HEY GUYS HERE IS THE CHAPTER I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! SORRY IT'S REALLY LONG AND SLOW! HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! i WROTE THIS CHAPTER AROUND 6 MONTHS AGO BUT EDITING AND ALL TOOK AROUND A WEEK! ADDITIONALLY, I'M not Indian nationality wise ( I am ethnically) so it takes longer and it's different with the time zones. ANYWAYS LOVE YOU GUYS MY DEARESTS!
In the jeep, Aaravi shifted slightly in her seat as she adjusted her bag near her feet, her fingers brushing against the chain of her mangalsutra before pulling her dupatta a little closer across her front out of habit rather than intention, and next to her Akshay drove with one hand loosely hooked over the steering wheel, his posture relaxed his sleeves rolled up just enough to show the faint toned muscles.
He kept glancing at her with his peripheral vision in amusement.
She caught it on the third glance.
"Bolna hai toh seedha bolo," she said, turning her head just enough to look at him properly, "Aise side se aaknh maar ke, ghur kyu rahe ho!"
Akshay huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly as his eyes returned to the road.
"Aapko lagta hai main itna muft hoon ki drive karte waqta aapko hi dekho?" he replied.
"Aap ho muft ," she said immediately. "Subah se mujhe dekh rahe ho."
"Main drive kar raha hoon. Aapki aur aapki friend ki tarah mera attention idhar udhar nahi ghumta driving ke waqt," he pointed out.
" Arrey phir se wahi puraani baat... baar baar kyu dora rahe ho" she chuckled nervously.
That earned her a brief glance, sharper this time, though it softened instantly when his eyes landed on the faint line of sindoor at her hairline and on the green bangles on her wrists.
" sach mein sindoor pehnogi?" he asked, nodding faintly toward her forehead.
"Toh?" she said. "Achha lag raha hai mujhe."
"Achha lag raha hai," he repeated, glancing at her again, one corner of his mouth lifting.
"Aur jab college mein log poochna shuru karenge tab bhi achha lagega?"
She rolled her eyes, turning toward the window.
"Logon ka kaam hai poochna," she muttered. "Mera kaam hai ignore karna."
" aur kyu poochenge... inke paas time nahi hai khud pe dhyaan dene ka!"
"Aap ignore karogi unhe?" he asked, a laugh slipping into his voice.
"Main perfectly capable hoon ignore karne ke liye, har jagah nahi kalesh karti" she said, a little too defensively.
"Haan," he nodded, entirely unconvinced. "Kal hi Meera ke saath 20 minutes ka kalesh chal raha tha aapka Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi ke upar.."
"Woh Meera hai," she argued. " uske saath mein kuch bhi kar sakti"
"Dekho," he said, quieter now, "baat yeh nahi hai ki aapko yeh sab pehenna chahiye ya nahi. Aap jo chaho karo, usme mujhe problem nahi hai."
"Lekin unnecessary attention ka koi faayda nahi hai," he continued, one hand lifting briefly off the steering wheel in a small, gesture before settling back. "Aap already itna handle kar rahi ho. Classes, prep... ab agar har doosra insaan aapko rok ke poochne lage ki 'yeh kya hai, kab hua, kaise hua'... toh dimaag idhar udhar chala jayega."
Aaravi shifted slightly, her fingers now playing with the edge of her dupatta again, though she didn't interrupt him.
"Aur honestly," he added, glancing at her again, "mujhe nahi lagta aapko abhi yeh sab explain karte rehna chahiye. Focus thoda seedha rakhna better hai aapke UPSC pe."
She narrowed her eyes immediately.
"Aap phir shuru ho gaye uncle," she muttered.
He almost smiled.
"Main sirf—"
"—concerned ho mere liye," she cut in, mimicking his voice lightly before sighing. "Pata hai."
For a second neither of them spoke, the signal turning green as the jeep moved forward again, and then without warning he reached out, his fingers quick and precise as they brushed against her forehead, clearly intending to wipe the sindoor away.
Aaravi reacted instantly.
Her hand shot up, catching his wrist mid-motion.
"Bilkul nahi," she said, her grip firm despite the softness in her voice.
"Main bas—" he started.
"Pata hai aap kya kar rahe the," she said, cutting him off, though now there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Aur answer abhi bhi nahi hai."
He held her gaze for a second longer, then exhaled quietly, letting his hand drop back.
"Kitni ziddi hai aap," he muttered under his breath.
She released his wrist slowly, then leaned forward without another word, reaching behind to grab something from her bag, and after a moment she pulled out a cap, quickly fixing her hair before placing it on her head and tugging it down just enough to cover the sindoor.
She sat back with a small nod, like she'd solved a problem.
"Ho gaya," she said dusting her hands.
" Problem solved"
Akshay stared at her for a second, then let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.
He chuckled under his breath, then after a brief pause, his expression shifted again.
"Waise," he said, glancing at her, "UPSC ka syllabus khatam ho gaya ya abhi bhi 'mood pe depend karta hai kab padhai karna' phase chal raha hai?"
She groaned instantly, dropping her head back against the seat.
"Aap na bas mauka dhundte ho mujhe saatane ke liye" she said dramatically.
He reached over without warning and lightly tapped her nose.
"Focus on your studies," he said simply.
She froze for a second, blinking at him in disbelief before swatting his hand away.
"Excuse me?" she said. "Main koi junior kg ki bacchi hoon kya aise karte ho?"
"Haan.. aapki harkatein se hi pata chalta hai. Pihu ke saamne bhi aap bachi lagti hai" he said smoothly.
" Padhai pe dhyaan do.. Kuch mahine mein hi prelims hai na aapke"
She stared at him, then scoffed.
"Jo aap kahe, mummyji," she said flatly, turning toward the window with exaggerated obedience.
He laughed properly this time.
"Achha hai," he said. "Sun leti ho kabhi kabhi."
"Sun rahi hoon na," she muttered. " Aur aapke baatein bhi ignore"
The college gate came into view, the familiar cluster of students already gathered near the entrance, and Aaravi straightened slightly, adjusting her bag as her expression shifted into something more composed, though the cap stayed firmly in place.
Akshay slowed the jeep, pulling up just outside.
"Main try karunga aaj thoda jaldi aane ka," he said casually,
. "Shaam ko... agar aap free ho toh thoda dekh lete hain. Polity and Economics ya jo bhi chal raha hai, woh revise karte hai."
She blinked.
"Coaching dene wale ho?" she asked, one brow lifting.
"Try kar raha hoon," he replied. "Guarantee nahi hai."
