As you organized the last of your clothes in the wardrobe, you let out a sigh, knowing you can rest peacefully.

"Finally," you said to yourself, walking a few steps behind and falling back on the hotel bed.

You closed your eyes and could already feel sleep waving its fingers at you, ready to take you away when the doorbell rang.

Groaning slightly, you got off the bed, mumbling that you and sleep were star-crossed lovers as you opened the door.

"Waiting for me?" Shubman grinned and you didn't roll your eyes only because you didn't have the energy.

"You wish," you replied while letting him enter and closed the door. "Back from practice already?"

He shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed when you did the same. "I just thought I'd check up on you since I couldn't receive you. How was your flight?"

"It was fine," you answered. "They gave me chocolate chip cookies, so there it is."

And Koel is not with you.

You told her she can have time off until the INDvBAN test is over. Plus, a bonus in this month's paycheck.

Shubamn nodded, humming a little in response as you fell back on the bed again, closing your eyes.

"So you grew up here?" He remembered what he read in the fact sheet given to him months back.

"Born and brought up," you replied without opening your eyes, patting the space beside you.

You got into a college in Mumbai. That's why you moved.

Bachelor of visual arts, traditional sculpture and temple architecture. Three-year course, and you did finish it.

Shubman let himself rest a good amount of distance away from you, looking at you as he spoke.

"So what got you into singing?" He laid on his side, keeping his voice low since it was now visible that you were tired.

You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling as you thought for a while.

"Heard about my father?" You turned your head to the side. You spoke about him in an interview a couple of years back.

"I have," he replied, keeping his voice soft so that it didn't feel like someone was shouting into your ears.

At that point, every single noise sounded like that to you.

"I think I was maybe five or something," you turned your head away again. "One morning, he was just not there."

Your mind went back to that morning.

It was a Sunday.

Which meant no school, and you could wake up whenever you wanted to.

And you did wake up late, to your maternal grandparents who live a retired life in Bangalore, neighbors gathered in the living room and talking amongst themselves.

A few that gave you a look of pity, others saying that 'he was never really into the marriage.'

And your desolate mother, sitting there like the crystalline crust of a dead star's core, but is considered to be the strongest material in the universe.

"I really didn't understand then," you raised a hand up in the air, feeling like you were tracing the gap between you and the ceiling. "Initially, I'd cry at night, asking for him."

You lowered your hand again, and Shubman's eyes followed each movement carefully.

"Amma would sing me to sleep," you turned a little so that you were lying on your side too. "And I started missing him less and less."

To this day, you don't. You still don't understand why he left the way he did, and another neighbor was missing, you all noticed.

When you think about it now, you feel pity for him. Guy had the entire universe with him and stepped away from it.

"Really, he didn't deserve my mother," you said in your normal tone, facing Shubman.

"He didn't," he repeated in accord and you noticed the absence of an undercut.

With an involuntary hand raised up, you ran your fingers through his right-now-fluffy hair.

"How're you feeling about the test?" Your voice was accompanied by the soft whirring of the air conditioner and evening sun outside.

"The first innings?" He asked in a low tone and you hummed shortly in response.

You held your breath as Shubman's fingers did the same with your hair.

And you imagined doing something impulsive, tempting.

Closing your eyes, you tried to get rid of that thought from your mind.

But when you open your eyes and he's still looking at you like he's thinking the same, the thought reasserts itself back in your mind.

You blinked once and he leaned forward first.

Your hand that was in Shubman's hair, fell down to his cheek.

Keeping your eyes open, you felt a familiar kiss on your forehead. Like he does on 'dates' for someone to see you both.

Except it was a little different now.

There was no one else to see.

"Tomorrow," he started and pulled back to look into your eyes. "Blow me a kiss when I hit a century."

And then he left the room silently, leaving you sleepy and wondering what the heaven just happened.