The soft hum of her phone vibrating on the nightstand pulled Tara from the warmth of sleep.

She groaned, blindly reaching for it as the golden morning light spilled into the room through a crack in the curtains.

Blinking at the screen, she saw the name that had somehow started to light up her mornings more often than not: Shubman Gill.

Shubman:
Good morning. Are you awake yet?

Still groggy, she typed back, her fingers fumbling slightly over the keys.

Tara:
Define awake. Because technically, yes, but mentally... no.

His reply came almost instantly, and she could almost picture his faint smirk as she read it.

Shubman:
Good enough. Join us for breakfast downstairs. It’s better than ordering room service.

Tara:
Breakfast with you all? That’s a lot of energy first thing in the morning.

Shubman:
We’re not that bad. Besides, I saved you a seat. Can’t let Hardik steal your coffee again.

Tara laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face as she sat up. Shubman had a way of making even the simplest things sound inviting.

Tara:
Fine. I’ll be down in ten. But only because I need coffee.

Shubman:
Good. And don’t eat too much—I need you for football afterward.

Tara:
Football? No thanks.

Shubman:
It’s not optional. You’re coming.

Tara:
Shubman, I’m a disaster at sports.

Shubman:
Perfect. You’ll make me look better.

Tara rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she typed her final reply.

Tara:
You’re lucky I’m too sleepy to argue. See you in ten.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

The dining area buzzed with a quiet morning energy when Tara walked in. Most of the players were already there, spread across tables with plates of eggs, toast, and steaming cups of coffee. Shubman sat near the window, waving her over as soon as he saw her.

“You’re late,” he said as she slid into the chair across from him, his tone light but teasing.

Tara arched an eyebrow. “You texted me five minutes ago. Calm down, Gill.”

Shubman smirked, sliding a cup of coffee toward her. “I was being dramatic. Here—thought you’d need this.”

She accepted the cup gratefully, taking a long sip before sighing in relief. “Now I can deal with you properly.”

“Oh, I’m flattered,” he replied, his voice laced with mock offense.

Hardik sauntered over at that moment, a mischievous grin on his face. “Look who finally decided to join us! Tara, I was starting to think you’d ditch us for room service.”

“She almost did,” Shubman quipped, earning a glare from Tara.

“Some of us aren’t morning people,” Tara retorted, her voice light. “Unlike you athletes who seem to thrive on ungodly hours.”

“We’re just built different,” Hardik said with a dramatic shrug, earning a laugh from the group.

As breakfast went on, Tara found herself relaxing into the easy rhythm of the team’s banter. Ishan’s over-the-top stories, Hardik’s relentless teasing, and Shubman’s quiet humor all combined to create an atmosphere that felt oddly comforting.

“By the way,” Shubman said as they finished their meal, his gaze flickering to Tara. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about football. You’re still coming.”

Tara groaned, setting her coffee cup down. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nope,” he replied cheerfully. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I doubt it,” she muttered, though a smile tugged at her lips as she followed the group out of the dining area.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

The park was bathed in the gentle warmth of the morning sun, the dew on the grass glistening like tiny jewels. Shubman had organized a casual game of football, roping in a mix of players and support staff for a lighthearted match.

Tara stood at the edge of the field, eyeing the ball warily. “I still think this is a terrible idea,” she said, crossing her arms as she glanced at Shubman.

He grinned, tossing her a water bottle. “You’ll be fine. Just stay on my team, and I’ll carry us to victory.”

“Oh, how noble of you,” she replied dryly, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward.

As the game began, Tara quickly proved her earlier warning about being a disaster at sports. Her attempts to kick the ball were comically off-target, and she narrowly avoided tripping over her own feet more than once.

“Stop laughing!” she yelled at Shubman, who was doubled over on the sidelines after one particularly disastrous play.

“I can’t help it!” he managed between laughs. “You’re... you’re something else, Tara.”

Despite her protests, Tara found herself laughing along, her initial embarrassment melting away. There was something freeing about letting go of her usual composed demeanor and just having fun.

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

The game had ended, the competitive energy dissipating into the peaceful ambiance of the park.

Tara and Shubman found themselves sitting slightly apart from the rest of the group, their backs against the wooden fence that bordered the field.

The laughter of the others drifted toward them, but here, in their little corner, everything felt quieter.

Shubman handed Tara a bottle of water, his fingers brushing hers for a fleeting moment. She took it with a grateful smile, twisting the cap off and taking a long sip before leaning back with a sigh.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said, tilting his head toward her, his tone teasing but warm.

Tara turned her head, feigning a glare. “I don’t know, Shubman. I might need therapy after this.”

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re full of drama, you know that?”

“Says the guy who declared himself my personal savior on the field,” she shot back, her lips curving into a playful smirk.

“Well, someone had to save you,” he replied, his tone light but his gaze steady. “You were running toward the wrong goal half the time.”

Tara groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I knew you were going to bring that up.”

Shubman laughed again, his voice softer this time. “You’re a good sport, though. I’ll give you that.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, her eyes narrowing slightly. “So you’re saying I’m bad at football but good at pretending I’m okay with it?”

“Exactly,” he teased, his grin widening.

Tara dropped her hands, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

“I try,” he said with a shrug, leaning back on his palms and glancing up at the sky.

They fell into a companionable silence, the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of conversation filling the air.

Tara’s gaze drifted to Shubman, watching the way the sunlight kissed his skin and highlighted the relaxed curve of his lips. He looked completely at ease, a stark contrast to the intensity he usually carried on the field.

“Shubman?” she said hesitantly, her voice quieter now.

He turned his head, his expression curious but open. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the cap of her water bottle. “Thanks for inviting me today. I think I needed this... more than I realized.”

His smile was small but sincere, the kind that reached his eyes. “I’m glad you came. It’s nice seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Happy,” he said simply, his gaze steady on hers.

Tara felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, the sincerity in his voice disarming her. She looked away, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I guess I forgot what that felt like.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Shubman said, his tone quieter now. “You deserve to feel like this every day.”

The weight of his words settled between them, and Tara found herself at a loss for how to respond.

There was something in the way he spoke, in the way he looked at her—like he truly meant every word—that left her feeling both comforted and exposed.

“Thanks, Shubman,” she said softly, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re... a good friend.”

He nodded, though something flickered in his expression, too quick for her to read. “Anytime, Tara.”

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the park. As the others began calling for them to join, Tara stood and dusted off her jeans, offering Shubman her hand.

“Come on, Gill. Let’s see if you’re as good at walking back to the hotel as you are at football.”

He laughed, taking her hand and letting her pull him up. “You really don’t let me have any peace, do you?”

“Never,” she said with a grin, her playful energy masking the quiet flutter in her chest as they walked side by side back to the group.