Aaravi watched him for a second, something softer flickering across her face before she masked it quickly.
"Dekhte hain," she said lightly. "Mood pe depend karega."
She stepped out, adjusting her bag and pulling the cap slightly lower as she shut the door, and before she could take more than a few steps...
"AARAVI!"
She turned just in time for Meera to rush toward her, grabbing her arm immediately, her eyes lighting up as she leaned in conspiratorially.
"Madam," Meera said, barely containing her grin, "aaj bhi pati dev drop karke gaye?"
Aaravi didn't even flinch.
"Haan," she said calmly.
Meera giggled, " Waahhh... full VIP service chal raha hai."
Meera's gaze flicked to the cap, then back to her face, then narrowed with exaggerated suspicion.
"Cap kyun pehni hai?" she asked.
"Sunlight," Aaravi replied instantly.
Meera reached up without warning and tilted the cap slightly, just enough to peek at the sindoor before letting it fall back into place, her grin widening instantly.
"Tu chuppa kyu rahi hai," she whispered, delighted.
"Tu zinda rehna chahti hai toh awaaz kam rakh.. gadhi kayki," Aaravi muttered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the entrance.
Meera laughed under her breath, leaning closer.
"Waise smart move," she added. "Warna yahan toh aaj full breaking news phel jaati."
"Exactly," Aaravi said. "Mujhe aaj normal din chahiye."
Meera hummed, clearly unconvinced.
"Normal aur teri life?" she scoffed.
Aaravi rolled her eyes, though a smile slipped through as she pushed the gate open.
"Chal andar," she said. "Lecture miss ho jayega!"
—------------------------
The door opened with a tired push, and Akshay stepped in, the weight of the day burdening his shoulders. The uniform he wore held its structure , the khaki shirt crisp despite the long hours, the dark shoulder straps lined with the IPS insignia catching the light as he moved, his nameplate glinting faintly against his chest, and the belt at his waist sitting firm and precise, every detail in place.
He paused just inside the doorway, exhaling under his breath as he ran a hand briefly through his hair, slightly disrupting the neatness he had maintained all day, before his gaze lifted and landed on her, taking in the scattered books, the open notebook, and the very obvious lack of actual studying happening.
"Aap padh rahi ho ya khud ki duniya mein khoyi hu?" he said, his voice carrying that familiar dry amusement as he shut the door behind him.
Aaravi didn't even look up immediately, flipping a page with unnecessary force before replying, "I'm very productive, aap samjhoge nahi."
"Yeh productive hai?" he said, nudging one of the books lightly with his foot, "teen ghante mein ek hi page?"
She finally looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. "Aapko kaise pata main teen ghante se yahi hoon?"
"Kyuki main aapko jaanta hoon," he replied instantly, then reached down and tapped her nose in one quick motion before she could react, "aur aapka dimaag jab bhaagta hai na toh aap pen se table pe tapping karti ho."
She swatted his hand away, glaring half-heartedly. "Aap CID ho kya?"
"Crime Branch," he corrected, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he began loosening his sleeves, rolling them up slowly to his forearms, the movement unhurried and deliberate as if shedding the day piece by piece, "farak hota hai."
"Same hi lagta hai," she muttered, though her eyes followed the motion for a second longer than necessary before she looked back down at her notes.
He disappeared briefly into the bedroom, and when he returned a few minutes later, the uniform had been replaced by a simple t-shirt and track pants, and he picked up one of her books, flipping through it with a strong focus.
"Chalo," he said, settling down beside her on the floor, one knee bent while the other stretched out slightly, "aaj se proper padhai start karte hain."
"Haan," he said simply, tapping the page in front of him, "Ancient History se start karte hain."
There was a pause, and then she blinked at him before letting out a short laugh. "Ancient history?"
"Haan," he repeated.
She tilted her head, a slow grin forming as she looked at him. "Oh, like your childhood?"
He stopped mid-page flip, staring at her for a second before a quiet scoff escaped him.
"Seriously? NOT funny."
"Sach bol rahi hoon," she continued, leaning closer "aapka time period bhi toh ancient mein hi aata hoga."
" oh really?" he leaned closer towards her raising an eyebrow.
"Sach bol rahi hoon," she said, barely containing her grin.
He reached out and flicked her forehead lightly. "Focus karo."
"Aap pe?" she grinned back.
"Book pe," he corrected, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
She huffed but shifted closer anyway, dragging her notebook with her as he reopened the book, his finger tracing a line down the page before he began.
She groaned dramatically but shifted slightly closer anyway, pulling her notebook toward her as he began, his tone slipping naturally into something more structured.
"Indus Valley Civilization," he said, glancing at her to make sure she was paying attention, "major features batao."
She stared back at him blankly for two seconds, then shrugged. " Proper planning thi...People were civilized."
He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling as if gathering patience, then opened them again with a look that was equal parts disbelief and amusement. "Specifics, Aaravi."
"Drainage system?" she tried.
"Better," he nodded, leaning slightly forward as he picked up her pen and pointed at the page, "urban planning, grid pattern, advanced drainage system, standardized weights and measures... aur kya?"
She chewed on the end of the pen, thinking, then suddenly perked up. "Great Bath!"
"Good," he said.
She beamed for a second before immediately ruining it. "Waise aap waha hote toh definitely waha baith ke baashan shuru kar dete."
He gave her a flat look. "Aap padhogi ya commentary chalu rahega?"
"Dono," she replied sweetly.
"Chalo," he said after a while, turning the page, "Vedic period, difference between Early Vedic and Later Vedic."
She groaned again, dropping her head back dramatically. "Yeh sab kaun yaad rakhta hai?"
"Aap," he said calmly.
She turned her head to look at him, squinting slightly. "Noooooo" she groaned.
"Main aapko train kar raha hoon," he replied, and before she could respond, he reached out and booped her nose again, softer this time, "future IAS officer."
"Main bola tha na," he added after a moment, his voice quieter now, "main jaldi aane ki koshish karunga."
She didn't look up, but a small smile tugged at her lips as she replied, "Aaj toh aa gaye."
"Haan," he said, watching her for a second longer, "aur kal bhi aane ki koshish karunga."
She hummed in response, flipping the page as she nudged his arm lightly. "Ab aur padhaao, uncle."
"Chalo, next," he said, flipping the page,
"Buddhist councils."
Aaravi let out a low groan, her head tipping back slightly as she stared at the ceiling for a "Aapko na... bilkul sympathy nahi hai bhole bhaale sundar ladkiya ke liye."
"Bilkul nahi," he replied quickly,
"UPSC ko bhi nahi hogi."
