Riya

I was hunched over my clay flower, my brush tracing the delicate petals. Abhay sat in front of me, his face illuminated by the faint light coming from the laptop. I looked outside through the glass windows covered by tall house plants, but still, I could see the cloudy sky. The weather was unpredictable these days. I just hoped it wouldn't rain too much, as I didn't want the trains to get canceled.

Amid my introspection, Abhay got up and turned on the lights. The shop was flooded with white lights, and my eyes were blinded for a second. I looked at him with a silent thank you, and he looked at me as if I were stupid.

"You should've asked earlier." He said, sitting down. "I'm used to working in the dark, so it doesn't register in my mind." He added.

"So you make pottery in the dark?" I asked.

He didn't look up from whatever he was doing. "Yes."

So, the back room was his cave.

The word 'cave' comes from the Latin cavus, which means 'hollow' or 'vaulted.' It always makes me think of how humans used to live in caves, hiding from the dangers outside. Humans were interesting. Seeking out light when there was none back in the day. Now, they reveled in the darkness and created a 'cave' in their mind.

He looked up, "Don't think too much. Not everything is 'poetic', Some people do things just because they can."

"I...I wasn't thinking anything."

"You had that look."

"What look?" He didn't reply, and I knew I wasn't going to get my answer. Or maybe I didn't want to know.

I went back to my clay flower and dipped my brush in the paint.

"Why are you painting it like that?" Veer's voice broke my concentration, his head tilting to one side as he studied my work.

"Like what?" I asked, my concentration captured by the younger Raichand sibling.

"So...slowly," he said, drawing the word out dramatically. "At my painting class, my teacher says you shouldn't think too much, or you'll mess it up."

I blinked at his words. "Your teacher probably hasn't spent hours shaping this flower. I'd rather think too much than mess it up."

He frowned, and his small, round eyes somehow became rounder. He was clearly unconvinced. "But if you don't mess it up, how do you learn?"

I paused, the brush hovering over the flower. His innocent question struck more than I cared to admit. "Fair point," I murmured, going back to work. The brothers had a lot more in common.

"Can I try?" He asked, leaning closer.

I held up the flower and eyed him skeptically. "Maybe not on this one. It's...special."

He pouted. "Bhai doesn't let me do anything fun, either." This kid was too cute.

"I won't let you do 'fun stuff' because last time you spilled glitter glue all over my books," Abhay said without looking up from his laptop. His tone was dry, but his lips twitched in amusement.

Veer crossed his arms. "It wasn't that much glue."

"It was enough for me to question why I ever bought it," Abhay replied dryly.

Veer stuck out his tongue. Then he turned to me, "I'm good at painting! Ask my teacher!"

"You take painting classes?" I asked, pretending I didn't know that.

Veer's face lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I can paint trees and houses and even sunsets. Wanna see?"

I smiled. "I'd love to."

"Wait here!" Veer dashed off, his little feet thudding against the floor as he ran to the back room.

I set down my brush and leaned back, stretching my fingers. "How long has been going to his painting classes?"

Abhay's eyes flicked up to meet mine briefly. "A year."

There was something in his tone. It was pride, maybe, or quiet affection. It made my chest tighten. I turned my focus back to the flower, unwilling to dwell on the softness in his voice.

The pittar-patter of rain told me it was raining. I turned to see the world melting outside in the rain. A smile tugged my lips. There was something in the rain. I turned to see Abhay looking at me intently.

My eyes widened, and I spoke to ignore the spike in my pulse. "You have a good bond with your brother." I cringed when I realized how it sounded. I hastily added, "I mean, big age gap and all."

A small smile tugged at his lips, "Feels good coming from you." I was taken aback by the honesty in his voice. "Unlike you, I...don't know how to be a good elder brother."

He continued, "I was fifteen when he was born. I...didn't take it well." It wasn't lost on me that he had just shared something personal. Too personal.

"It was tough for me too, with Aarush. We have a gap of six years. So, most of the time, I struggle to get through him."

"Bhai, I can not find my bag." A panicked Veer shouted.

"On the cupboard," Abhay shouted back.

"Found it!" We heard an excited Veer.

I looked at Abhay with a smile, "I think you're doing a good job."

His lips tugged a bit upwards, not fully turning into a smile. Maybe he didn't believe me. I hoped he would someday. Because he was.

Veer's small, excited steps echoed on the floor, and he stopped in front of me, his eyes shining. I picked up a painting of a bright orange sunset with streaks of red and purple from the bunch he was carrying. The colors were uneven, and the strokes were clumsy, but there was an undeniable energy to it. 

"This is beautiful," I said, genuinely impressed. "You're really good with colors."

Veer beamed, puffing out his chest. "I told you! My teacher says I'm the best in class."

"Modest, too," Abhay muttered. I gave him a side-eye. Like he was the one to talk. It earned me a raised eyebrow from him.

Veer tugged on my sleeve. "Will you paint something with me? Like a big tree or a flower?"

I hesitated, glancing at my clay flower. "I don't know, Veer. I should finish this–"

"Please?" he pleaded, his wide eyes almost comically effective. How did people say no to kids?

I sighed, already caving. "Fine. But only for a little while."

