-• creep at the first sight •-

I wake up at three am in the morning. That's what the table-side clock says. Rubbing a hand all across my face, I bend forward tiredly, my body enjoying the stretch. The night is dark, but as I glance outside the window, the city is still awake. Throwing off the comforter from my body, I get down the bed and wear the slippers.

I don't think I'm going back to sleep again. My body is still not wired to fit this time zone and change in places often disrupts my sleeping schedule. Whatever time's left for the dawn to break through the cold night, I decide to use it to unpack my bags.

I unload it on my bed and open the wardrobe, putting my clothes one by one inside, and arranging them as per the categories. Midst of it I realise I left my purse in the living room.

I remember dropping it on the coffee table when I tried to dissipate the growing argument between my brothers. Leaving my leftover unpacked stuff on the bed, I exit the room.

That's when I see him.

In the gallery.

Standing in the cold, without a sweater or a hoodie. A wisp of smoke clouding him, potentially warm, and certainly toxic. He looks nothing less than a shadow, the moonlight casts a dim light, making his silhouette glow, like an eclipse of the sun.

Anagha was right.

He's such an ethereal creation of nature.

I walk up to the gallery and lean against the open end. "Shourya?"

He stiffens for a split second, then slowly turns around.

I chuckle seeing the cup of noodles in his left hand, the other holding the chopsticks . "I thought you were smoking."

He stops chewing and swallows the food. "I'm not a fan of nicotine. This tastes much better anyway." He shrugs.

I nod with a smile. "May I join?" I point to the gallery.

"Are you taking a revenge because I spoiled your food at the pool?" He narrows his eyes.

I roll mine. "You still owe me for that. But right now, I was referring to just spending some time here. I woke up a few minutes ago and failed to go back to sleep." I omit the piece of information where I was unpacking my belongings. He doesn't need to know that.

"Yeah, well, you're welcome." He nods and turns back around to face the city.

I slide the doors close and walk in, stopping beside him, a good few inches seperating us. I lean in slightly and look down, watching in fascination how small everything appears from so much height.

"Aren't you cold?" I gently tuck my hair back as they float in the air.

"I was initially. Then I started to eat." He stirs the remaining noodles in the cup, then twirls them around the chopsticks and shoves the huge bite in his mouth.

"Is it tasty?" I ask hesitantly. It looks tasty.

He sighs. "If you're hungry just say it."

"I'm not!" I defend myself. "I'm just curious."

"Here, have it." He forwards the cup.

"Shut up." I push it away. "I'm not hungry. Geez, one can't even be curious." I lie. My mouth definitely salivated watching him eat but I'm not so heartless to snatch his first and last meal of the day. "Are you excited?"

"For a trip I wasn't told about, prepared for, and shoved in unexpectedly, with the people who don't like me around?" He asks rhetorically. "Should I lie?"

"You could have said no." I deadpan.

"I didn't know I had an option." He frowns at me. "Where were you when I was told to climb the jet?"

"Right in front of you, actually." I giggle. "But seriously, if you tone down that sarcasm just a bit, I can be a great host." I suggest softly.

"I didn't know I was being sarcastic when I was speaking the truth." He looks down at the cup, shakes it just a little and tilts the rim to his mouth, swallowing the leftover soup. I watch his Adam's apple bob and have to force my eyes to look ahead.

My gaze drifts down to stare at the world that appears tiny and strangely, even insignificant from this height. "Do you think someone would recognise us if they look up?" I ask softly.

He follows my gaze and clicks his tongue.

I chuckle. "When in the lobby we were treated as someone very important, I felt like I was born to be acknowledged and seen, even if I stand in the crowd. But as I look down right now, these people would just glance up and walk by, not even giving me a time of their day. Strange, isn't it?" I smile up at him.

He watches me intensely. "What is?"

"To be absolutely insignificant when you compare yourself with something that is magnanimous and bigger than you." I murmur.

"You're bigger than them. I mean, you were born on the heights that makes people look up at you and be envious of where you stand."

