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Ishika's pov

It's a lazy Sunday evening, I snuggle into the warmth of the comforter, it has started getting chiller.

Winter is knocking at the door, and though I love the cozy vibes, I can't seem to focus anymore.

My IR notes lie on the bed table, and the words blur together as I try to read the same paragraph for the fifth time. It's not working. My brain feels fried.

I glance up from my notes, shifting slightly under the comforter.

Abhiraj is sitting on the couch, his laptop on his knees, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard.

His jaw is set in that same focused expression he always wears when he's working.

Even from here, I can tell he's lost in his own world, like nothing else exists. And as far as I remember it's a Sunday. Still he is working. What kind of a workaholic he is... it's boring!!

I scrunch my face and slump back against the headboard. I've been studying for hours, trying to remember as much as I can about international relations, but my brain has had enough.

I need a break.

The silence in the room is even more visible without Ivaan around.

He's out with Arjun, and though I'm grateful for the quiet, I'm starting to feel a little restless.

I flip my notebook over and grab a pen, doodling mindlessly on the last page. Curved lines turning into spirals, spirals into flowers, and flowers into something unrecognizable.

My eyes drift back to Abhiraj. I pout.

He's still typing away. His stoic, unbothered demeanor irks me sometimes like now, when I'm bored out of my mind, and he seems perfectly content in his work.

"Abhiraj," I call out, my voice breaking the stillness.

He doesn't look up.

"Hmm?"

I pause, twirling the pen between my fingers.

"Are you on Insta?" I ask without giving myself a thought.

The tapping of his keyboard halts for a second before resuming at the same steady pace.

"No," he says curtly, his tone firm, almost like he's scolding me.

"Study," he adds without looking at me.

I groan, throwing my head back against the headboard.

"I was studying," I mumble to myself.

Clearly, he's not interested in entertaining me right now.

I look back at my notes, but I can't bring myself to study.

The room is too quiet, too still, and my thoughts keep wandering.

I can't stay like this, not alone with my thoughts creeping in like an unwelcome guest.

I look at him again.

Hesitantly, I call him again.

"Abhiraj..."

This time, his fingers pause mid-type.

"Hmm?"

"Look up here," I say, my voice soft but insistent almost pleading.

He sighs though it's barely audible, but I catch it and finally he lifts his gaze from the screen.

His ocean green eyes meet mine, and I feel a strange flutter in my chest again. Shhh, no work of yours, calm down.

"I want a break," I mumble, biting my lip as soon as the words leave my mouth.

"A break?" His brow arches slightly.

I nod, fidgeting with the edge of the comforter.

"Yeah... I've been studying all day. My brain is absorbing nothing. Can we... I don't know, maybe watch a movie or do something else?"

He leans back against the couch, his laptop still on his lap but his attention now on me.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything, just studies me with that quiet intensity of his.

I keep fidgeting with the comforter, a little nervously.

"A movie?" he repeats, his tone calm.

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but the truth is I feel hesitant and nervous asking this of him.

We're still finding our way as a couple, and things feel like walking on thin ice.

No matter what we were the day before.

"Yeah, a movie. Or a show. Or anything just not me staring at my notes," I say, desperation creeping into my voice.

He doesn't answer right away, and for a second, I think he's going to say no.

But then he closes his laptop, setting it aside on the coffee table.

The sound of the lid clicking shut feels like a small victory. Atleast I can enjoy for sometime. I grin mentally.

"Alright," he says, his tone still firm.

"What do you want to watch?"

I blink at him. Did he agree so easily?

"Really?"

He nods, standing and stretching slightly. His movements are unhurried, deliberate, just like everything he does.

I sit up straighter, my mood lifting instantly.

"Okay, uh... let's watch something light. Nothing too serious. Maybe a rom-com?"

But what if the scenes get too intense, "Or horror?" I immediately correct myself.

He gives me a look, one that says none of it are my thing but he doesn't argue.

Instead, he walks over to the bed, closes my notes and put them along with the bed table back to its place. And gets into the bed beside me covering himself with the comforter.

"You pick," he says simply, handing me the remote.

I give him a big smile and excitedly grab the remote.

I scroll through the Netflix, aware of how close we're sitting now. I can feel the warmth radiating from him, even through the layers of fabric separating us. It's... nice. Warm.

After a few minutes of scrolling, I settle on a horror movie. My go to option whenever I watch it with someone. The Conjuring it is.

