Chapter 1: The weight of realization

The city pulsed with life as Aria walked down the pavement, her arms weighed down by a bouquet of fresh flowers and a stack of birthday cards. The morning air was crisp, tinged with the scent of brewing coffee from a nearby café. The sun cast long golden streaks along the streets, and the rhythmic footsteps of strangers merged with the distant hum of car engines.

Today was Rishant's birthday. And as always, she had plans.

The bus groaned to a stop ahead, its metal frame shuddering as the doors hissed open. Aria stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the crowded interior.

Every seat was taken—except for one.

The one beside Arsh.

He sat in his usual slouched posture, hood pulled low over his head like a silent shield from the world.

The deep black fabric of his hoodie contrasted sharply against his fair skin, making his sharp yet delicate features stand out—the well-defined jaw, the straight nose, the dark lashes casting shadows under his eyes. His fingers moved swiftly over his phone screen, the faint reflection of pixelated figures illuminating his gaze.

If the bus had suddenly flipped over, Arsh would probably still be sitting there, focused on whatever game had him so captivated.

With a resigned sigh, Aria made her way over, nudging his shoulder as she sank into the seat. The bus jerked forward, and she barely caught herself from stumbling. Arsh, however, remained undisturbed, his expression unreadable.

Annoyed, she reached over and yanked off his headphones.

The sudden silence stretched between them.

Arsh blinked, as if only now realizing she existed. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes flickering with mild interest. "Yeah?" he muttered, voice low and lazy.

Aria narrowed her eyes. "Don't you have any manners?"

Arsh raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "What?"

"At least greet your older friend properly."

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, my bad. Morning, oldie."

Aria smacked his arm, harder than necessary. "Did you go anywhere during the break?"

Arsh simply shrugged, the gesture effortless. "So, you didn't either, I guess."

She groaned. "Can you not answer a question with another question?"

His smirk widened, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge. "Why not? You like it, clearly."

Aria rolled her eyes and turned toward the window, watching the city blur past. The usual sounds of honking cars, snippets of conversation, and the distant echo of street musicians filled the space between them.

A moment later, Arsh leaned in slightly, his voice quieter but laced with amusement. "So… you're going to Rishant's mom's restaurant?"

Aria turned her head sharply. "How did you—?"

He flicked his gaze toward the bouquet and cards in her lap.

"Oh." She exhaled, shaking her head. "Yeah."

Arsh gave a small nod, like this was the most predictable thing in the world. "Did you wish him already?"

"Of course." She smirked. "Did you?"

"Yeah."

Aria studied him for a second, as if trying to find a crack in his nonchalant demeanor. "Just making sure."

The bus slowed, tires screeching softly against the pavement. Arsh stood, pulling his hood further down as if shielding himself from the morning light. He gave her a short nod. "See you."

And just like that, he was gone—melting into the crowd, swallowed by the moving bodies of the city.

Aria watched him disappear, an odd weight settling in her chest. She adjusted the bouquet in her lap, her fingers tightening around the stems.

Whatever the day had in store for her, she had a feeling it was only just beginning.

Author’s Note:

Hey there, lovely readers! If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see where Aria’s journey takes her next, don’t forget to like and add this book to your library. Your support means the world and keeps the story going! Let me know your thoughts—I’d love to hear from you!

Happy reading! 💜