🌙 The Night After — Mumbai, 11:23 PM
It had been hours since Ishita left his apartment.
And Rohan hadn't moved from the couch.
The ring still sat in his hand, silver and silent, its engraving quietly echoing the sentence he couldn't stop thinking about:
"Still, I choose you."
He had read it over and over again.
Not for the message—but because she had chosen him.
Despite his background. Despite his hesitation. Despite all the messy, clumsy parts of him he had always tried to hide.
And he burned her dress.
The one she wore on her almost-proposal night.
He groaned and rubbed his face. Regret burned hotter than the steam iron ever had.
📱 12:08 AM — Rohan's Phone
Incoming Call: Ishita
He stared at the screen.
One ring. Two. Three…
He picked up.
"I'm outside."
"What?"
"Open the door, idiot."
🚪 12:11 AM – Back at Rohan's Apartment
She stood in the hallway. No makeup. Hoodie on. Hair tied messily like she hadn't planned this visit.
She didn't say anything.
Just looked at him.
And that was enough.
Rohan stepped back. She entered. Quietly. Carefully. Like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to be here.
"You didn't have to come," he said.
"I know."
Silence.
"I'm still mad," she added.
"I know."
"And you still don't know how to use an iron."
"Also true."
He smiled weakly. She didn't return it.
Not yet.
Then—
She looked at his hand.
He was still holding the ring.
"I meant it, you know," she said, voice soft. "I didn't want a perfect night. I just wanted a real one."
He stepped closer.
"I want that too," he said.
"The ring?"
"No. You."
That did it.
She exhaled. A little broken. A little relieved.
Then she walked forward and hugged him.
Tight.
Longer than necessary. Longer than usual.
Like she was holding him together.
🛋️ Minutes Later – Couch
The flat was quiet.
TV on mute. Lights dim. Just the occasional honk from the street below.
Rohan and Ishita sat close. His arm around her. Her head on his shoulder.
No rush. No agenda.
Just… them.
"I used to think love was fireworks," she murmured. "Drama. Grand gestures. Crazy confessions."
"And now?"
"Now I think it's this. Sitting beside someone who knows your worst… and stays."
He turned his head.
"Ishita?"
She looked up.
Their lips met.
No spark. No bang.
Just warmth.
Soft. Slow. Intentional.
The kind of kiss that wasn't about proving anything. Just being.
🛏️ Later That Night
They lay in his bed—awkwardly at first, then comfortably.
His hand on her waist. Her fingers brushing his.
Still clothed. Still careful.
But something shifted in the silence.
"Is this okay?" he asked gently.
"It is now."
Their first time wasn't movie-perfect. There were pauses. Nervous laughs. A bump into the nightstand. An awkward moment with a sock.
But none of it mattered.
Because it wasn't about lust.
It was about trust.
About finally letting someone see them. Fully. Flawed. Unarmored.
And still choosing to stay.
🌄 The Next Morning – 7:32 AM
Sunlight slipped through the curtain. Rohan blinked awake and turned slowly.
She was still there.
Sleeping beside him.
No dress. No drama. Just her, in one of his shirts, curled up like she belonged.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt… safe.
Not because he had her.
But because she had him, too.
END OF VOLUME 01- I HOPE YOU LIKED IT..
~AYAN
We'll continue this story afer 20th october...
Peace.