Abhiraj's pov

The room is dim, on Ishika's insistence, lit only by the flickering light of the screen.

She is sitting beside me on the bed, the comforter wrapped tightly around her covering her up till her neck. Her eyes are glued to the screen, the opening credits of 'The Conjuring', rolling up.

"You sure about this?" I ask, leaning back against the headboard.

She glances at me, her eyes filled with excitement.

"Absolutely. I love horror movies."

I don't press further, but I know how this will go. She loves the idea of horror; the adrenaline rush it brings but she gets scared easily.

I've seen her flinch at shadows in the hallway.

I don't know about the movie but I'm defiantly going to enjoy watching her reaction.

The movie begins, and the tension builds.

A creak of a door, the ominous hum of the scary soundtrack, it's predictable but effective.

I'm aware of Ishika beside me, her shoulders stiffening under the comforter. She pulls it higher, almost covering her neck, her grip on the fabric tightening with every unsettling sound.

The first jump scare comes, sudden and loud.

Ishika yelps softly, her body jerking, and before I realize it, she grabs my arm, clutching it against her chest.

Her fingers dig into my skin, and she leans closer, her head brushing against my forearms.

I glance down at her, amused.

Her eyes are wide, but there's a small smile tugging at her lips. She's scared, no doubt, but she's enjoying herself. I smile and shake my head.

"Scared already?" I murmur, my voice low.

She peeks up at me, she's thrilled despite her obvious fear.

"No! That just caught me off guard."

I huff a quiet laugh, but I don't pull my arm away.

If anything, I shift slightly to make her more comfortable.

She clings to me like I'm her stuffed teddy bear, and for unknown reasons, I don't mind.

The scares start coming faster now, doors slamming, shadows darting across the screen.

Ishika reacts to each one, sometimes with a startled laugh, sometimes by burying her face against my side.

At one particularly intense moment, she ducks lower, pressing her head into my lap and covers her face with the comforter.

I freeze, my body going rigid at the unexpected proximity. Her warmth seeps through the fabric of my pants, and I'm suddenly hyper-aware of her every movement, the way her face is pressing against my thigh, the faint tremble of her shoulders as she laughs nervously.

"You alright down there?" I ask, keeping my voice steady.

She glances up at me, her eyes sparkling with a mix of fear and amusement.

"This is insane," she says, laughing softly. "I don't know why I do this to myself."

I shake my head, unable to suppress a small smile. "You're impossible."

The movie continues, and Ishika doesn't move far from where she is, her head resting on my lap.

I try ignoring the tingles in my body.

At one point, another jump scare has her clutching my hand, pulling it close to her chest without hesitation.

I feel her heartbeat against my palm, rapid but steady, and I wonder if she even realizes what she's doing, how close she is to me.

I don't pull away. Instead, I let my hand rest there, keeping my focus on her rather than the movie.

Every time she laughs, it draws my attention more than anything on the screen.

Her laughter comes more frequently now, a mix of nervousness and amusement.

"Why do they always go into the creepy basement?" she mutters at one point, half-hiding her face again.

"Do they not value their lives?"

"Apparently not," I reply, smirking slightly.

By the time the movie reaches its climax, Ishika is practically curled into me, her legs tucked under her, the comforter wrapped around both of us.

Her head is still on my lap, her hands occasionally clutching at my arm or shirt during the scariest moments.

Till the end of the movie her body is pressed against mine in a way that should be distracting but instead, it feels comforting.

As the credits roll, she finally relaxes, letting out a long breath before sitting up.

"That was amazing," she says, grinning despite the fear that's still evident in her eyes.

I arch an eyebrow. "You spent half the movie hiding."

She laughs, brushing her hair out of her face. "That's part of the fun!"

I can't help but shake my head.

She sprawls on the bed stretching herself.

She has started becoming comfortable around me.

"Thanks for letting me watch that," she says softly, meeting my gaze. "Even though you were busy."

I nod slightly, leaning back against the headboard.

"You enjoyed it. That's what matters."

She smiles, her expression warm.

I shift slightly, glancing down at Ishika, who's still half-wrapped in the comforter. She looks pleased, a small smile playing on her lips as she stretches lazily.

It's strange, few moments ago she screaming and terrified and she looks content, like the fear is just a part of the thrill for her.

I should get back to work now. Neil had emailed me a document earlier, one that needs revisions before tomorrow morning.