She narrowed her eyes at him, then leaned forward again, propping her chin up on her palm as she flipped to a new page. "Theek hai, poochho."
He nodded once, shifting slightly so he was angled more toward her, one arm resting loosely over his bent knee as he asked, "Who among the following Buddhist council held during the reign of Kanishka in Kashmir?"
She blinked at him, her expression blank for a moment as the question settled, and then she frowned slightly, her fingers tapping lightly against the notebook as she tried to pull the answer.
"Kanishka..." she murmured, "Fourth Buddhist Council..."
"In Kashmir..." she continued, her brows knitting together as she focused, "Chairman... Vasumitra... right?"
A small nod followed almost immediately from him,. "Haan. Fourth Buddhist Council, presided by Vasumitra, aur Ashvaghosha was associated as well."
A faint, sleepy smile tugged at her lips, satisfaction flickering across her face as she scribbled it down, though her writing slanted slightly this time, the lines not as straight as before.
"Dekha," she muttered, her voice carrying a trace of smugness despite the exhaustion, "main itni bhi useless nahi hoon."
He shook his head as he reached out and lightly tapped the top of her pen. "Kab bola maine?"
He noticed the slight delay in her responses, the way her shoulders had begun to slump, the way her eyes blinked just a little longer each time, but he still he continued.
"Achha, yeh batao," he said, his tone easing into something a little gentler without losing direction, "Early Vedic society ka nature kaisa tha? Pastoral ya agricultural dominant?"
She frowned again, taking a second longer to respond, her head tilting slightly,
"Pastoral..." she said slowly, "later... agriculture shift hua..."
"Good," he said softly.
"Next," he continued, though his voice had lowered almost unconsciously to match the quiet of the moment, "Rigvedic tribes ko kya bolte the?"
There was no immediate answer this time, it was silent in their home.
"Aaravi?" he prompted gently.
"Haan..." she murmured,when he glanced at her, he noticed the way her pen had stilled against the page, her fingers still loosely holding it but no longer writing.
Her head had tilted slightly forward, just enough that a strand of her hair had slipped loose near her cheek, and her eyes had now closed completely, her breathing evening out into a slow, steady rhythm.
He watched her for a second, the corner of his expression softening as the realization settled.
"Great," he muttered under his breath, a faint, tired smile appeared on his face, as he carefully reached out and took the pen from her hand before it could slip and stain the page.
She shifted slightly at the movement, her head tilting sideways until it rested lightly against his shoulder, and then settled fully as her body gave in to sleep.
"Rigvedic tribes..." he murmured softly, almost to himself now, "Jana."
He leaned back slightly adjusting his position just enough to support the weight of her head more comfortably, one hand resting loosely against the floor while the other hovered for a second before lightly pulling the notebook away from her lap.
" Padhai waqt hi sona aata... nahi toh pura din bak bak chalta rehta iska. ," he murmured quietly, a faint smile lingering as he looked down at her
Carefully, he slid one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her in a smooth, practiced motionlmas her weight settled against him, she stirred just slightly, her hand curling loosely against his T-shirt .
He adjusted his grip instinctively and started toward the bedroom.
"Har baar..." he muttered
"main hi uthata hoon aapko."
He set her down gently on the bed, one hand lingering for a moment longer to make sure she didn't jolt awake, before pulling the blanket over her with a soft care.
Then, with a quiet exhale, he switched off the light and moved to his side of the bed, the room settling into darkness as the city outside continued its distant, restless rhythm.
------
The next thing morning, Aaravi was sleeping peacefully, when the loud sound of a blaring siren cut through their bedroom.
Her eyes snapped open halfway, and before she could even process where she was, the mattress shifted and a voice cut through the noise.
"Utho. Utho, Aaravi."
She groaned immediately, pulling the blanket over her head. "Band karo yeh torture..."
"Aaravi," Akshay said again, louder this time, already out of bed as he reached over and switched it off, only for the silence to last exactly half a second before he clapped his hands once, sharp and decisive, "Wake up."
She peeked out from under the blanket, squinting at him with betrayal written all over her face. "It's night."
"Subah ke paanch baje hain," he replied calmly, as if that made it better.
"Same thing," she muttered, trying to curl back into the pillow.
The blanket was pulled away in one swift motion.
"Aap UPSC dene wali hona ?" he said, already in full motion as he grabbed her wrist and tugged lightly, "chalo, uthho."
She resisted immediately, going completely limp. "Main mar chuki hoon. Please respect."
"Come on Wakeup!," he said, unimpressed, tightening his grip just enough to pull her up into a sitting position, her hair a complete mess and her eyes barely open.
"Bathroom. Five minutes."
"Main nahi ja rahi," she said stubbornly.
He stared at her for exactly one second, then leaned forward and tapped her nose sharply. "March."
She glared at him, then dragged herself off the bed, muttering under her breath the entire way as she disappeared into the bathroom.
By the time she came out, still half-asleep,
Her books were stacked neatly, notes arranged, and Akshay was in the middle of push-ups on the floor, his movements steady and controlled, completely at odds with the chaos currently happening in her brain.
"Baitho," he said between reps, not even looking up, "start karte hain."
She dropped into her spot, pulling a notebook toward her with zero energy. "Mujhe yaad bhi nahi main kaun hoon."
"Achha hai," he said, lowering himself again, "fresh start."
She rolled her eyes but picked up her pen anyway.
"Question," he continued, pushing up again, "Rigveda mein sabse important river kaunsi mention hoti hai?"
She blinked at him, trying to focus. "Saraswati..."
"One," he counted under his breath, continuing his push-ups.
"Next," he said, pushing up again, "Janapadas ka development kis period mein hua?"
She rubbed her face, thinking hard. "Later Vedic period... right?"
"Two," he counted.
A small, proud smile appeared on her face despite the situation. "Dekha. Beauty with Brains"
"Mahajanapadas kitne the?"
"Sixteen," she answered instantly.
"Easy hai yeh," she said, flipping her pen between her fingers.
"Achha," he said, glancing up at her briefly, a challenge flickering in his eyes, "Buddhist council under Kanishka?"
She grinned immediately. "Fourth Buddhist Council. Kashmir. Chairman Vasumitra."
He paused mid-motion, then gave a small nod before continuing. "Four."
"Chalo, next poochho," she said, a little more alert now, a little more ready.
"What is the difference between fiscal deficit and revenue deficit?"
She groaned but forced her brain to function. "Fiscal deficit... total expenditure minus total receipts excluding borrowings..."
"Good," he said, pushing up, "aur revenue deficit?"
