through everything together, no matter what."

Her touch lingered, a reminder of the connection we shared, as we walked side by side, feeling more in sync than ever.

Soon, the fatigue from our long walk began to set in, and we decided to find a spot to rest. We spotted a shaded area beneath a large tree and made our way over. The grass was soft and inviting, and we settled down, finding comfort in the cool shade and the natural tranquility of the park.

As we sat there, the gentle rustling of the leaves overhead provided a soothing backdrop to our conversation. The space beneath the tree felt like a small haven, a quiet refuge where we could unwind and simply enjoy each other's company. The serenity of the moment allowed us to reflect on the day's events and to savor the peaceful connection we had forged.

She reached into her picnic basket and pulled out a muffin, offering it to me with a bright, cheerful smile. "I made these muffins for you. Eat it and tell me how it is."

I took the muffin from her hand, my smile widening as I appreciated the thoughtfulness of her gesture. I took a bite, savoring the flavor as I chewed, and glanced up to find her eyes fixed on me, gleaming with anticipation.

Her face lit up even more as I finished the bite, and I could see the eagerness in her expression, waiting for my reaction. I savored the moment, making sure my response matched the warmth she had put into baking. "This is incredible, Aadhu. It tastes amazing. You’ve outdone yourself."

Her smile widened, clearly pleased by the compliment. The simple act of sharing this moment made the muffins even sweeter, as it was wrapped in the affection and care she had put into them.

Maybe she got a bit too excited, as she suddenly rose on her knees and threw her arms around me in a tight hug. In her enthusiasm, she stumbled and ended up falling onto my lap. Our eyes locked, and the proximity between us was electric, our faces just inches apart.

"This is a family park," I whispered, my voice low and filled with a teasing warmth. "Otherwise, I would have kissed the hell out of you right now, just like I wanted to before. That’s how divine you look under the sunlight."

I emphasized the words 'family park,' letting the playful tone linger as my gaze softened. Her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and joy, and the moment felt charged with a sweet intimacy, where every word and gesture seemed to deepen the connection between us.

She playfully slapped my arm and then carefully got up from my lap, settling back down on the ground beside me. Her laughter filled the air, light and carefree, as she adjusted her position.

But I wasn’t ready to let go of the closeness just yet. With a determined smile, I lay down, resting my head on her lap. The warmth and comfort of her presence were irresistible, and I relished the simple joy of being so close to her.

She smiled down at me, her fingers tangling gently in my hair. Her touch was tender and soothing, a silent promise of her affection. With a soft, loving gaze, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, her lips lingering for a moment as if to convey all the unspoken feelings between us.

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in a peaceful cocoon of shared warmth and affection.

"Act as childish as you want today, Vian. I’m here to protect you," she said softly, her voice full of reassurance. "Forget all your burdens, responsibilities, and life problems. Just focus on being yourself. Let me be your bodyguard, just for today."

Her words wrapped around me like a warm embrace, offering a rare moment of refuge from the complexities of life. As I lay there, her touch and her promise created a safe space where I could simply be—unburdened and free from the usual pressures. Her dedication to shielding me from the world’s demands felt like a cherished gift, making every moment spent in her presence even more precious.

"You just gave me a nickname," I chuckled, my voice light and amused.

She looked at me with a playful glint in her eyes, her expression softening. "You’ve always had a nickname for me, but I didn’t have one for you. I’ve been thinking of one for a while now."

Her words carried a sense of intimacy and thoughtfulness, revealing how much she cherished our connection. The idea of finding a nickname for me, just as I had for her, felt like another layer of the bond we shared.

I shot up suddenly, the sudden burst of energy taking even me by surprise. She looked at me, completely perplexed, her brow raised as if trying to read my thoughts.

"Let’s go have ice cream!" I said with childlike excitement, my eyes lighting up at the thought.

"Why so sudde—" she started to ask, but I cut her off, grabbing her hand and quickly picking up the picnic basket. Without giving her a chance to protest, I pulled her to her feet, my impatience bubbling over.