Carefully, I slide to the edge of the bed. The comforter falls away, and Ishika's smile disappears in an instant.

She frowns, her eyes following my movements.

"Where are you going?" she asks, her tone laced with a hint of complaint.

I glance at her over my shoulder. "I need to finish the document Neil sent me," I say, keeping my tone even.

Her expression shifts, the frown softening into something else, disappointment, maybe?

She hesitates for a moment before giving me a small, uncertain smile.

"Oh," she says quietly, her hands fiddling with the edge of the comforter.

"Okay... I get it. Work."

There's something about the way she says it, so softly, that it makes me pause.

I stand but don't move toward my laptop.

"I'll leave the light on," I offer, though I'm not sure why I feel the need to reassure her.

She shakes her head quickly, her smile faltering. "It's not that. I just... I'll get scared alone, that's all."

The words are hesitant, as if she didn't want to admit it. Her gaze drops to the blanket, embarrassed to have said it.

Something stirs in me, a faint tug of protectiveness I can't seem to ignore.

She's not asking outright, but it's clear she doesn't want me to leave.

The realization surprises me more than it should.

"Ishika," I say, my voice quieter now.

She looks up at me, her expression is unreadable but still holding onto that faint smile.

"It's fine," she says quickly, as if trying to backtrack. "I'll be okay. Really."

But I know she won't be, not entirely. She easily gets scared.I can't bring myself to leave her to it.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair before sitting back down on the bed.

"I'll finish it later," I say, as much to myself as to her.

Her eyes light up, relief washing over her face.

"Really?"

"Really," I reply, settling back against the headboard.

She grins, "Thank you."

I glance at the comforter she's still clinging to, her nervousness slowly slipping away.

I don't know what's happening between us.

What's happening to me?

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The weather changes abruptly around eleven.

The wind howls through the cracks of the windows, shaking the glass with startling force.

A fine drizzle begins tapping against the panes, softly, before turning into a full-blown storm.

My phone buzzes. It's Arjun.

"Hey," I answer, glancing at Ishika, who's sitting cross-legged on the bed, still bundled in the comforter from earlier.

"Bhai," Arjun says, his voice slightly muffled, likely by the wind on his end.

"The weather's pretty bad here. I think I'll keep Ivaan with me tonight. It's not safe to drive back in this storm."

I frown but nod instinctively, even though he can't see me.

"Alright. Look after him properly. And yourself."

"We will," he assures me.

"You two stay safe, too."

I end the call and inform the same to Ishika. She doesn't say much, just nods.

Not long after, the power goes out.

Ishika looks at me, startled, her face illuminated faintly by the light of her phone.

"What just happened?"

"I don't know," I reply, already dialing the security.

They inform it's a fault in the fuse, and it would take some time to fix.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

The storm, coupled with the outage, definitely not the best situation, but there's not much to be done about it.

I find some candles and light them, placing them around the room.

The candlelight casts soft shadows on the walls. I sit back against the headboard, the comforter pulled loosely over my legs, and glance at Ishika.

She's curled up beside me, the corner of the comforter clutched loosely in her hand. She's looking at the candel, lost.

The storm outside is relentless now. The wind howls as if it's alive, and the rain pelts against the windows. It feels like we're in a bubble, sealed off from the rest of the world.

There's silence around us.

"What were you like as a kid?" I ask, my voice breaking the stillness.

She turns to me, her brows lifting slightly as if the question catches her off guard. "What?"

"As a kid," I repeat, leaning back further.

"What were you like?"

She hesitates, her lips curving into a small, contemplative smile.

"With my cousins? Loud," she says, her tone warm.

"I was always up to something teasing, playing, making a mess. Never quiet, not for a second."

I nod, trying to picture her like that. It's surprising how easily I'm able to imagine a younger, mischievous version of her.

You've read her diary idiot, saw her younger self. Ofcourse you'll.

"But at school..." Her voice softens, and her gaze drifts to the candle flame.

"I was quiet. Too quiet, maybe."

I glance at her, my brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop myself.

She sighs, her shoulders shifting under the comforter. "When my school changed," she begins slowly, "everything felt... different. The kids already had their groups.

I joined the school in mid session. They weren't exactly unfriendly, but they weren't keen on including the 'new girl' either."

She pauses, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the fabric of the comforter.

"I tried at first," she continues.

"I'd smile, try to start conversations, but I didn't know the best way to make them like me. And when it didn't work, I just... gave up. It felt easier to keep to myself than to keep trying and failing. I was just a 6 year old kid."

