Early in the morning, the door bell rung repeatedly, annoying Esha and forcing her to give up the warmth of her blanket and couch. She'd fallen asleep eating ice-cream and watching TV after she'd come back from the party last night, pissed off at Nikhil. He'd tried calling her and had even left a voicemail and few messages. She hadn't answered to any of it.

Seeing Nikhil standing at the other end of the doorway, her anger returned. She crossed her arms across her chest, "What are you doing here?"

"We agreed on spending the day together." He nudged past her with a brown paper bag of breakfast.

For a second, she was too taken aback at how easily he did that, as if it were a normal and everyday aspect for the two of them – to bring breakfast and eat together. "That was before what you did last night. Thank you for breakfast, but leave."

He made no attempts to, however. If anything, he walked further inside the apartment towards the kitchen to get two plates and forks. When he returned, she was still standing by the door. He let out a sigh, placed the utensils on the dining table, and walked up to her.

He forwarded his hand towards her head, but she inched away from him, thinking he was going to touch her. Instead, his hand went to the door behind her and pulled it shut.

"I apologized to you enough last night, and you'd know that if you would bother to check your phone." That was him telling her he was done apologizing, whether she forgave him or not. Then, he placed both his hands on her either shoulders, and turned her around so he could nudge her to walk towards the table. "Now, I don't know about you, but I don't carry yesterday's grudges to today in my personal life."

He made her sit, and standing behind the chair, he leaned over to place a quick peck close to her collar bone. Before she could open her mouth to realize his actions and scold him, his eyes had traveled to the couch.

He questioned, starting to walk to the chair across from her, "Did you sleep on the couch?"

She shrugged, "Fell asleep watching TV. And whether or not you carry grudges, I do."

He raised a brow, taking out the box of pancakes from the paper-bag. "I'm guessing I'm not forgiven?"

"No."

He nodded and without another word of asking her to forgive him, he placed a box in front of her and one in front of him. She let it be for a few minutes, before she questioned, "Does it not bother you?"

"No." he simply answered and it was true. He knew she was a hard person to appease. So, instead of asking her forgiveness yet again on something he didn't understand, he asked so he could try and understand the reason behind her anger. "Why does it bother you whether or not your coworkers know who you are dating? Its none of their business."

"That's not the problem, Nikhil. My problem is that I don't like just anyone knowing what goes on in my personal life. That's my personal life, and I like to keep it like that. Private. I don't need people commenting on it. Especially when the two of us are working together on a project." She was aware that they worked for different people, but it was still a complication and she preferred to keep her work and personal life separate. Nikhil couldn't be helped given the events of their drunken night leading her two lives to be woven together, but she was damn well still going to try and strike a balance.

Nikhil could see how both of their bottom point was that it was none of the business of other people. They just had a different way of expressing it. "So just don't answer any questions they ask, and eventually they will stop asking." He offered, taking a bite. "Why aren't you eating? I thought you liked pancakes."

She gave him a light glare, "I need to brush first."

"Are you waiting for an invitation then?" He teased, making her roll her eyes and leave towards her room to freshen up.

When she returned, she noticed how neat the living room was. He'd folded up her blanket, and the empty pint of ice-cream was nowhere to be seen. If she were to open the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink where a garbage can was, she would find it discarded there. The throw pillows were in their place on the couch instead of on the floor.

"You didn't have to do that."

He simply waved it off and ushered her to the table so they could finally have breakfast.

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After Esha had taken a shower and dressed, he took her around the city. Since she still hadn't been to lots of places, it was a day full of adventure for her. Even though it was cold, she insisted on seeing the light house. Standing there on a rock, looking at the light house in a distance, she was freezing. And yet, it felt peaceful to her.

Noticing her expression, he pointed out, "You love lighthouses, huh?"

She nodded, giving him a brief glance before looking out to the body of water and the light house. There was a mysterious aura behind lighthouses that she admired since being a child. She felt connected to the idea. "Even in the dark and rough tides, sailors have the dependency of lighthouses to return home safe, no matter how far away they are. They stand tall in the middle of nowhere... and even though they barely have a light burning, they know it's out there. They're not alone."

After she'd passionately explained to him the reason behind her love for the architecture, she'd expected him to say something, or even laugh and call her crazy. She knew a couple of her friends had called her silly for thinking so deep. But, Nikhil? For the longest few passing seconds, he remained silent, watching her.

She eventually questioned his silence. "What?"

"Why do you think you're alone?"

His question stunned her. With burrowed brows, she repeated. "What?"

"This philosophy you have behind lighthouses... yes, it's true that sailors use it, but I also get the feeling that you're connecting it to yourself on a personal level... to your family, perhaps."

She shook her head, lying to herself, "No, don't be silly. It's nothing like that."

He, however, continued to insist. "You always talk about your sister and jeeju, and his family, but never your own parents." It was a well-observed fact that even she couldn't deny. There wasn't much about her parents or her family life in the earlier days that she had revealed to him.

She stalled the topic, "Are you cold? I'm freezing. Can we go inside the lighthouse?"

He let her walk away in a rush at first, but quickly caught up after deciding that he would get her to confide in him – atleast some parts, if not everything. "Do you not have a good relationship with your parents?"

