Bhargav's POV
Indu was sprawled on the sofa like a sleepy cat, face down, arms limp, clearly drained from her own long day. The TV remote was barely a foot from her fingers.
I walked in, half-distracted, eyes on his phone.
"Remote," she mumbled without looking up.
"It's literally right there," I replied, not budging.
She groaned. "Exactly. Too far."
"Please?"
I shook my head, walked over, grabbed it—and plopped down on her.
"Get off me, you savage!" she shrieked.
"Ask nicely."
"You smell like outside. Move!"
"You sound like a dying walrus."
"Get off, buffoon!" she half-yelled, her voice muffled into the cushion.
I stayed there, adjusting myself like I was settling into a beanbag. "You're warm. Slightly annoying. Perfect backrest."
Indu kicked her legs, clearly not putting in real effort to push me off. "You smell like that awful citrus soap again."
"Sorry, not all of us bathe in essential oils and floral regret," I said, finally rolling off her and grabbing the remote to flip through a few channels
"You sound like someone who should be on the terrace right now, not annoying me!"
That made me freeze. Slightly.
She rolled over and smirked. "You're going, aren't you?"
I didn't reply. Just cleared my throat, got up, and left the room with an awkward shuffle.
Indu cackled behind me.
I headed to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out the small box I'd bought on the way home.
Butterscotch.
Two spoons.
One sky.
—
Siri's POV
I cleared the dinner table with more enthusiasm than usual, my movements fast but deliberate. Amma watched me with an arched brow. Nana sipped water with a barely concealed smirk.
No one said anything.
They didn't need to.
I slipped out, phone in hand, and climbed the familiar stairs up to the terrace.
The air was cooler now. Crisp. The kind of evening breeze that whispered promises and smelled faintly of night jasmine and city dust. The sky was painted in navy and silver, stars peeking out like they were curious.
I wrapped my arms around myself, not out of cold, but because I needed something to hold onto. Something to anchor the quiet thunder in my chest.
He said he'd bring dessert.
I wondered if he knew my favorite.
And just like that, a soft thud echoed near the entrance. I turned.
There he was.
Bhargav. Shirt slightly crumpled. Hair messier than usual. Breathing just a bit harder like he'd taken the stairs two at a time. In one hand, he held a paper bag. In the other—two spoons.
"You're late," I said.
He lifted the bag. "Traffic. And... hunting down your dessert."
I raised a brow. "My dessert?"
He smirked and pulled out the box.
Butterscotch.
I stared. "How did you—?"
"Indu," he replied, sitting beside me. "You were yelling about how chocolate is overrated once. She remembered."
"You remembered that?"
He shrugged, handed me a spoon. "I have a strong memory."
I took it. Smiling. "Creepy. But impressive."
I couldn't stop myself and pulled the box from his hands.
"You're like an icecream-zombie." He chuckled.
"Shut up." I rolled my eyes with embarrassment. He just stared at me. Silent.
We ate in silence. The kind of silence that fills, not empties. The stars above blinked slowly, the night breeze brushing against our arms like a secret passed from air to skin.
The ice cream was slightly melted. Sweet. Familiar. Like comfort in a cup.
Eventually, I asked, "You never talk about that night."
He didn't pretend not to know which one.
"The night you found out about her."
He paused.
"It didn't hit me like it should've," he said finally. "Maybe because... it wasn't the first time I got rejected."
I turned to him. "Who was the first?"
He stared ahead. "Someone close. I never told her. Just... stayed quiet."
"She never knew?"
"Nope."
"What a waste. I bet she would've liked you."
He snorted. "She liked someone else. I didn't stand a chance."
I leaned back, eyes on the sky. "Love really is unfair."
He looked at me and said quietly, "Then you're lucky."
I frowned. "How does that make sense?"
"Because if you're unlucky... and you ended up with me, then I must be your good luck."
My heart stopped. My skin flushed.
I shoved his arm. "Stop flirting!"
"I'm not."
"You so are."
"That was a fact."
"You're impossible."
"But you're smiling."
I was. And it felt like the first real smile in a long, long time. "I'm cold."
"You're lying."
I turned to him, eyes narrowed. "So are you."
"About what?"
"About not flirting."
He smirked. "Caught."