"Inflation targeting framework India mein kis act ke through aaya?" he asked.
She squinted at him. "Aapko maza aa raha hai na?"
"Answer," he repeated.
"RBI Act amendment... 2016..." she said uncertainly.
—-------
At college, Aaravi sat somewhere in the middle row next to Meera. Her notebook lay open in front of her, pen loosely held between her fingers as her elbow rested against the desk, her cheek leaning into her palm while her gaze hovered somewhere between the whiteboard and complete mental absence, the words written in thick marker.. "Constitutional Morality vs Social Morality".
Her eyes burned.
"Focus," she muttered under her breath.
Her mind kept slipping back to push-ups, to his voice counting, to questions thrown at her in between breaths, to that relentless again, again, again.
"Aaravi."
Professor Singh stood near the podium, his gaze fixed directly on her with that sharp, unimpressed stillness.
"Main pichhle paanch minute se kya explain kar raha hoon?" he asked
"Sir... woh..." she started, buying time, eyes flickering briefly toward Meera.
Aaravi swallowed, forcing her posture straighter.
"Stand up," he said.
She exhaled quietly and pushed her chair back, standing up as the weight of multiple glances settled on her from different corners of the room.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said, quieter this time.
""Ms. Patil."
"Yes, sir," she responded quickly, lifting her head.
"For someone who is usually far more engaged," he said,
, "You seem rather... detached today."
"I'm listening, sir," she said.
"Are you?" he asked
"Then perhaps you can explain something simple."
Aaravi's fingers tightened around her pen.
"Differentiate between 'state capacity' and 'state legitimacy'," he said, folding his hands behind his back as he took a slow step forward. "And do try to be precise."
Her lips parted slightly as she tried to gather the words, but they came out disjointed.
"State capacity is... um... the ability of the state to implement policies," she began,
"and legitimacy is... how people... accept the state's authority..."
Singhania watched her, expression unchanged.
"And?" he prompted.
Aaravi blinked.
"And... uh..."
"Ms. Patil," he said, his tone sharpening just a fraction, "this is not a first-year concept you can afford to fumble."
"Legitimacy is about... public trust, sir. Whether people believe the state has the right to govern."
"Basic," Singhania replied immediately, "Incomplete, but basic."
"Let me make this clear, state capacity without legitimacy results in coercion, and legitimacy without capacity results in failure. A functioning state requires both."
Aaravi lowered her gaze back to her notebook, though she wasn't writing anymore, her pen hovering uselessly over the page as a faint heat crept up her neck, settling uncomfortably at the back of her ears.
Beside her, Meera nudged her foot lightly under the desk.
"Focus," she muttered under her breath.
Aaravi gave a barely-there nod.
For the next several minutes, she forced herself to track the lecture, copying down key terms, underlining phrases, but her body had started to give in ways she couldn't fully control, her shoulders growing heavier, her blinks lasting just a second longer each time.
She pressed her fingers into her temple for a moment, inhaling slowly, trying to push through the fog, but it lingered stubbornly, wrapping around her focus until even holding her posture upright felt like effort.
"Now, if we examine post-colonial states," Singh continued somewhere in the distance, "we see a recurring pattern of"
Aaravi's head dipped, slowly her eyes closed.
Her pen slipped from her fingers, rolling slightly across the desk, her body finally surrendering to the exhaustion it had been fighting since morning.
Her cheek rested against her folded arm.
"Ms. Patil." Professor Singh called out.
The voice cut through sharply.
"Shit," Meera whispered under her breath, nudging Aaravi's arm quickly. "Aaravi, gadhi.. uth"
Aaravi stirred faintly, her brows knitting as consciousness dragged itself back slowly, and she blinked against the light, disoriented for a split second before reality snapped back into place all at once.
" Akshay chal hat naa yaha se.. Thappad dungi aapko"
"Sir dekh lenge..." she whispered, barely audible
"aapko sharam nahi aati kya... itne bade ho..."
A choked sound burst out from the backbench. Someone dropped a pen. Meera slapped her hand over Aaravi's arm. "AARAVI"
But Aaravi frowned in her sleep, shaking her arm off weakly like someone brushing away a nuisance.
"Subah se tang kar rahe ho..." she continued,.
A few people had fully turned around now, some were snickering holding back laughter.
"Yeh kya chal raha hai bhai" Aaravi exhaled, softer now, almost mumbling into her arm.
"Raat ko bhi sone nahi diya aapne..." she added.
"toh thoda pyaar se bhi bol sakte ho..." Aaravi finished softly, her voice dropping into something dangerously close to a whine.
"Har baat pe 'again, again'... main robot hoon kya..."
"Kitni baar... main thak gayi hoon... haath bhi dard kar rahe the..."
" MISS PATIL" Professor Singh said loudly, his patience thinning out.
Meera slapped her arm. "UTH"
But Aaravi only scrunched her nose slightly, clearly annoyed.
"Sirf orders dete rehte ho..." she mumbled.
"MS. PATIL!"
This time it was louder extremely sharp.
Aaravi jolted and her eyes flew open, her body jerking upright so abruptly her chair screeched against the floor.
She straightened abruptly.
"I'm— I'm awake, sir," she said quickly, her voice rough.
"Sorry?" he cut in, voice rising just enough to slice through the room. "You fall asleep in my class, and then proceed to.. " he paused, jaw tightening, clearly choosing not to repeat what she had said in front of everyone, "whatever that was?"
"This is not your bedroom," he said."If you are incapable of remaining attentive, you are free to leave."
"Sir, I.."
"I am not interested in excuses," he cut in, his gaze sharp. . "You are one of the few students in this class I expect better from, which makes this even more disappointing."
"Sorry, sir," she said quietly.
She stood, the sound of her chair scraping lightly against the floor as she slung her bag over her shoulder, she walked toward the door, and she could feel the weight of every gaze following her.
—----------------------------------------------
That evening at the Banerjee flat, Mishti's moved between the kitchen counter and the small dining table, where Pihu sat cross-legged on her chair with a notebook open in front of her, her pencil tapping restlessly against the page as she squinted at a half-finished line of homework.
"Pihu, line ke andar likho beta," Mishti said without looking up, her hands moving with practiced ease as she chopped vegetables, the rhythmic thak-thak of the knife against the wooden board punctuating the quiet of the room. "Aur yeh kya hai? '"g" aise trace karti ho?
Pihu huffed, her small brows knitting together as she leaned closer to the notebook, erasing something with aggression. "Maa, maine likha tha na... aap hi bol rahe the change karo," she muttered.