I watch her carefully, her expression stays neutral but she sounded disappointed.

"So, you just... stopped?" I ask, my tone quieter now.

She nods, her eyes meeting mine briefly before drifting back to the candle.

"Yeah. I'd sit alone, get through the day, and go home. It was same throughout my school life. But whenever I was with my cousins, it was different. I was happy. "

"It's strange, how different you can be in different places. Like you're not one person, but pieces of several. But you know, in college, everything changed." She says, her voice softens.

Her lips tug into a small smile, her eyes glinting with something akin to nostalgia. I lean in, intrigued.

"Changed how?" I ask.

She laughs, the sound barely audible over the rain drumming against the windows.

"It's hard to explain. I guess, in the beginning, it was just... overwhelming.

New faces, new routines, so much energy everywhere. But after a while, I found myself enjoying it. I started cracking silly jokes, getting loud with my friends. It was new for me."

I smile.

"I mean," she continues, tilting her head slightly, "I still had my moments. College wasn't all sunshine and roses. There were days I'd feel... off, you know? I'd feel lonely, even with people around."

Her voice dips, and I catch the faintest tremor in it.

"Depressed?" I ask carefully, unsure if the word feels too heavy.

She shrugs, her expression unreadable.

"No but close to it. It wasn't anything big just this... I'd feel sad sometimes. But it passed. I got through it."

The way she says it, as if she's brushing it aside makes me wonder how heavy that weight really was. I keep quiet, letting her continue.

"Anyway, once that phase passed, it was like something clicked. I liked me, the happy, laughing Ishika. I was still hesitant to approach people, though. That hasn't changed."

She glances at me then, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"I'll never be the one to start a conversation. Even now, I'll sit in the corner and wait for someone else to say hello first."

"Why do you think that is?" I ask, genuinely curious.

She shrugs again, her gaze shifting to the candlelight.

"I don't know. Maybe it's fear? Or habit? I've never been good at figuring out how to connect with people. It's easier when someone else takes the first step."

Her words hang in the air for a moment, the storm outside seeming to quiet just a little.

"And yet, you're here," I say after a beat, my voice quieter.

She looks at me, her brows knitting slightly in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"With me," I clarify.

"Sitting here, talking about all this. That doesn't sound like someone who hides in the corner."

Her lips part slightly, as if she's about to respond, but no words come out. Instead, she looks down at the comforter, her fingers playing with the edge of it.

"I guess," she murmurs eventually, her tone uncertain.

"What about you?" she asks suddenly, her gaze flicking to mine.

"Quiet," I say simply. "Always the quiet one. Observed, mostly."

Her lips twitch with a small smile. "So, you've always been this serious?"

"Apparently." I smirk faintly, and she laughs.

The storm seems to rages outside, the rain intensifying. Ishika tilts her head back, her eyes closing briefly as if she's listening to it more closely.

"I love this weather," she says after a moment.

"The rain, the cold... everything about it. It feels soo alive. Surreal."

I raise an eyebrow, amused. "Alive?"

She turns to me, her eyes bright even in the dim light.

"Yes! Like the earth is whispering secrets only for the rain to hear. Don't you think it's beautiful?"

"Poetic," I reply, my lips twitching in amusement.

She rolls her eyes, but there's a playful warmth in her expression.

"I'm serious. There's something magical about it. It feels like the world is slowing down, giving you permission to pause."

I glance at the window, the rain drops trickling down the glass. "Never thought about it like that."

She sighs, exasperated but smiling.

"You're missing out, Abhiraj. There's so much peace in it. Doesn't it make you feel anything?"

I shake my head, the corners of my mouth lifting slightly.

"Not really."

She leans back against the headboard, her face thoughtful.

"For me, it's nostalgic. Everything gets blurry it makes me feel... god I can't even express it, that comfort."

I watch her, her eyes glowing and how she's struggles to articulate her feelings.

I've never met someone describing the most ordinary thing in a way that it'll make you yearn for the same.

Her words linger in the air, mingling with the sound of the rain and the flickering candlelight.

I glance at her again, really look at her, and something stirs in me, subtle, but undeniable.

For the first time, I wonder if maybe I've been missing something in the rain all along.

To be continued...

Sooo how was the chapter?

Next update is definitely going to be exciting.

Any suggestions you wanna give, about what you might wanna in the next chapter?

Signing off, but don't forget to 👇