"Not if they can't see me, don't know me." I reply. "I only matter as long as I've a name, a status, an identity."

His face grows sombre and I bite my tongue. Did I offend him somehow? "Are you okay?" I lean in worriedly. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, go on, it's fascinating."

"What is?" I whisper.

His light brown eyes bore into mine. "Listening to you."

My breath hitches. "You've got me all awkward now," I force out a chuckle to get rid of the thick tension brewing in the air. The temperature is below ten but I suddenly feel flushed and hot.

"And what if it's someone else standing as you at that heights?"

"Does my existence even matter then? And does their existence have any value? To be standing as someone else, when you're someone else, only because you covet a height, that was never made for you?"

"So it's meaningless? For both of them?" He whispers.

"If you've to prove the world of you being you, then yes, it's meaningless." I nod. "I'd like to live as me, even if I'm one in the crowd. I'd like to be noticed for what I am, for what I grew to become and not for who I was born as. Yes, it's amazing to live as Princess Taranya Singh Chauhan, but I don't want to make my title and my name my point of existence. I want to make myself something, someone, I can be proud of." I sigh softly. "As long as I'm someone to these people, they'll talk to me for whatever connection they feel towards me." I jut my chin ahead.

"Connection?"

I hum. "Like the Secretary must have felt. A connection of greed, or obligation towards his duty. Why else would he try so hard to impress a bunch of teenagers?" I smile at him. "Like you feel towards me, connection of annoyance."

"That's not true." He shakes his head.

I look at him in evident surprise. "Is that why you insult me every now and then?"

"I never insulted you."

"You called me dumb."

He puts the empty cup and chopsticks on the banister and turns to face me. "I'd never use such crude language to describe a woman's lack of intellect."

My jaw drops. "Sugarcoating doesn't make it better!"

"But it makes it civil."

"I can't believe you." I shake my head in disbelief. "What did I even do to you? In fact, it should be me insulting you every chance I get. Do you even remember what a huge creep you were when we first met?"

"I don't recall any such thing."

"Of course you don't, you 'conveniently' lost your memory after the accident." I remark.

"Why did you air quote the word convenient?" He copies me.

"Why did it trigger you?" I counter.

"You're calling me a liar."

"You're interpreting it as such." I shrug.

"I'm not. You implying it."

"I didn't. I wouldn't know. I can't go inside your head and check for myself, can I? I'm free to speculate."

"As I am, and I think, it's you. The connection of annoyance you spoke of? It's from you." He points at me.

I scoff out a chuckle. "You literally started it!"

"I've seen you arguing with Arush often, but he doesn't annoy you, does he?"

"He's my brother."

"Uh huh, that's not it." He shakes his head. "You hate losing in an argument. And you always lose against me."

I roll my eyes. "You've a very high opinion of yourself."

"You rolled your eyes."

"And?" I grit out.

"Isn't that what people do when they're annoyed?" He leans in slightly and that's when I notice the lack of space between us. My breath shallows, lungs expand and contract to their limit, and my body embraces the heat emanating from his larger one. If he moves another inch forward, I'd be swallowed in his arms, either snug or crushed, and I'm not looking forward to any of the possibilities.

"Good night, Shourya." I step back and walk up to the doors.

"Taranya," he calls out and I look over my shoulder. "You lost again." His lips lift in a smirk.

I feel my stomach drop at the sight of him standing so celestially gorgeous against the backdrop of the cascading moonlight. It compliments him, his presence, and looks like it's already mourning the possibility of his absence by slowly fading against the break of the dawn.

The reality of him switches with the memory of Rudra and I freeze. I was doing so much better not thinking about him. And yet, everytime I look at Shourya, Rudra automatically pops up in the back of my mind. As though the two coexist in one body.

I shake my head.

What the hell, Tara?

"Taranya?" Shourya takes a step in my direction.

I flinch and look up at him. "So- Sorry, I was thinking about something. Good night. You should catch some sleep. And wear something warm. You'll catch cold. Excuse me." I turn around and head back to my room.

