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Apeksha's pov
"Come on, Apeksha," Afreen's tone reached another notch of exasperation.

Ever since last week, my friends had been relentlessly and, given a chance, even subtly, trying to draw out what had been going on between me and Om sir.

And I refused to budge from the initial statement we are just friends.

I told them he had always been like that, minus the casual touches and questionable proximity. And I doubt they are still sceptical, even suspicious.

"Our class starts in five," Geet reminded. She didn't possess as much energy as Afreen and the twins to keep probing, if I don't count the furtive glances cast my way.

Afreen pointed her forefinger and middle finger to her eyes before directing it in my direction implying I'm watching you while she was dragged away by Geet.

Giddiness stole all focus now that I'm alone. Wiping my clammy hands on the side of faded jeans, I finally opened my locker. And there it was, waiting for me; the red rose and letters Perfectly secured inside the envelope, I've been receiving ever since his sudden disappearance due to some work emergency.

Two weeks in our relationship and we had hardly navigated our dating dynamics. Our relationship is temporary and is racing against time and upon that I don't want to go days without him.

The last time he left was straight for ten months and I only got to know much later after waking up to my first hangover with just a note from him. And for months he had been so out of reach that it felt distant.

Much to my relief, this time we have been interacting occasionally via text or short phone calls and the routine roses and letters have been a speedometer to my heart.

I found myself in a silent corner before opening the letter, meanwhile the softness of the petals of the beautiful red rose graze against the pad of my fingers.

Little Swan,

I hope you've been thinking about me.
Because I can't seem to stop thinking about
my girl.
Appreciation goes in vain unless acknowledged out loud.
For me, words seem to fall short for
eloquence to appreciate how much you matter in my life.
If you haven't realised yet, let me be honest and tell you that you've been my anchor in the loneliest moments. And I'm not even exaggerating.

~Yours Om
*P.S.- stop calling me sir*

His love was gravity and nothing could help me falling with a force so unstoppable, to the depths so unfathomable.

Six days. Six letters. All of them were handwritten. Sometimes talking about the day, or sometimes incidents from our past or some just random. But each of them is equally meaningful.

I unzip my backpack and with utter delicacy, tuck the letter between one of my notebooks. My fingers linger a tad longer on the burn mark at the corner of the page. The mark was small but it was there in each of the letters, as if he was leaving his imprint through the cigarettes.

If this continues, he would ruin me for any man in future.

~
~
~

Done with dusting the books, I picked the last batch to arrange them on their allotted spot. The little library was now almost vacant considering it was about the closing time for lunch hours, allowing me the place to myself.

This place is sweet heaven and perfect to earn extra during Sunday breaks.

My hips and shoulders swayed inconspicuously while I softly crooned my favourite mantra, "Give me a fictional man- 6'4, veiny hands"

"I hope you will compromise a few inches," sultriness levitated around me causing the hairs at my nape to rise. A rough hand hovers over my small one, which was frozen in the air, and pushes the book on the shelf.

He is back.

My gaze zeros on the hand covering mine, his shirt sleeves were rolled to rest on his upper forearm, revealing the veins climbing through his translucent skin. The scene combined with his words earlier painted an illicit picture in my head that it took everything in me to not clench my thighs.

God, I'm definitely going to hell.

For some reason, the distance between us seemed receded, his neck craned down with his face just behind my ears. The heat emitting from him curls me in, sending a buzz throughout my body.

"Write down the list and I'll be any fictional man you want me to," his voice was missing a few octaves making it sound huskier.

"You don't have to," my voice came embarrassingly breathless. I spun around and the little space among our bodies had me sandwiced between the shelf and him. "I will choose you over a fictional man, any day."

Our eyes locked and everything else ceased from existence.

He deserved to be treated like how I wish a book man would treat me. Not like how his past lovers treated him.

Fuck! I hope those bitches die single or better catch STD. If it was up to me, I would personally shave their head for how they dimmed his expectations from a relationship.

I sucked in a breath as his knuckles caressed my cheeks before hostaging my chin, "Did you take care of yourself for us like I told you to, little swan ?"

The corner of my lips quirk, feeling quite bold, I place my hand above his shirt clad chest. He stiffened under my touch and my smile dropped. As I was about to pull back, his other wrist ceased my retreat, keeping my palm fixed on the spot, allowing me to feel the thump of his heart.

