Abhi and Akshara were the definition of relationship goals. While Kundavai and Shubman had their quiet, intense connection, Abhi and Akshara thrived in a different, more energetic way. He was the perfect gentleman—always planning dates, surprising her with flowers, and texting her sweet messages all day long. Every time he smiled at her, it was as if the world around them faded, leaving only the two of them in their little bubble of happiness.

One Friday evening, Abhi showed up at Akshara's door with a wide grin, holding a bouquet of fresh roses. She raised an eyebrow as she opened the door, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Got a surprise for me?" she asked, trying to hide the smile that was creeping up her face.

"You bet I do," he replied, his voice full of mischief. "We're going out for dinner and then I've got something special planned."

Akshara raised an eyebrow. "I already know you're up to something. I just have to figure out what it is."

Abhi winked at her, handing over the bouquet. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

She took the flowers, her heart warming at his thoughtfulness, and her curiosity piqued. "Alright, fine. But you better not disappoint me, Sharma."

"Disappoint you?" he laughed. "Not a chance. Come on, let's go."

That evening, they ended up at an outdoor cafe, surrounded by twinkling lights. The atmosphere was relaxed and cozy, with soft music playing in the background as the evening breeze gently ruffled Akshara's hair. Abhi had gone all out, and she could see the effort he had put into planning this.

Throughout dinner, he kept making her laugh—whether it was with one of his cheeky remarks or teasing her about something from practice. His energy was contagious, and it wasn't long before she found herself completely immersed in the moment, the food and the atmosphere becoming almost secondary to the way he made her feel.

After dinner, they went for a walk by the beach, the waves crashing softly against the shore. The cool night air was refreshing, and Akshara leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as they strolled.

"You're always surprising me," she said softly, her voice almost inaudible against the sound of the waves.

"That's the plan," Abhi responded, his voice warm and reassuring. "I love seeing you happy, Akshara. I'll do whatever it takes to keep that smile on your face."

She smiled up at him, the words a gentle caress to her heart. "You don't have to do anything, Abhi. Just being you is enough."

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. "I don't think that's enough, though. I want to do more."

The two continued walking, hand in hand, as the evening slipped into night. Abhi's affection for Akshara was clear in every small gesture he made—whether it was holding her hand just a little tighter when they crossed a street or offering her his jacket when she shivered in the breeze. He wasn't just a boyfriend; he was a sweetheart through and through, always thinking of her and making sure she felt special, even in the smallest of ways.

As the night came to an end, he drove her home, not before telling her how beautiful she looked and kissing her goodnight, lingering just a little longer than usual. Akshara, for her part, couldn't help but feel her heart swell with happiness. She never expected a relationship like this from someone like Abhi, but here she was, loving every single moment of it.

It wasn't just about the big romantic gestures—it was about the way he made her feel seen and appreciated, every day. Akshara had never been the type to admit how much she loved affection, but with Abhi, she couldn't help but fall for it—because he made it feel effortless.

As she entered her room, she looked at the bouquet of roses in her hands and smiled, knowing that with Abhi, she was in for a lifetime of sweet surprises.

Maya and Ishan were the type of couple that had no filter when it came to their affection. It wasn't just the casual hand-holding or soft kisses on the cheek that made them inseparable—it was the intensity of their connection, the way they were always in each other's orbit, unable to escape the magnetic pull between them. Their relationship wasn't about grand gestures or public declarations of love; it was the quiet, intimate moments that spoke volumes.

It was almost comical how often they found themselves in each other's arms, whether it was at the practice fields, at a party, or just lying on the couch watching TV. And it wasn't just about the physical affection; they were deeply emotionally connected too. Maya could talk to Ishan for hours, her voice filled with warmth as she shared everything from the simplest gossip to her biggest dreams. Ishan, with his easygoing charm, would listen attentively, smiling at her with that soft, knowing look that made her heart skip a beat.

The past few days had been no exception. They had spent the evening at Maya's apartment, lazily lounging on the couch, both of them tangled in a mess of blankets. Maya, with her head resting on Ishan's chest, was scrolling through her phone, while Ishan absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm with his fingers, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.

"You know," Maya said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I never thought I'd be this content in a relationship."

Ishan looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Why's that?" he asked, his voice soft, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

She shrugged, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Because, well, look at us. We're constantly making out, fighting over the last slice of pizza, and somehow you're still okay with my late-night rants about how the world is ending."

Ishan chuckled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "You're right, we are a bit ridiculous. But that's what makes us fun, right?"

Maya smirked, her eyes sparkling with affection. "You're lucky I love you, otherwise, I'd have kicked you out of my apartment by now."

"I know," he replied, his voice teasing. "You're too soft for that."