I close the door to my room and turn around, flattening my spine against the frame as I stop to take a breather. I've to have my head in the deepest of dungeons to even draw any kind of similarity between Rudra and Shourya.

Both are different.

Shourya is real.

Rudra is not.

Shourya has a past.

Rudra might never have a future.

Shourya exists for the world, Rudra's existence in itself is a question.

Shourya doesn't need to become Rudra, and Rudra, even if he wants to, can never become Shourya.

The only similarity they have is me, in their lives, pathetically losing everytime. Lost my wit to one, and heart to another.

I stand straight and rake a hand through my hair, threading my fingers into the tangled locks and hissing as I almost rip at the roots. Releasing my fingers from the vine trap, I look at the mess on my bed.

God bless me. I went out to bring my purse and didn't even bother to look for it. Why am I so easy to distract? Shourya was right. I've always struggled to concentrate.

Walking to my bed, I thrust the remaining stuff back in my suitcase and zip it before putting it on the floor. Slipping under the duvet, I yank it on top of my head, closing my eyes, as if that's gonna help me block the thoughts linked to Rudra.

It's over, Tara.

"It never had a beginning for it to have an end." I mumble to myself.

After this vacation, I'm off to London and I don't know when I'll be returning to India. Maybe in months? Maybe years? And Rudra is not like any other normal eighteen year old. I can't hit him up with a text message when I come back from London. I might not even recognise him if I see him in the crowd without a mask. That's the kind of unfamiliarity we have. I don't even know what he sounds like. I've never heard his voice, never saw below his eyes, never confronted him in the light.

Imagine bringing him up in a conversation with a third person. They'd deem me insane for being so infatuated with an imaginary guy. At least in fiction I'd have control. But in his world, I'm powerless, hopeless and plain stupid to still have hope.

Picking up my phone from the nightstand, I open my old chats with him and scroll through them all the way above until they end with our beginning. I read each text, each response twice, lingering on my favourite parts, automatically smiling like a fool.

Then I realise it was wrong of me to look for him in Shourya. Just because they're almost physically similar doesn't mean I confuse myself and probably him too about my feelings.

I need to give myself some time. I've changed crushes faster than light. I'll get over him if I stop thinking about him. How hard will it be? I got over Sam in less than a week when I changed countries and then over Atharva in a month. My feelings are fleeting and they'll fade away with time.

Wait.

Is me finding Shourya similar to Rudra a sign of rebound?

I need some solid answers.

I switch to the contact logs and search for my bestfriend's name. It's just below Vivaan's. I hit the call button amd place the screen against my ear, sliding down until I'm lying halfway as I wait for her to answer her phone.

She picks up on the third ring. "What?" Her voice comes out muffled.

"Are you eating?"

"Yeah, I'm having dinner." She replies.

"Tara, darling, come have dinner." I hear Aunt Jenna say from the background.

"At least make an offer that's possible, Mom." Janet snorts, making me laugh.

"Put me on speaker," I demand, sitting up straighter out of respect.

"Done," she mumbles.

"Aunt Jenna, how are you!?"

"I'm good, honey! How about you?"

"Absolutely splendid!"

"No greetings for Uncle Garrett, Taranya? I'm disappointed." He clicks his tongue.

Giggling, I answer, "Uncle Garrett, my most favourite uncle in the world, how are you?"

"Ah, I see, you don't have uncles on your father's side of the family either considering I'm still your favourite." He teases.

I feign an offended gasp. "Don't be ridiculous, uncle Garrett. Even if I had a hundred blood related uncles, none can come close to you."

He lets out a boisterous laugh. "I'm fine, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Wonderful!" I grin. "By the way Aunt Jenna, I'm coming to England two weeks later, so make sure you've all my favourite dishes ready. I'll not be compromising."

"I promise you a grand feast, my dear. You just have to come now."

"Watch me turn into flash." I joke, eliciting chuckles from them.