"Haec ubi pertinent. Nemo alius," the incoherent words were beyond my vocabulary. "About my previous question, did you or did you not ?"

(This is where you belong. No one else.)

"Come on, don't fret over it like I'm pregnant."

Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before I could decipher it.

My brows furrowed as he again spoke something undecipherable, "Olim fortasse."

(One day, perhaps.)

"Vakeel sahab, ye khufiya Latin batein karna band kijiye," I chided.

(Mr. Lawyer, stop talking in that cryptic Latin.)

His head dipped, forehead resting on my shoulder, with a soft vibration reverberating through his chest, the melody of his laughter chords straight to my heartstrings.

"It's late. Let's get something to feed you," he walked to the desk behind and packed my stuff in the backup before stringing it up on his shoulder.

I met him halfway, happy to coil my hands around his awaiting arms. "Are you sure you want to carry that ?"

"I don't see the benefit of spending hours in the gym if I can't carry my girlfriend's stuff."

I tried nevertheless a bashful smile took over my lips.

I was right, being his girlfriend is really lucky.

When he mentioned grabbing lunch, I didn't expect him to bring us to the food truck where we used to sneak out to dine.

We used to crash here frequently until she came, his first and last serious relationship. The longer they dated, the less we visited this place before we stopped gradually.

At that time I had only been fearful of losing my friend, I didn't foster any romantic feelings for him back then.

She had us all fooled by her charm, only to prove she didn't deserve someone as amazing as Om sir in her life. All she deserves is to have her hair shedding off her scalp to the point she is bald.

The delicious aroma of schezwan fried rice and manchurian wafts around me, effortlessly pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Thankyou," I took the fork from his hold, my eagerness palpable as my fork stabbed into the manchurian ball to bring it to my mouth. Albeit he seized my hasty actions to pause just as I was about to savour the tempting manchurian.

"Slow down, kiddo. Or you'll burn your mouth." He shakes his head at my scowl.

The scowl on my face etched deeper. "Stop calling me that," I chastised. "I'm not a kid."

"Definitely not a kid. But obviously adorable," he drawled. A smile almost touched my lips unless his next words followed, "And quite a handful too."

"Aap bahut bure ho." I didn't care if I sounded like a whiny kid.

(You're so bad.)

"Still you're dating me."

"So so bad," I dug into the food, my fork stabbed into the manchurian with more than required force. "You don't get to take leverage just because you're my favourite.

A rich velvety guffaw caressed me and I stuffed more rice in my mouth to mask the easing of my expression. "Adorable indeed," he quipped. Then he was pulling my cheeks, "You are my favourite too."

Warmth elevated on my cheeks and I stuffed more food in my mouth.

I stole a furtive glance at his plate and a warm feeling washed away the initial irritation. I didn't like peas and he had made sure I had none in my share of rice.

What can I say ? I'm bestfriends with Shinchan.

"It's only the gravy now on your plate. Let's share."

He ran out of manchurian and the line was too long to get us a refill.

"I want you to finish it all. I'm full anyway."

Heedless to his protests and glares, I picked two balls of manchurian and put it in his plate instead.

"I'll not hear anything. Just eat." A glare and he gulped back his protest.

We split the bill, like I usually insist, regardless of his excuse of having the right to pay for his girlfriend.

Ever since I started earning for my own expenses, I have taken on myself to pay at least for my share when I can. And the other times he pacifies me saying I must load him with presents once I land a stable job.

The trust he put in me is implausibly staggering for my own self.

Not falling for him is as possible as pigs floating in the clouds.

~
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~

Vyom's pov
The employees shuffle at my sight, jumping off their seats to their feet, bowing in respect. I nod, reciprocating their greetings and dismissing the receptionist who fell in step to guide me.

My hand lifts up, knuckles knocking on the glass door before my fingers curl around the handle, pushing the door open.

My intrusion dragged the attention of every presence inside, their discussion falling short, all eyes on me.

"Gentleman, let's finish this later." The firm feminine command, draped in the disguise of courtesy, echoes. The men nod, picking the files and laptop before they march out, greeting me on their way.

"Mr. Fernandez, after I give you a call, send two coffees within ten minutes."

Her PA nodded in response and left.