"Main bol rahi thi correct karo, poora essay rewrite karne ko nahi bola tha," Mishti replied, finally looking at her, one eyebrow lifting slightly as she wiped her hands on the edge of her dupatta. "Aur pencil todne se answer better nahi ho jaata."
"Pencil khud toot gayi," Pihu defended instantly, holding up the broken tip, before sliding off the chair and padding toward her mother. "Mumma, main homework complete kar liya na... toh aaj pizza milega you said naa yesterday?"
Mishti let out a quiet sigh, the kind that carried both affection and resignation, as she crouched slightly to meet her daughter's hopeful gaze, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Pihu's forehead. "Pehle poora complete dikhao, phir decide karenge. Half homework pe half pizza milta hai, yaad hai, Friday ko milega pizza?"
"Half pizza kaise hota hai?" Pihu asked suspiciously.
"Exactly," Mishti said dryly, turning back toward the stove, where the oil had just begun to heat, the faint crackle starting to build. "Isliye poora karo."
Pihu groaned under her breath but shuffled back to the table, dragging the chair noisily across the floor before climbing onto it again, her legs swinging as she resumed writing, though every few seconds her gaze flickered toward the kitchen as if monitoring the progress of dinner.
The doorbell rang just then, sharp and unexpected, cutting through the rhythm of the evening.
Mishti paused mid-motion, the ladle hovering over the pan, her brows drawing together slightly. "Iss time pe kaun aaya?" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Before she could even set the ladle down, Pihu had already jumped off the chair, her homework completely forgotten as she sprinted toward the door with all the urgency of a four-year-old who believed every doorbell held the possibility of something exciting.
"Mumma main dekh ke aati hoon!" she announced unnecessarily, her small hands fumbling with the latch before swinging the door open..
and the moment she saw him, her entire face lit up in instant recognition.
"MAAAN UNCLEEEE!" she shrieked, her voice echoing down the hallway as she launched herself forward without hesitation.
Abhimanyu barely had time to shift the weight of the grocery bags in his hands before she collided into him, his reflexes kicking in just enough to drop one of the lighter bags to the floor and catch her mid-jump, lifting her effortlessly as a grin spread across his face.
"Arre arre, reporting without permission?" he said, adjusting her on his hip as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Cadet Pihu, discipline naam ki cheez hoti hai."
"Main toh bas dekh rahi thi kaun hai," she said proudly, clearly unconcerned about any disciplinary expectations, her fingers already tugging at his collar. "You're very late!!"
"Late?" he repeated, feigning offense as he stepped inside, nudging the door shut behind him with his foot. "Main toh perfectly on time hoon. Tum log hi jaldi ho gaye."
Mishti appeared in the doorway a second later, her expression shifting to immediate irritation the moment her eyes landed on him standing there so casually, one child in his arms and grocery bags dangling from the other hand as if he belonged there.
"Of course," she said flatly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, her gaze flicking from him to the bags and back again. "Shaam shaanti se nahi nikal sakti thi Abhimanyu Khanna ke bina."
Abhimanyu glanced up at her, entirely unbothered by the tone, his smile tilting slightly as he lowered Pihu back onto her feet. "Good evening, Mirchi," he greeted,
"Mood dekh ke lag raha hai aaj tadka thoda extra hai."
"Mirchi mat bolo mujhe," Mishti shot back instantly, pushing herself off the frame and stepping forward, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the items in his hands. "Aur yeh sab kya hai?"
He bent down, picking up the bag he had dropped earlier before walking past her into the kitchen, placing the cans and packets onto the counter one by one.
"Ingredients," he said simply, tapping the top of one of the cans. "Tomato puree, cheese... basic necessities."
"Basic necessities?" Mishti repeated incredulously, following him into the kitchen. "Main already sabzi bana rahi hoon. Tumhe aate hi kitchen takeover karna hota hai kya?"
she argued, gesturing toward the stove. "Ghar mein sabzi ban rahi hai, normal logon ki tarah dinner hoga—"
"A a ah," he interrupted softly, the sound deliberate, almost playful, as he tilted his head slightly, watching her with that infuriating calm that always made her more annoyed. "Statement complete karne se pehle thoda recall kar lo."
Mishti paused, clearly irritated. "Kya recall karun?"
Abhimanyu didn't answer immediately. Instead, he shifted his gaze toward Pihu, who had quietly wandered into the kitchen and was now peeking curiously into the grocery bag, her small fingers already reaching for the packet of cheese.
"Cadet," he said, his tone suddenly formal. "Aapko kisi ne promise kiya tha kuch?"
Pihu's eyes widened slightly, as if she had just been reminded of something extremely important, and she turned to look at her mother with dramatic urgency. "Mummaaaa, aapne bola tha na... agar main homework time pe finish karungi toh pizza milega!"
Mishti froze for a fraction of a second, her expression flickering between realization and annoyance as she slowly turned back toward Abhimanyu, who was now watching her with the faintest hint of satisfaction.
"Tumne usse yaad dilaya.. Maine friday bola tha naa pihu!?" she accused.
"Main bas sachai ko surface pe la raha hoon," he replied innocently, though the slight curve of his lips betrayed him completely. "Aur waise bhi, promise kiya tha na last weekend this week??"
"Main plan kar rahi thi weekend pe—" she began, but he cut in again, softer this time.
"Usne aaj homework time pe complete kiya," he pointed out, glancing at Pihu's notebook on the table. "Deal aaj ka tha."
Pihu nodded vigorously, clutching the cheese packet like evidence. "Maine kiya! Bilkul time pe!"
" Haan Haan Aur Bigaado Isse!" Mishti snapped at Abhimanyu.
She pressed her lips together, clearly losing the argument as she turned back toward the stove with a sharp exhale. "Fine. Toh main bana deti hoon pizza."
She reached for the pan again, but before she could even touch it, Abhimanyu stepped forward, his hand lightly but firmly catching her wrist.
"Aaah," he repeated, softer now, almost amused, gently pulling her hand away from the stove. "Aaj tum nahi."
She blinked, caught off guard more by the gesture than the words, her gaze flicking briefly to his hand before pulling her wrist back. "Excuse me?"
"Aaj kitchen ka control change ho raha hai," he said calmly, turning off the stove with an easy flick before gesturing toward the chair behind her. "Aap please wahan baithiye."
"Main kyun baithun?" she demanded, though there was a slight hesitation now, as if she wasn't entirely sure how this had escalated.
"Kyuki aapne promise kiya tha," he said, as if that explained everything, before glancing at Pihu and straightening slightly, his tone shifting once again into that mock-official seriousness. "Aur aaj ke liye kitchen officially handed over hai to...."