"Nikhil, it's not necessary that everyone has a perfect loving relationship with their parents like you do. Now please, can we not ruin the day by talking about things that are only going to upset me?" She requested, after turning to face him abruptly. So far, they were having a nice time. She didn't want to ruin it by having to think about something she constantly struggled with whenever she was spending time with him.

Realizing that this topic for her went deeper than he had initially taken it to be, he answered with a nod. Visibly, her shoulders dropped as if the muscles were relaxing. As much as he wished she would confide in him, he let the thought go as they neared the light house, hoping that once they built that trust and understanding in their relationship, she would share things on her own accord.

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They spent a good chuck of time at the top whereby they ended up losing track of time. Mostly, it was because he told her of a lot of places he'd visited, the things he saw and loved, and every now and then, Esha would say how she would have loved to be there, or how she was jealous of him for having traveled so much.

It was obvious to her that even without his business trips, he wasn't the kind of person to spend his vacation or holidays inside the four walls of a house. He'd always be out and about, visiting different places. It didn't necessarily have to be places outside of the United States. He even loved visiting different states and cities in the country itself.

When Nikhil's eye fell on his watch, he swore, standing up from the top of the stairs where they were seated. "Shit, it's late. We need to get you home, come on."

"And make you drive when it's snowing outside? No, thanks." She spoke, making him realize the weather had picked up.

"Why didn't you point that out sooner?"

She shrugged carelessly, "I liked hearing the stories you were telling me." Seeing he was still worried, she reached for his hand and tugged him down to sit next to her. "Really, Nikhil, it's fine. If I really wanted to be home, I would have asked you to take me home hours ago. I'm not so stubborn as to make you drive when it's snowing outside. Despite appearance, I do care about safe driving."

"Is that your way of telling me you care about me?" He teased her, resulting in her leaving his hand and giving him a slight nudge on the shoulder to push him. He asked another question, "So I've been meaning to ask, how did you really figure out before that it was me?"

She found it to be a random question but it was true that he hadn't asked it before. Neither had she told him how she'd figured out it was him. "I didn't see your face that morning, and neither did I remember much about the night at the time, but while leaving, I had seen that tattoo on your back. And that day, when I was giving you your shirt back, I saw the same tattoo."

He let out a chortle. "Never would have thought that thing would betray me."

She found herself smiling as well. Who would have thought she'd be able to recognize him because of that small information? "Why a peacock feather? You don't seem the type."

He stared at his palm while answering, "My parents were going to name my sister Mayuri. When I turned eighteen, I got that in her memory."

She nodded, knowing the meaning of the name translated to peacock in English. "It's a beautiful name."

It wasn't too common of an Indian name, as far as she knew. Then again, her knowledge was pretty limited as she hadn't lived in India for long, sparing her early childhood days. And those days, she did not truly hold a memory of as she was barely 2 when they immigrated to the States.

"What do you think about tattoos?" He questioned, knowing she didn't have one.

"Well, you can say I am indifferent to them. Some of them, like the small and pretty kinds, I do like. I can even understand getting words or quotes inked. But I could never understand why people would cover their whole body with tattoos, or get someone's name inked. I mean, what if you end up breaking up with them, you know?"

"Ever the skeptic, Esha." He teased her involuntary ability to chide relationships.

"Hey, it's true! It happens all the time. People so stupidly in so called love get their boyfriend or girlfriends name inked and then regret it when it's all over and done with. Forget bfs and gfs, even married couples."

"So that's a no on getting your name tattooed?"

She gasped, "No, don't you dare! Why would you even think of it?" She questioned, truly not understanding where he would get that idea from.

He laughed, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her to his side. "Relax, Mishti. I was just teasing you."

"Maybe, but I'm serious." She said, turning her head and leaning back slightly so he could see on her face that her words matched her expression. "Don't ever. It was really sweet of you to get a peacock feather in memory of your sister, but don't get another tattoo unless you've thought about it for atleast a hundred times."

"Okay, how about I'll just ask you for permission before I get any more permanent ink on my skin? How does that sound?"

She shook her head, "No, not me. Ask your mom. Yeah, ask her. If she wouldn't approve, assume I wouldn't either."

He laughed and she didn't understand the reason until he explained, "Babe, you don't know her. Between the two of you, there are a lot more things she would approve of. She's not your typical Indian mother. She's got a couple tattoos herself."

She shook her head, unable to stop herself from grinning throughout the conversation. "Why are we even having this silly conversation?"

"It's not silly." He countered. "Anyway, say you had to get one. What would you get?"

"I personally don't want one."

"But if you did. Hypothetically." He asked her to assume.

She thought before asking, "Do you know anything about musical notes?"

He shook his head, "No, not really. I just listen to music and appreciate it."

She explained, "Okay, well there's this concept called the circle of fifths. It means that the keys are five notes apart. I don't know exactly which note, but I'd probably get one of the major notes from that circle."

"Why that?"

"Like it means, five notes apart. I don't know, I like the symbolism that you could be away from people you love, but like it's a circle of fifths, it's a circle of life. Your lives will never truly separate. Like with my sister, I don't have to see her all the time for her to know I love her and she loves me. We can pick up right where we left off in the updates of others' lives, you know?"

He nodded, understanding that. The way she always talked about her sister, sometimes he wished he too had a sister. He missed that, just like she wished she had a family like his. Their lives had aspects that the other wanted, and if only they'd get to the point where they could share it with each other, their happiness would know no bounds.

"I hope one day, soon, you'll learn to love me too."

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