With the cabin discarnated of any intruding presence, the stoic lines of her face crack, shoulders slump in relaxation as a smile blooms, "Bhai."

I stride further inside. Even before I could reach near her desk, Vamika had already embraced me. My baby sister. Broken but beautifully fortitude.

"Hey pumpkin," A contented sigh exerted. "It feels like I'm seeing you after centuries," I caressed a hand through her hair.

A soft scoff vented, "Because of your obsession to avoid coming home."

Our parents' obsession to thrive in the circles had always left me and Vamika on our own. Geeta aunty took care of us most of the time and it was me who filled in the spot of Vamika's guardian.

She grabs my arm, ushering me to the L-shaped couch.

"Which arm ?" she demands.

"I'm fine."

That earned a glare. "I'm not buying it until I check it myself."

Knowing it's not easy to stave off Vamika Somani's command, I give in. I remove my suit jacket and roll my right sleeves, revealing my almost healed arm.

She examines it almost as scrutinizingly as she analyses one of her employees' presentations that induce them nervous wrecks.

"I swear I'm never letting you go back there if you ever return after having a whole bullet in your flesh rather than just a graze."

No one was stupid enough to argue when it was the young unwavering CEO of Somani Jewels firing out orders. So I simply obliged with a nod.

Vamika was the only one who knew my involvement in the dark shady world. Apeksha had been too young and later I thought it was better to keep her away from the lurking dangers.

"I can't lose someone I love again," her voice cracks, revealing the vulnerability.

I squeeze her arms in a silent assurance.

"How have you been ?" Meanwhile, I place the food container I brought with myself and lay it out on the table.

"Good so far, since you haven't received any calls to get your knocked out sister to get home."

She wasted no time in grabbing a spoon and digging in. "I thought I would never get to eat your food, without mom having a stroke knowing her son had exerted himself in the kitchen."

We both laughed.

"Stop overworking," worry seeps within. Despite the perfectly done makeup, I'm sure she had bags under her eyes. "You are turning into a workaholic."

"Better than wasting my nights turning into a drunkard," she laughed. But I found no humor in her jest.

Silence held us hostage. She feigned nonchalance, ignoring the elephant in the room like she usually does. I wanted to speak a lot but the right word eluded me to arrange it in the correct sentence.

She hates the line you need to move on as much as I hate sex with you was amazing.

"Do you have access to the Saini farmhouse, pumpkin ?"

Her eyebrows raise, halting halfway from chewing before chewing it quickly and gulping down.

I don't really interfere in our father's business or company and she knows that.

Gulping a few sips of water, her attention darts to me from the food, "The broker did a good job to inveigle dad in buying the burnt property." She further continues, "Ever since dad has been gushing about its history, considering it belonged to an infamous family who unfortunately burned to ashes in their own holiday house."

She offered me a morsel and I happily accepted. It's been so long since we both sat together simply enjoying a meal.

"From what I assume, dad is planning to rebuild it, would invite the people of the circle so he could boast that he now owns one of the Saini properties."

That makes perfect sense. The Saini family had been a powerful force to reckon in the glorious business world. The property is too enormous for dad to buy it alone. But for now, Singh has asked me to deal with my dad.

"Do you want to know something else ?"

I rake a hand through my hair, "Just keep me posted about it."

She gives me a thumbs up, her whole attention now on the remaining food while my back leans in a comfortable position. I roll above the other sleeve, unbuttoning the top two buttons to breathe more relaxed.

It would have been a cakewalk if I had to deal with someone else than my own father. I can't even opt for an insidious way.

"Do you wanna grab some coffee ?" Vamika walks out of the attached bathroom after washing her hands.

I rise on my feet, running a hand down my shirt to smoothen it and hang my suit jacket on my arms. "Let's head home. It's Saturday. Mom and dad won't be home until Monday."

"Shall we watch a movie ?"

Earlier I had planned to spend the weekends with Apeksha. Nevertheless it's been ages since I spent some time with my own baby sister.

"Let's invite Apeksha like old times." I shrug, not giving out my eagerness upon her suggestion. "She won't even have to sneak in today."

Her eyes gleamed knowingly and I just stared down at her.

Chapter Words- 2674

He wrote her letters.. who says romance is dead 😭

Vamika, my baby.. let me give
you a hug 🫂

Signing off
~T.R