He paused for effect, looking between them before continuing.
" Drum roll please......."
"—Cadet Pihu aur Lieutenant Abhi ko."
Pihu gasped in delight, instantly standing straighter as if she had just been promoted on the spot. "Main cadet hoon!"
"Bilkul," he confirmed, nodding once. "Aur cadet ka pehla mission hai—pizza banana."
Mishti stared at both of them for a long second, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and reluctant amusement, before she let out a small, defeated sigh and dropped into the chair behind her, folding her arms as she leaned back.
"Yeh disaster hone wala hai," she muttered.
Abhimanyu glanced at her over his shoulder as he rolled up his sleeves, already pulling the ingredients closer, a faint smile lingering on his face.
"Trust the process, Mirchi," he said lightly. "Navy trained hoon. Kitchen sambhal lenge."
Mishti let out a scoff from behind them. " Haan Haan Sanjeev Kapoor ka budget edition, Bas bolte raho, end mein mujhe hi saaf karna padega sab."
Sabse pehle," he said, placing a bowl in front of her and sliding the flour packet closer, "cadet ko samajhna hoga ki mission ka base kya hai. The foundation of pizza starts with great dough"
Reaching for the flour and pouring a measured amount into the bowl before handing her a small cup of water. "Ab dheere dheere daalna. Ek saath nahi. Warna yeh glue ban jayega, pizza nahi."
"Glue pizza?" she repeated .
"Bilkul," he said gravely. "Aur phir Mumma humein kitchen se permanently ban kar degi."
From her seat, Mishti let out a quiet scoff, though the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself as she watched the two of them, her chin resting lightly against her hand. "Already consider kar rahi hoon," she muttered. "Floor ka haal dekh ke lag raha hai tum log cement ka mil jhun kar rahe ho."
Pihu nodded seriously, as if absorbing highly classified information, her small hands already reaching for the packet before pausing midway. "Kitna daalna hai?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Thoda sa nahi," he corrected, guiding her hand gently as he helped her tilt the packet, letting the flour fall into the bowl in a soft, powdery stream, "proper amount. Warna dough ya toh chipkega ya pathar ban jayega."
Abhimanyu didn't look at her immediately; instead, he reached for the small bowl of water, pouring a little into the flour before beginning to mix it with slow, deliberate movements, his fingers pressing and folding with surprising familiarity. He noticed Mishti glaring at them both. " Oho Mirchi , Don't underestimate the power of a common man ," he quoted. "Main kaafi versatile hoon."
"Versatile?" she echoed dryly. "Haan, dekha hai. Annoying, manbuddhi, chirkut, fattu,, overconfident, nalayak, nirlaj, obhodro, apod..."
" bas ho gaya.. Pura gaana gaogi kya?" he glared.
Pihu giggled, trying to copy his movements, the dough sticking to her fingers as she tried to fold it the way he did. "Maan Uncle, yeh chipak raha hai," she complained, holding up her flour-covered hands.
"Kyuki aap patience se kaam nahi kar rahi," he said, gently peeling the dough off her fingers and guiding her hands back into the bowl. "Dekho, aise press karo, phir fold, phir press. Dheere."
As he leaned slightly closer to show her, the sleeves of his shirt shifted higher along his forearms, revealing the defined lines of muscle beneath, the fabric bunching just enough to draw attention to the easy strength in his movements as he worked the dough with controlled pressure.
Mishti noticed; her eyes accidentally landing on his arms.
"Waise," Abhimanyu said casually and definitely.
"Aise kaam karne se hi muscles maintain rehte hain."
Mishti didn't look up from where she was idly tapping her fingers against the table. "Mujhe bilkul interest nahi hai tumhare muscles mein."
"Strange," he replied, he rolled his sleeves up just a little higher, the motion slow enough to be noticeable without being obvious. "Usually people appreciate them."
"Kaun log?" she asked immediately.
"Generally ," he said smoothly. "Aur aap bhi kar sakti ho. Main mana thodi karunga."
She let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking her head. " khud ki tareef karte hue thakte nahi ho?"
"Jab facts ho toh thakna kaisa," he said, his tone light but unapologetically confident as he leaned back slightly against the counter, wiping his hands on a cloth before stretching his arm just enough to flex it absentmindedly. "dekh lo. Structure, definition... sab hai."
he paused, tilting his head slightly as his gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary, his voice dropping just enough to shift the tone, "—tum itni dhyan se dekh rahi thi, toh laga tujhe interest hai."
Mishti straightened slightly, caught off guard for a fraction of a second before recovering, her expression sharpening. "Main dekh nahi rahi thi."
He shook his head in mock pity, " ooof... tumse toh rah hi nahi jara.. Mujhe taade bina"
" Bichaari," he said, shaking his head.
" Aur tumhe blame bhi kaun kar sakta... matlab itna handsome hoo main yeh muscles... yeh biceps, yeh veins. Aur upar se mera chehra"
" ladkiyan toh dekhte hi control kho jaate... itna ki-
A sudden, explosive sneeze cut straight through the sentence.
Pihu's tiny body jerked forward with the force of it, her flour-covered hands slipping against the edge of the bowl as a soft cloud of dry flour burst upward into the air, scattering wildly and directly into Abhimanyu's face.
"ACHOOOOOOO!"
Across his hair, his eyelashes, the sharp line of his jaw was now completely dusted white with flour.
"Bas," Mishti burst out laughing. She managed between breaths, shaking her head as she looked at him, utterly ruined. "Control kho diya. Shakal toh dekh apni"
" Ekdam Nishi Daak se mil rahi hai" she laughed louder.
" Dekho toh sahi" she smacked his arm.
"Very funny," he said dryly.
But the sound of a small, shaky sniffle broke through the moment, and they both turned towards Pihu.
Pihu stood frozen on the stool, her lower lip trembling, her eyes already glossy as she looked between them, panic settling in.
"I—I'm sorry..." she stammered, her voice wobbling as she wiped her nose clumsily with the back of her hand. "Maine—maine galti se—main—"
"I didn't mean to..."
The irritation from Mishti's antics, disappeared in Abhimanyu's face. His posture softened as he stepped towards her.
"Arre, arre..." he said softly, his voice lowering completely now, and he gently held her wrist to stop her from rubbing her face further. "Kya hua? Itna sa toh hai."
She shook her head quickly, tears spilling over now. "Ganda ho gaya... aap... main—"
"Main theek hoon," he interrupted gently, crouching slightly so he was at her eye level, not caring in the slightest about the flour still clinging to his face. "Dekho."