"Come fast!" I whined, running ahead like a carefree child. Her laughter rang out behind me, filling the air and my heart all at once. The sound was infectious, and I could feel the weight of everything slipping away as we ran, lost in the simplicity of the moment.

As soon as we exited the park, our eyes landed on an ice cream stall. Without hesitation, we ran towards it, our excitement palpable. "Two chocobars, please," I said confidently, already knowing her favorite.

I reached for my wallet, ready to pay, but before I could, I noticed Aadhira had already handed the vendor the money. I turned and glared at her, feigning annoyance, but she met my glare with one of her own, her expression defiant.

"I’m an independent woman," she said firmly, her tone playful but resolute.

"Hmm… on your father’s money?" I teased, watching as her stern facade melted away into a sheepish smile. I couldn’t help but chuckle, the playful banter between us making the moment even sweeter.

We sat on a bench nearby, each with our ice cream in hand, enjoying the moment in peaceful silence. Aadhira took a bite, her eyes lighting up as she savored the flavor. "Mmm... I love chocobars," she moaned, her voice carrying a certain warmth that stirred something inside me.

I swallowed thickly, trying to push away the thoughts that suddenly crowded my mind. My eyes betrayed me, though, drifting to the way she licked the ice cream with a casual ease. I sighed inwardly, trying to regain control of my wandering mind.

She caught my expression and licked her lips, a curious smile playing on her face. "What happened?" she asked, her innocent tone only intensifying the struggle I was facing.

"No-nothing," I stammered, forcing a sheepish smile, hoping she couldn’t read the thoughts racing in my head.

"Then eat, stupid," she teased, nodding toward the melting ice cream in my hand.

I nodded, quickly bringing the ice cream to my mouth, trying desperately to focus on it rather than the growing tension inside me. My mind raced, but I forced myself to stay present, to enjoy the moment with her instead of getting lost in thoughts I wasn’t ready to admit.

After finishing our ice cream, I stood up and casually said, "I need to use the washroom."

She nodded with a smile, "Alright, hurry back."

I quickly made my way to the men's washroom, trying to shake off the awkward tension building up inside me. Once inside, I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping it would cool both my thoughts and my body.

Taking a deep breath, I chuckled at myself. *Get it together, Viaansh,* I thought, shaking my head. I composed myself and made my way back to where Aadhira was sitting, still enjoying the afternoon breeze.

As I approached, she raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You good?" she asked playfully, her tone teasing.

"Never better," I replied, grinning as I plopped down beside her, trying to regain my usual composure. "So, what’s next on our adventure?"

She laughed, clearly picking up on my attempt to change the subject. "Well, that depends... Can you handle it?"

I grinned, feeling the playfulness return between us. "Bring it on, Aadhu."

"First, let's go grab some lunch. After that, I want to check out the mall. Okay?" Aadhira said, her tone casual but excited.

I couldn’t help but grin. Standing up, I gave a dramatic bow, lowering myself with a bit too much flair. "As you say, princess," I said, trying to sound as smooth as possible.

Her laughter made the whole thing worth it.

The engine roared to life, and as I felt the vibration through the bike, Aadhira's embrace tightened around me. Her arms wrapped securely around my torso, the warmth of her body contrasting with the cool breeze that swept over us. The familiar hum of the engine seemed to echo the pulse of our shared excitement, an unspoken connection between us as we sped off into the afternoon.

“Where do you want to go? Mexican, French, Chi—” I was cut off by her, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint.

“Punjabi dhaba,” she declared with a grin, her choice ringing with a mix of nostalgia and enthusiasm.

“It’s a very cheap place,” I protested, my voice barely cutting through the roar of my bullet as it cut through the air.

“Shut up, Viaan,” she retorted, her tone both exasperated and affectionate. “It’s not like we’re billionaires.” She rested her head on my back, her warmth grounding me despite the chaos around us.

"Why do you say such things

“Fine,” I conceded, my voice softening. The tension eased as I felt her head gently resting against me.

We reached the dhaba by 1:30 p.m., the midday sun casting a warm glow over the rustic outdoor tables. As we settled into our seats, the atmosphere was a blend of comfort and simplicity.

