"If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were."
♡
"I saw this girl at the age of 13, and among all the memories of that year, the best I remember is being absolutely crazy about her. B...
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Third Person's POV
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The same evening, as the setting sun cast its golden hue over the bustling streets, Sharvi found herself drawn to the comfort of a quaint place nestled amidst the lively cityscape that she often frequented.
The place, a charming blend of cafe and craft shop, welcomed patrons with its cosy ambiance and eclectic decor. Owned by an Indian couple, one corner of the place exuded the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and delicious treats, while the other was adorned with vibrant tapestries, intricately carved wooden furniture, and shelves displaying an array of handcrafted treasures. The soothing strains of Indian music floated through the air, as people buzzed around.
After a long day at work, Sharvi, made her way in, and placed her order. She waited, patiently anticipating the ringing of the bell to call her at the self-service counter to take her coffee. With many people ahead of her, the wait seemed endless, prompting her to explore the craft shop section while she passed the time.
As her gaze swept across the array of handcrafted treasures, her eyes alighted on a flower vase adorned with bright red artificial Bougainvillea flowers. Its intricate design and vibrant colours caught her attention, drawing her closer.
Before she could reach out to touch it, however, she froze in place as she noticed a figure already examining the vase—a figure she knew all too well.
Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the familiar profile of Parth, his presence casting a sudden spell of intensity over the moment.
Time seemed to stand still as she watched him, her breath catching in her throat. Parth, oblivious to her presence, turned the vase over in his hands, his brow furrowing in concentration as he studied its intricate details. As he lifted it closer to inspect the craftsmanship, the soft light filtering through the windows caught the contours of his face, casting his features in a warm, golden glow.
For Sharvi, the sight of him was both mesmerising and unsettling, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within her.
Feeling the weight of someone's gaze upon him, Parth's instincts kicked in, compelling him to turn. And there, his eyes met hers. Sharvi.
In the fraction of a second that their eyes met, the world around them seemed to shift and change. As if on cue, the melody of the music shifted seamlessly, the soft strains of Bade Achche Lagte Hain playing. The song held countless memories for both of them, each note resonating with the echoes of their shared past and the unspoken emotions that lingered between them.