He exaggeratedly dusted his shoulder off.
"Kuch bhi nahi hua. Aur waise bhi," he added, a faint smile returning "chef log aise hi messy hote hain."
"Promise?" she whispered.
"Pakka promise," he said immediately, holding up his little finger toward her.
She hesitated for half a second before hooking hers around it, her grip small but tight.
He giggled before brushing some flour on her face as well.
Then, regaining her usual fire, Mishti pushed off the counter and folded her arms again sassily.
"Waise," she said, raising an eyebrow, "itna handsome face tha na... ab properly garnish ho gaya."
" aata bhi ache se lag gaya" she smiled on purpose.
Abhimanyu glanced at her, unimpressed.
"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Mirchi."
"Flour is not a good look on you Abhi," she shot back instantly, mocking him, sticking out her tongue.
He smirked.
"Phir bhi you're looking at me only right?"
Mishti rolled her eyes, brushing imaginary flour off her hands as she stepped closer, her chin lifting in that familiar defiance that always made him want to push just a little further.
"Main dekh nahi rahi," she muttered, though her voice had lost some of its earlier sharpness.
"Accha?" he tilted his head, the faintest smirk returning as he leaned just slightly forward, close enough that the distance between them felt deliberate rather than accidental, "toh phir yeh kya hai?"
"UGH YOU ARE IMPOSSIBLE " she shot back, lifting her hand before she could stop herself and brushing at the flour on his cheek with a quick, irritated swipe, "poora aata ka dabba ban gaye ho."
Her fingers barely made contact before she tried to pull away, but Abhimanyu caught her wrist lightly, his grip firm enough to stop her , and for a second neither of them spoke, the kitchen noise fading into the background.
"Careful," he murmured, glancing at her flour-dusted fingers, "ab tum bhi messy ho jaogi."
"Already ho chuki hoon," she replied, attempting to tug her hand free, but the movement only brought her half a step closer, the edge of her saree brushing against his arm, the faint scent of flour and something warmer, softer, settling between them.
"Good," he said quietly, almost absentmindedly, before letting go of her wrist.
"Pihu, idhar aa—"
She didn't finish.
Because in the next second, Abhimanyu reached for the flour again, quick and unceremonious, and before she could react, he flicked a small handful straight toward her.
The white dust caught her mid-turn, scattering across her cheek, her hairline, the edge of her lips, and for a heartbeat she stood completely still, processing, before her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Abhimanyu—"
He didn't even try to hide the grin this time.
Something in her snapped and she lunged forward like she had many times, grabbing the nearest handful of flour and aiming straight for his face.
"Tum—!"
He caught her wrist again, laughing now.
But in the middle of the movement her foot slipped against the thin layer of flour scattered across the floor, the shift sudden as her balance tipped forward.
There was a split second where both of them realized it at the same time.
And then she fell.
Except she didn't hit the ground because Abhimanyu moved instinctively, snaking his arm around her waist, reaching out to steady her, and instead of stopping the fall it only pulled him off balance too, their weight colliding as they went down together, the impact muffled by the thin rug beneath them and the soft thud of breath knocked out in surprise.
Mishti's hand had landed against his chest, fingers curled instinctively into the fabric of his shirt, her other arm braced awkwardly between them, and Abhimanyu's grip had shifted from her wrist to her waist in the fall, his palm spread against the curve of her side, holding her steady without thinking.
The kitchen sounds dulled into the background, the faint clatter of something rolling off the counter barely registering as Mishti became suddenly, acutely aware of how close they were, her breath catching in a way that had nothing to do with the fall, her gaze lifting slowly to meet his.
A streak of flour ran across her cheek.
Without really thinking about it, Abhimanyu lifted his free hand and brushed it away, his fingers moving gently, slower than the moment demanded, tucking a loose strand of her hair back from her face as his touch lingered just a second longer than necessary.
"Sorry," he said quietly,his voice lower now.
Mishti swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, her fingers tightening slightly against his shirt before she forced them to loosen.
"It's fine," she replied, though her voice came out softer than she intended, her eyes dropping briefly before lifting again.
His hand shifted, accidentally, as he adjusted his hold to help her sit up, but his palm slid just beneath the edge of her pallu, brushing against the bare skin of her waist, the warmth of it startling in its suddenness, his fingers grazing along the curve before he froze.
Abhimanyu pulled his hand back immediately, as if the realization had caught up with him all at once, his expression tightening, the ease from moments ago gone.
"I—" he started, then stopped, exhaling once as he ran a hand through his hair,
. "Sorry. That was— I didn't—"
Mishti pushed herself up quickly, adjusting her pallu in one swift motion, her heartbeat uneven as she avoided looking at him directly.
"It's okay," she said again, faster this time, though the words carried a different weight now, her fingers smoothing her saree unnecessarily as she stood.
"Main— main dekh leti hoon Pihu ko," she said, though Pihu was nowhere in immediate distress, the excuse thin but necessary as she turned slightly away.
"Hmm," he nodded, equally unsure, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat up.
"ATTACK!"
A burst of laughter and chaos broke straight through it as Pihu came charging toward them, both hands full of flour, which she threw into the air without warning, the powder exploding over both of them in a soft white cloud.
Mishti gasped, instinctively shutting her eyes as the flour settled across her hair and shoulders, while Abhimanyu let out a surprised laugh, blinking through the sudden assault.
"Cadet!" he exclaimed, wiping at his face.
Pihu stood in front of them, completely delighted, her tiny hands on her hips as she looked at the mess she had created.
"Ab sab same same!" she said proudly, giggling.
Mishti opened her eyes, staring at Abhimanyu for a second before a reluctant smile broke through, the absurdity of the situation pulling her out of whatever that moment had been.
"Perfect," she muttered, shaking her head as she brushed flour off her arms. "Ab poora ghar bakery ban gaya hai."
Abhimanyu huffed out a quiet laugh, glancing between her and Pihu, something softer settling back into his expression as he pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand toward Pihu.
"Mission successful, Cadet," he said.
Pihu beamed.
—--------------------------
That night , after college and coaching, Aaravi got down from her auto-rickshaw and stepped out at Mahalaxmi Society. As routine, she greeted Sanjay Kaka the watchman, and stepped into the lift pressing the button for the 8th floor.
As soon as she stepped into the corridor of the 8th floor, Pihu collided into her legs with full force, her petite arms wrapping around Aaravi's knees.
"Aaru mami!"
Aaravi laughed despite her terrible college day, bending down to scoop her up, pressing a kiss to her cheek while adjusting the strap of her bag higher up her shoulder so it wouldn't slip off.