A waiter approached, ready to take our order. “Two naan, dal makhni, and shahi paneer with gulab jamun,” she chirped with a cheerful air, her enthusiasm infectious.

The waiter glanced at me, and I smiled. “Same for me,” I replied, mirroring her choice.

"Viaan... Pyaar kaise hota hai?" Her question came out of nowhere, catching me completely off guard.

I glanced at her, a playful smile already tugging at the corners of my lips. Instead of answering her directly, I leaned back in my chair and started singing softly, my voice teasing yet sincere,

"Aakhein khuli ho ya ho band didaar unka hota hai. Kaise kahoon mein o yaara ye pyaar kaise hota hai?"

Her laughter erupted, filling the space between us with warmth and light, as if the entire dhaba had shifted to the rhythm of her joy.

"Come on, Viaan," she said through her laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're really in a singing mood today, huh?"

I shrugged, still smiling. "What can I say? You bring it out of me."

Our orders arrived soon after, and I couldn't help but notice the way Aadhira's eyes lit up the moment the waiter placed the naan, shahi paneer, and gulab jamun in front of her. Her mouth almost visibly watered, and she inhaled deeply, savoring the rich aroma of spices and butter before the first bite.

I chuckled softly, watching her excitement. "Looks like someone’s in love... with food."

She shot me a playful glare, but her focus quickly returned to the steaming plate in front of her, anticipation dancing in her eyes.

We finished our lunch quickly, the delicious meal leaving both of us satisfied. But as the waiter approached with the bill, Aadhira suddenly sat up, her expression turning serious.

"Viaan... I will pay," she said, her tone firm.

I shot her a surprised look, my eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "Wait—what?! I’m not broke, Aadhu. And you already paid at the ice cream stall, remember?"

She narrowed her eyes playfully, trying to stand her ground. "Let’s just do 50-50, then?" she suggested, her innocent, wide green eyes giving me that almost-too-adorable look she knew I couldn’t resist.

"No, baba," I said, shaking my head, "you already paid for the ice cream."

"It was only 40 rupees!" she whined, clearly not ready to give up.

"So what?" I smirked. "Your fault for paying then. If you hadn’t, maybe I would’ve thought about letting you pay here."

"Maybe?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, testing me.

"Yes, maybe," I repeated, knowing full well I wouldn’t have let her pay either way.

With a stubborn determination, she reached out to hand her card to the waiter, but I was quicker. I caught her wrist, my fingers wrapping around her hand firmly as I shot her a mock-glare, my eyes daring her to try again. For a moment, she seemed genuinely intimidated by the intensity in my gaze, and she froze.

I handed my card to the waiter with a silent look that said I wasn’t going to back down. He quickly scanned it, gave me the receipt, and with that, it was settled.

As we walked out of the dhaba, the air between us still buzzing with the playful back-and-forth, I couldn't help but smirk. She might be stubborn, but when it came to these little battles, I wasn't about to let her win. Not today.

"Viaan?" she called softly as we approached the Bullet, her voice catching my attention.

"Hmmm?" I responded, glancing over at her.

"Shall we go home now?" she asked, her tone light but carrying a hint of hesitation.

I couldn't resist teasing her. "Already bored of me?" I grinned.

She shook her head quickly, her eyes looking anywhere but directly at me. "No way, Viaan. It's just... we've spent enough today. I don’t want to burden you with our relationship. I want to support you, not add to your worries," she said, her gaze fixed on the side of my head, as if saying it out loud made her feel a little vulnerable.

Hearing that, I stopped in my tracks, turning to face her fully. Gently, I cupped her cheeks in my hands, tilting her face up so our eyes could meet. "Aadhu," I said softly, my voice filled with sincerity, "you give me all the support I need just by being here with me. Emotionally, you’re everything to me. And you? You’re never a burden."

Her eyes softened, and a small, relieved smile played on her lips.

"Come on," I said, my voice lifting the moment with a playful note, "we still have to hit the mall."

Her smile widened, and with a light chuckle, she nodded. "Alright, alright. Let’s go, then."

We resumed walking, her earlier worries fading as the playful energy between us returned, and with it, the comfort that came from simply being together.