I laughed.
Not the polite kind.
Not the embarrassed kind.
A real, head-thrown-back, silly kind of laugh that made my shoulders shake.
And Bhargav—he didn't look away.
He watched me like I was sunrise.
When my laughter faded, I found him still staring.
"What?" I asked.
He hesitated. Then said, voice soft: "You look happy."
I nodded. "I am."
Another pause.
"Good."
The word held so much weight. So much relief. Like it was the only thing he needed tonight.
We sat there until the stars dimmed slightly, and the night wrapped itself tighter around us.
I leaned my head on his shoulder.
He didn't flinch. Didn't shift away.
He just let it happen.
—
Bhargav's POV
She was still smiling.
I couldn't stop looking at her.
The way her hair danced in the breeze, how her laughter lingered longer than the jokes we cracked, and how she tried to hide her blush like it wasn't obvious.
It was strange.
Not long ago, we couldn't even breathe the same air without a snide remark or a glare. And now… she was sharing her dessert with me like we'd done this for years.
One night.
That's all it took to flip the script of everything I thought I knew about her—and myself.
She turned to me slowly, the amusement fading just slightly, replaced by something quieter. Something real.
"Do you ever think about how weird this is?" she asked, voice soft.
I raised an eyebrow. "You mean eating ice cream on a rooftop at 11 PM with your ex-enemy?"
She chuckled. "Yeah. That. And… everything else."
I leaned back on my elbows, looking up at the stars, my voice dropping to match hers. "It's like we were walking two separate roads for so long. Parallel. Close, but never touching. And then one night… we tripped into each other's mess."
Siri looked down at her spoon, absentmindedly stirring the melting ice cream. "I didn't expect that night to change anything," she whispered. "I just… needed someone to sit with me. Not talk. Not judge. Just… exist."
I nodded slowly. "And I didn't expect to be that someone."
"Yeah."
We were quiet for a while. Not awkward silence. Comfortable, soul-soothing silence—the kind you get when words aren't enough and emotions do the talking.
"I was angry that night," I confessed after a pause. "Not at you either. Just… life. The way it disappoints you in such creative ways."
She glanced at me, curious. "You never looked angry."
"That's the problem," I said. "I've gotten too good at hiding it."
Her gaze softened.
"I was angry that I couldn't fix you," I continued. "Watching you cry… knowing that nothing I said would undo what he did to you—that helplessness? It killed me."
Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't speak.
I looked at her, really looked. "You broke in front of me, and I broke a little with you. But somehow, in that breaking, something new… began."
Siri blinked rapidly, trying to hold something back. Emotion? Tears? I didn't push.
Instead, I smiled gently. "That night… changed everything. Not because of what happened, but because of what didn't. You didn't pretend. And I didn't look away."
She turned to me, her voice barely a whisper. "I was scared."
"I was too."
"Still am."
"Same here."
Another pause.
"But I'm also… excited," she said slowly. "To see where this goes. To see who we become when we stop hiding behind insults and stubbornness."
I nodded. "We were so busy trying to win arguments, we forgot that we could just… listen."
She let out a breath. "Do you ever think we were fighting just to avoid something bigger?"
I gave a short laugh. "You mean this?"
She nodded.
"Maybe," I admitted. "Maybe the arguments were armor. And when that night stripped it all away… we realized we weren't enemies. Just two scared, bruised people who didn't know how to talk to each other."
She looked at me, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. "Do you regret anything?"
I shook my head. "Not anymore."
"Even though I'm older than you?" she teased with a small smile, the tension lightening.
I grinned. "Especially because of that. I've always liked a challenge."
She scoffed and looked away, but I saw the corners of her mouth twitch up.
"I don't know where this is going, Siri," I said honestly. "I don't have promises or plans. But I'm here. And I'm not walking away."
She turned back, and for a long moment, we just stared at each other.
No walls. No roles. Just… two people, slowly learning how to love again.
She nodded slowly, and whispered, "Okay."
And somehow, in that one word, everything settled. The doubts, the pain, the past.
Okay.
Under the starlit sky, with empty spoons and half-finished ice cream beside us, we sat quietly—no longer as strangers, or rivals, or broken halves…but as something new.
Something just beginning.
To be continued...