Maya rolled her eyes but leaned up to kiss him, her lips finding his in a quick but passionate kiss. As she pulled away, she playfully shoved him, "I should be the one saying that to you. You're the soft one in this relationship."

Ishan raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Is that so? I don't know, Maya. I think you might be the soft one when it comes to me."

Maya's breath caught in her throat as she realized how true that was. Despite her tough exterior, there was something about Ishan that melted her defenses every single time. She let out a soft sigh, her smile turning into something more genuine. "I guess you're right," she admitted, her fingers brushing through his hair as she snuggled closer to him.

"Good," Ishan said, his lips curling into a lazy grin. "But I have to admit, I like being the one you're soft with."

Maya laughed, wrapping her arms around him. "I think I like it too," she murmured, her voice tinged with affection.

They spent the next hour in a comfortable silence, the kind that only came when you were completely at ease with someone. Maya was content to rest in his arms, and Ishan was happy to have her there, knowing that whatever life threw their way, they'd face it together. They were more than just the passionate kisses and late-night texts; they were two people who truly understood each other, who were secure in the love they shared.

It wasn't about the flashy declarations or big promises—it was about the quiet, everyday moments where their love grew stronger and deeper. And as Ishan held her close, he couldn't help but think that he was exactly where he wanted to be, with the girl he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with.

But Maya wasn't done teasing him yet. She leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before whispering, "You're lucky I'm not kicking you out tonight."

Ishan's smile widened, his heart swelling with affection. "Oh, I know," he said, his voice full of confidence. "But I think you secretly like having me around."

Maya smirked, resting her head back on his chest. "You're right. I do. But I'm not telling you that just yet."

Ishan chuckled softly, knowing that no matter how much they joked, the truth was clear. They were in this together, in every messy, passionate, and tender moment they shared.

And for them, that was more than enough.

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden glow across the sky, as Kundavai stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from her shower. Her hair was damp, cascading in messy waves down her back, droplets of water occasionally trickling down her neck. She wrapped herself in a cozy, oversized sweater, the early morning chill nipping at her skin, and made her way to the balcony of her room.

The world outside was still waking up, the morning dew sparkling on the grass below, and the faint sounds of birds chirping filled the air. Kundavai leaned against the railing, closing her eyes for a moment as she let the cool breeze wash over her. The scent of wet earth and fresh jasmine hung in the air, a quiet reminder of home.

As she opened her eyes, her gaze drifted to the balcony right across from hers, where, of course, Shubman was already standing. He had a cup of chai in his hand, steam rising from the cup in delicate spirals. His hair was wet too, like he had just stepped out of the shower, the dark strands clinging to his forehead in a way that made him look annoyingly handsome.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like the world around them faded away. There was an unspoken connection between them, a silent conversation that needed no words. Kundavai couldn't help but smile softly, a small, involuntary curve of her lips.

Shubman mirrored her smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took a slow sip of his chai, never breaking eye contact. There was something strangely intimate about the moment, like they were the only two people awake in the entire world, sharing a secret morning ritual.

Kundavai tilted her head slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder, and Shubman's gaze flickered to the way her wet strands framed her face. His smile widened, that same cocky, yet endearing grin that always got under her skin.

She rolled her eyes playfully, but her cheeks warmed under his gaze. Shubman chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, audible even across the distance between their balconies. He lifted his cup in a silent toast, and Kundavai, without thinking, mimicked the gesture with her empty hands, pretending to hold an invisible cup.

He raised an eyebrow, amused, and mouthed, "Want some?"

Kundavai stuck out her tongue, scrunching her nose in mock disgust. "You know I'm a chai purist. Yours probably has way too much sugar."

Shubman feigned offense, clutching his heart dramatically. "You wound me, Captain. My chai is perfection, just like everything else about me."

She laughed, a sound that was light and airy, carried away by the morning breeze. And just like that, the distance between them felt like nothing. They were in their own little world, teasing and smiling, with the warmth of their shared banter making everything else fade away.

Kundavai shifted her weight, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and Shubman's eyes softened, something tender and unspoken passing between them. For a second, it seemed like time had stopped. Her smile faltered, her heart skipping a beat, but before she could get lost in the feeling, she shook her head and turned away, letting the curtain of wet hair shield her face.

But she didn't miss the way he watched her, the way his gaze lingered as if he was memorizing the moment.

"Enjoy your sugary chai," she called over her shoulder, not daring to look back.

He chuckled, the sound following her as she stepped back into her room. "You know you love it, Kundu."

She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as she closed the balcony door behind her. There was something about Shubman—his confidence, his playfulness, the way he could make her heart race with just a look.

But she wasn't going to admit that to him. Not yet, at least.