"Arre arre, itni excitement kis baat ki hai meri jaan! Meri baby!?" she cooed, shifting Pihu onto her hip as she stepped inside the Banerjee Flat.
She spotted Mishti seated on the sofa with a cushion in her lap in the Khanna flat, , and Abhimanyu leaning back in the chair opposite her. He looked exhausted after a day's work, but that did not dim the smile on his face.
Nimmi maasi was sitting near the armrest with a cup of chai, all three of them turning toward the door when Aaravi stepped in with Pihu.
"Madam aa gayi! kaha bhatakti rehti ho aajkal?," Nimmi asked, her eyes narrowing just slightly in mock suspicion. "Aaj badi late entry hai."
"College thi, maasi, phir uske baad coaching gayi thi." she replied, placing Pihu down when Pihu began wriggling in her hands.
Mishti straightened, "Kaisa tha?"
"Normal," Aaravi said, dropping her bag onto the side table and stretching her arms briefly, "Attendance, notes, annoying couples, ek khadoos professor ... she hesitated before saying then continued.. The usual"
Nimmi tilted her head and asked.
"Waise... tumhari age kya hai beta? Matlab tum college kyu jaa rahi hoon? "
"Twenty-one," she said nonchalantly, not thinking much of what the response was going to be.
Mishti's hands stilled mid-motion, her gaze widening in shock towards Aaravi as if she had misheard something.
"Twenty... one?" she repeated, her eyebrows raised.
Abhimanyu dropped his phone completely, he moved his eyes from Aaravi to Nimmi and then back again, the 3 of them feeling uneasy.
"Matlab..." he began slowly, setting her cup aside. "Bas abhi hi... twenty-one hui ho? Itni choti"
Aaravi glanced between them,confused, her lips pressing together for a second before she nodded.
"Haan."
Mishti leaned forward now, elbows resting on her knees, her voice softer when she spoke again,
"Aur Akshay... twenty-five hai."
Abhimanyu exhaled quietly through his nose, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck nervously.
"Dekho," he said finally, "main seedha bolta hoon... thoda young nahi lagta hai yeh."
Mishti's eyes softened as she looked at Aaravi again, her voice gentler this time.
"Aaravi.. Yeh shaadi.. tumne khud decide kiya na?"
Aaravi let out a small breath through her nose, leaning back slightly against the sofa, her fingers playing with her dupatta as she held their gaze one by one.
"Haan kyu?," she said.
Nimmi leaned forward now, to respond.
"Koi pressure toh nahi tha na beta?" she added, tilting her head just slightly. "Ghar se, situation se... ya Akshay se? Matlab tum itni young ho.. Tum college.. Uska career?"
"Akshay se?" she repeated, slightly amused.
Abhimanyu raised a hand lightly, stepping in before there could be kalesh.
"Galat mat samajhna," he said quickly, "Hum log bas... samajhna chahte hain."
Mishti nodded immediately. "Haan, concern hai bas."
"Agar main honestly bolun," Aaravi began, her voice even, "toh aap log jo soch rahe ho... woh samajh mein aata hai."
"Age difference hai," she continued, shrugging lightly. "Aur main college mein hoon... toh obvious hai thoda strange lagega."
Abhimanyu studied her for a moment longer, then he spoke up
"Akshay ne push kiya kya shaadi ke liye?" he asked quietly.
"Phir itni jaldi kyun?" Nimmi pressed as well, "Shaadi... itni early stage pe?"
"Tumne shaadi apni marzi se ki hai na?" Mishti asked,
. "Koi pressure, koi force... kuch bhi nahi tha?"
"Bilkul meri marzi se maine ki shaadi," she said finally, her.
" I'm an adult.. Mai khud ke decisions le sakti hoon" she responded.
"Pakka?" Nimmi maasi cut in immediately,
"Beta, hum mazaak nahi kar rahe. Tum bahut chhoti ho... twenty-one mein log abhi graduation bhi complete karte hain."
She continued.
"Shaadi koi chhoti baat nahi hoti. Aur Akshay... woh bachpan se humare saamne bada hua hai, humein pata hai woh kaisa hai, lekin iska matlab yeh nahi ki hum sawal nahi pooch sakte."
"Dekho," Abhimanyu said, "hum Akshay ko jaante hain, trust bhi karte hain, lekin situation dekh ke concern hona natural hai. Age gap zyada nahi hai paper pe, lekin life stage ka difference hota hai... tum abhi college mein ho, aur woh already police service mein hai."
"Usne... kabhi pressure dala?" Mishti asked again, softer.
Aaravi shook her head immediately. "Kabhi nahi."
"Sure?" Abhimanyu's voice came again, calm, but his eyes didn't leave her face.
"Main jhooth bolne wali lag rahi hoon kya bhaiyya?" she shot back, grinning.
"Lag nahi rahi," Mishti said quickly, raising her hands slightly, "bas confirm kar rahe hain."
" Aur maine bhi wahi galti ki.. Choti umar mein shaadi isliye" Mishti murmured.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably, before Aaravi exhaled slowly before speaking again, with more confidence within her.
"Dekhiye," she said, glancing between all of them, "main bacchi nahi hoon. Haan, young hoon, par itni bhi nahi ki mujhe samajh na ho ki main kya kar rahi hoon."
"Aur Akshay..." Aaravi hesitated for a fraction of a second, then continued,
"Woh kabhi aisa kuch nahi karega. Aap log usse mujhse zyada jaante ho."
"Woh toh hai," Mishti admitted. "Woh ladka stupid ho sakta hai, annoying ho sakta hai, lekin..." she paused, then added, "galat nahi hai."
"Exactly," Aaravi nodded quickly, a small smile forming on her face.
"Par phir bhi," Abhimanyu added, agar kabhi bhi... kabhi bhi tumhe uncomfortable lage, ya lage ki cheezein fast ho rahi hain, ya tum ready nahi ho... you tell us. Seedha. No hesitation. Aur main toh bhaiyya hi hoon na tumhaara?"
Abhi smiled softly, and he patted her head in a brotherly gesture.
Aaravi looked at him for a moment, something soft flickering across her expression.
"Okay bhaiyya," she said.
"Promise?" Mishti pressed.
"Promise."
Nimmi maasi reached out then, cupping Aaravi's cheek briefly with a maternal warmth. . "Hum bas tumhari side pe hain, samjhi?"
"Waise..." Mishti added suddenly, shooting a mischievous glance at Abhimanyu, "Akshay ko toh main alag se pakadungi. Uske saath toh thoda maaza banta hai."
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