Grinning, he grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and pulled out a box of paints from under the table. "Okay! You do the tree, and I'll do the sky!"

As we worked side by side, I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn't expected. I hadn't expected this day to be this...peaceful. Veer chattered nonstop about his painting class, his favorite colors, and his dream of one day painting a mural on the walls of their house. Just like me.

"Bhai says no," Veer grumbled, glaring at Abhay, who was still typing away on his laptop. "He thinks it'll be messy."

"It will be messy," Abhay said without looking up.

"Messy isn't bad," I chimed in. "Sometimes messy is what makes it interesting."

Veer nodded vigorously. "Exactly!"

I glanced at Abhay, catching the faintest twitch of his lips before he masked it.

"You know, I painted my best friend's roof." I looked at Veer. "Let me show you."

I picked up my phone from the table and scrolled to find the picture. Veer peeked in to see me scrolling.

"Ah! Found it." I said as Veer's eyes widened.

"Wow! Did you make this? You're super amazing, like my teacher." He said, all impressed. I was getting pretty intrigued about this teacher now.

Abhay rose from his seat as I continued scrolling, showing Veer my murals. My fingers stilled when I felt his presence behind me. His left hand rested lightly on the back of my chair, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned in, his gaze lowering to the screen. The familiar woodsy smell. When did it become familiar? It wrapped around me, and my thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. I tried to focus, but his proximity muddled my mind. His fingers brushed against mine as he gently scrolled, his touch sending a jolt through me, before landing on the starry night painting I had created on Siya's ceiling.

"This is so cool, na?" Veer looked at his brother, who hummed in return.

My mind went into panic mode. Too close.

"Would you help me paint my room?" Veer asked excitedly, and I tried focusing on him.

What?

"Umm...I...I don't think that's a good idea." I said, trying to form a coherent sentence.

Abhay straightened up, and Veer looked at me with sad eyes.

"Why?" Veer asked, his lips turned downwards like a cartoon character.

Oh, I don't know. Probably because your brother is going to hate me going to your house.

I tried thinking of a genuine reason. "You live too far, Veer. It will be difficult for me to travel that far. And murals take too long. Maybe we can ask your teacher." His face fell more, and my heart broke a bit.

"Bhai has a car." Veer's eyes brightened, and he looked at Abhay, who hadn't spoken till now. "You can drop her home," Veer added.

"Veer, don't be stubborn," Abhay said, going back to his place. The sternness in his voice made Veer's shoulder drop.

He looked at me with his round eyes. I knew saying yes was going to make things more complicated. I could not afford to do that. This place had the power to make me do stupid thinking. Or maybe it was the person who haunted this shop with his brooding eyes. The thought struck me.

"Please," Veer asked with his hopeful eyes. "It's for mom's birthday."

How do you say no to that?

"Okay," I said. His eyes widened in surprise. "If your brother agrees." I wasn't sure they would want my mural on their walls. An adult's permission was needed here. And the weight of the rejection wouldn't be on me.

"Really?" I nodded and smiled at his joy. He looked at his brother expectantly.

Abhay looked up from his work, "Sure."

My eyes widened. "Shouldn't you ask your mother?"

He looked taken aback at my words. Did I say something wrong?

"It's a surprise," Veer exclaimed and looked at us disappointed as if we were stupid people. Ouch.

"You got your answer," Abhay replied.

The weight of my decision slowly downed on me. It was an opportunity to get into his world. A world that made him who he was. I was intrigued. I wanted to know. I wanted to know all of it.

How easily I thought it would be the last time. I couldn't ignore the existence of a thread that pulled me towards him and his world. I looked at him to find him looking at me.

He stretched his hand across the table, "your phone."

My brows furrowed at his demand. "Not going to snoop around." He rolled his eyes.

I put my phone in his hand, making sure to not touch his palms. He typed away something, and his phone rang.

Oh!

He gave my phone back, looking into my eyes, "I'll pick you up next Sunday." Then went back to his work as if it was the most normal thing. As if he didn't just agree to let me in his world. Even after we had said the most hurtful things to each other and poked at each other's wounds.

"We'll paint something cool. No. Mom likes flowers." Veer's chatter captured my attention back.

There was a little drizzle when I stepped outside the studio after three hours. The smell of wet earth permeated the air. The cold sent shivers down my spine, and I opened my umbrella.

I turned back to see Abhay carrying a sleepy Veer out of the shop, and my heart skipped a beat. Sameer was back in the shop, so Abhay was taking Veer home.

He came outside with his umbrella in his left hand.

"Do you need help opening it?" I asked, pointing at his umbrella. He gave me the black umbrella, and I opened it for them. "You sure you guys don't need a raincoat?"

"Don't worry, little miss savior. My house is just five minutes away. He'll be fine." He said in his husky voice.

"Stop calling me that."

"Never." Then, he promptly walked to the right, and I stepped to the left.

I walked a bit, then turned to see Veer had woken up. He said something as Abhay lightly tapped his head, and he went back to sleep on his shoulder while the rain danced around them.

After a long time, I had the urge to paint. 

I pulled my phone out and texted in my group with the girls. 

I think I like him.

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