"Alright, I'm done. I'll be up in my room if you need me, mom." I hear Janet say and the sound of chair screeching fills my ear. I pull the phone away slightly, waiting for her to be in the privacy of her room before we can further continue our conversation. "Sup, what is it? Aren't you in my mother's home country, you bitch? Go sleep, it's almost five o clock there."

"What does rebound mean?" I ask ignoring the blabber.

She falls quiet for a while. "When you get into a new relationship as soon as you exit an old one, but the old one has to really mean the world to you, you know? That's when you call it a rebound. Why? When did you get into a relationship? When did the previous one end? Was there a previous relationship I had no idea of? And you're already entering another one? No, wait. Why do you lead such a mess you call life, Tara? Come back, I'll put you in rice. You're broken. I need to fix you."

"So, trying to find similarities in two different men is not a sign of a rebound, right?" I ask, my fingers crossed in hope.

"No, that's a sign of toxic person." She grunts out, flinching me slightly. "Tara, what's going on?"

I lick my dry lips. "I was just talking to Shourya -"

"That creep?"

"Huh?"

"He was the one to propose a marriage alliance between the families in front of his grandfather, right? And his grandfather even considered it? I remember you sounded so creeped out when you told me about him." She reminds me.

I swallow, the next words lodged in my throat like bricks. "I feel he's very similar to Rudra."

"Is that your observation or desperation?"

"Perhaps, both?"

She sighs tiredly. "Tara, what are you even doing? Are boys really that important in life? C'mon, girl, stop this nonsense. You're on a vacation in a country you've always dreamt of going to since I got you into Kdramas, so enjoy your time. What's the fun in chasing boys when you can chase your dreams, your desires, and have a blast?"

"You're right." I whisper. "I'm pathetic."

"You're not. That Rudra guy has just fucked with your head so bad. It's not your fault. But stop letting him control your thoughts."

I hum softly.

"Do you miss him?"

I force out a chuckle, to mock the words, because I know they are real. But I deny. "What nonsense."

"You do."

"I just hate that I let it happen. I could have resisted it, could have stopped myself, but no, I'm an idiot. I didn't want to regret not taking the chance, and now I regret taking it."

"It's okay. That happens. It's human tendency."

"I should keep my distance from Shourya. He's messing with my head now that there's no possibility of me meeting Rudra ever again."

"He's there on the trip with you, right?"

"Yeah," I murmur in frustration.

"Didn't your brother make you promise to not treat him like an outsider?" She counters.

I groan and slide down to lie on the bed. "He did. I wonder why he did that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Each one of my brothers and I mean each one of them, hated Shourya to the bone before the accident. And while I admit he changed after the accident, was that all needed for him to earn sympathy from my brother and father? Then again, they're the most empathetic ones in the family so I can't even question their change in attitude." I grumble.

"Tara," she calls out quietly.

"Hmm?" I sit up straight in alarm.

"This might sound ridiculous and you can call me dumb for it, but what if, Shourya and Rudra are the same guy?"

"Not possible." I immediately decline the idea. "Initially, after the accident I had the same doubt but I checked and that was not the case. They're two different people. His looks slightly changed after the accident, but that was because of the plastic surgery. Some even say he looks more handsome now. But that's beside the point." I shrug.

"Yeah, you're there, you know better. It was just a guess. I'm watching too many mystery dramas lately, ignore my bullshit."

"I wish it was true. But I also don't want it to be."

"Why?"

"Remember what Rudra made me do to Shourya when he was in coma?" I shudder remembering the memory.

"Oh yeah, things might just get more complicated if the current Shourya turns out to be Rudra." She adds.

"Exactly. I don't want a murder on my conscience."

"But imagine if it really turns out be true. If the current Shourya is really Rudra and he got rid of the old Shourya with your help. What will you do?" She asks.

"I'll expose him." Is my blunt response. And I will. Without an ounce of hesitation.

Oops, Rudra might just gain an enemy if he reveals himself to be Shourya now.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.