𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 ℱ𝒾𝒻𝓉ℯℯ𝓃

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"Tu dede mera saath thaam le haath...
Chahe jo bhi ho baat,
tu bas de de mera saath...
Tu dede mera saath thaam le haath...
Chahe jo bhi ho baat."
˚⊱🪷⊰˚

The early morning sun spills over Shimla's rolling hills, turning the town into a golden canvas. Aarna adjusts her dupatta, her steps light as she leads the way. Behind her, Vihaan lingers, his hands buried in his pockets, his grin growing wider each time she throws a glance over her shoulder. She is a soft breeze, elusive and enticing, and he, the storm, struggles to keep up.

"Aap dheere bhi chal sakti hai, Aarna ji." He calls out, his voice laced with mock complaint, dragging his feet deliberately against the gravel path.
(You could walk slower, you know.)

"Yah aap thoda te chal sakte hai, Vihaan ji." She retorts without missing a beat, her voice teasing, like the melody of wind chimes swaying in the breeze.

(Or you could walk faster.)

"You'd leave me behind?" he asks, quickening his pace just enough to match hers. "What if I get lost?"

Aarna shoots him a look, her lips twitching with barely concealed amusement. "Shimla isn't a maze, Vihaan ji. I think you'd survive."

"Survive?" He presses a hand dramatically to his chest. "Not without my guide."

She shakes her head, but her smile betrays her. When they reach the small school nestled between towering deodar trees, she pushes open the wrought-iron gate, her movements fluid and practiced. The crisp mountain air carries the echoes of children's laughter, blending with the rustle of leaves like nature's symphony.

Vihaan halts at the gate, his gaze falling on the modest building framed by endless green and distant peaks. But it isn't the scenery that holds his attention—it's her. Aarna is sunlight breaking through the mist, grounding and untouchable all at once. The subtle embroidery on her dupatta gleaming in the sun.

The spell shatters as a group of children rush toward her, their shrill cries of "Didi! Didi!" filling the air. They cling to her arms, tugging at her bag, eager to share their little tales.

Vihaan leans against the gate, watching her with quiet reverence. Her laughter is soft and easy, like ripples in a still lake, and it pulls at something deep inside him.

"Yeh apiece pati hai, didi?" a girl asks, her voice just loud enough to reach his ears.

(Is he your husband, Didi?)

Aarna's laughter catches in her throat, her eyes widening. "Nahi! He's—"

"—her biggest admirer," Vihaan interjects smoothly, stepping forward. His grin is as disarming as ever, and the children erupt into giggles.

"Vihaan ji!" Aarna hisses, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink.

"Don't worry," he whispers, his tone teasing. "I'll behave. For now."

She shakes her head, muttering something under her breath, but the faint smile on her lips betrays her.

Before long, Vihaan is on the floor with the children, helping them piece together a puzzle. Or rather, pretending to help. "This piece goes... here?" he says, deliberately placing it in the wrong spot.

"No, no, no!" the kids chorus, giggling as they grab the piece and fix his mistake.

Aarna watches from the doorway, her arms crossed, but her heart is a traitor. She tries to focus on her duties, but her gaze keeps drifting back to him—his rolled-up sleeves, his easy laughter, the way the children flock to him as if he's always been a part of their world.

When he catches her watching, he flashes her a wink. She spins away, busying herself with the chalkboard, but the warmth in her chest lingers.

Later, as the children settle into their drawings, Vihaan leans against the window beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. Outside, the world is a masterpiece: sunlight filters through the trees, painting dappled patterns on the ground, while the peaks in the distance stand like silent sentinels.

"You're good with them," she murmurs, her eyes fixed on the view.

"Was that a compliment?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

"Just an observation," she replies, a small smile curving her lips.

Vihaan leans closer, his voice dipping into a whisper. "I like it when you notice things about me."

Her grip tightens on the chalk she's holding. "You shouldn't flirt so much, Vihaan ji."

"Why not?" he asks, tilting his head, his tone feigning innocence. "It seems to be working."

Aarna turns to him then, her eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. "The only reason you're here is because your family insisted. And soon you'll go back to your big world and forget about this small one."

His smile softens, and for a moment, there's something unspoken in his gaze. "That's what you think. That big world isn't even close to this small one."

Her breath hitches, but before she can respond, a child tugs at her dupatta, pulling her attention away. Vihaan steps back, his hands slipping into his pockets as he watches her kneel to help the little boy. She is the calm after a storm, and he wonders if he has the right to disturb her peace.

The day passes in fleeting moments of stolen glances and unspoken words. Every brush of their hands, every shared smile, every quiet laugh feels heavier, charged with something neither of them can name.

By the time they leave the school, the sun is sinking behind the mountains, casting long shadows that stretch across the cobblestone streets. The air is cool now, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth.

"You seemed happy today," Vihaan says, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

"I was," Aarna replies, her tone light. "The kids... they make everything brighter."

He nods, his steps slowing as he chooses his words. "And me? Do I make things brighter for you?"

Aarna stops, her heartbeat stumbling as his words hang in the air. She doesn't meet his gaze. "You? You're more like... a storm."

His laughter is low, warm, like the first drops of rain on dry soil. "A storm, huh? I'll take it."

But as he watches her, her face lit by the golden glow of twilight, he knows he doesn't just want to be her storm. He wants to be her anchor, her sky, her everything.

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Look who it is again!
I really hope you guys enjoy the sunshine and rainbows whilst they last! Xoxo
See you in the next one.
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