The soft hum of the fan mingled with the evening breeze that slipped through the half-open windows. The golden light had deepened to amber by the time they decided to order dinner. Shruti sprawled on the floor near the coffee table, phone in hand, while Arjun leaned against the arm of the sofa, scrolling on his own screen. Kiran and Pragathi sat cross-legged, already debating as if this decision carried the weight of national importance.
"Okay," Shruti began, "what do we actually want? I'm ordering now."
"Biryani," Kiran said without hesitation, raising his hand like a kid in class.
"Pizza," Pragathi countered, wrinkling her nose at him. "It's game night vibes, not wedding vibes."
"Biryani is always game night vibes!" Kiran argued, dramatically clutching his chest. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me. I just don't want rice that can knock me out before we even finish a round!" she shot back.
Shruti grinned. "You two are fighting like this is a marriage proposal meeting."
Kiran gave Shruti a look. "Tell your friend to stop breaking my heart."
Pragathi smirked. "You wish."
Arjun finally looked up from his phone, amused. "Compromise. Biryani pizza."
Everyone groaned.
"No," Shruti said, laughing. "That's a crime."
Kiran leaned toward Shruti, as if conspiring. "Come on. Biryani, at least chicken fry piece biryani. Support me."
Pragathi raised a brow. "Shruti, if you love me, say pizza."
Shruti covered her face with both hands, laughing. "I hate you both right now. Let me think."
Arjun reached over and gently pried one of her hands off her face. "Just order both. Simple. No World War Three at my dining table."
Shruti sighed dramatically. "Fine. Both. And maybe some starters so you two can shut up while eating."
Kiran pointed at Arjun. "Your wife is dangerous. I like it."
Arjun smirked. "I know. She threatens me with broomsticks."
Shruti swatted his arm lightly. "Don't expose me."
Finally, with the food ordered—pizza, biryani, and a mix of starters—they settled around the table when it arrived, the aromas filling the house and making everyone forget the earlier argument.
Kiran reached for the pickle jar, holding it out toward Pragathi with a small smile. "Pickle?"
Pragathi crossed her arms, leaning back. "Feeding me already? Wow. We just met."
Shruti nearly choked on her water, eyes glimmering with mirth. She glanced at Arjun, whose lips twitched.
Kiran, unfazed, shrugged. "Hey, offering food is how I show affection. Ask Arjun—I've been flirting with him for years."
Arjun snorted. "Unfortunately true."
Pragathi laughed softly, then took the jar. "So I should feel special, huh? Breaking your pattern?"
Kiran's tone dropped, playful but warm. "Maybe you're worth it."
Shruti blinked, shooting Arjun a look that said Did you hear that? Arjun shook his head slowly, smiling to himself.
Pragathi picked up a piece of paneer fry, thoughtful. "Careful. Say too many nice things, I might start expecting them."
Kiran leaned in just a little. "And if you do?"
She chewed slowly, then grinned. "Then I'll know exactly where to find you if you don't deliver."
Arjun leaned back, mock whispering to Shruti, "Do you think we should leave the room and give them privacy?"
Shruti stifled a laugh. "At least until dessert's over. Otherwise, they might elope with the ice cream."
Kiran shook his head, chuckling. "You two are no help."
The meal had settled into that comfortable rhythm—the clink of spoons against plates, soft laughter between bites, the warm glow of the overhead light casting halos over their heads. The air smelled of biryani spice and melted cheese, and the plates bore the battle scars of demolished starters.
Pragathi wiped her fingers delicately on a napkin, then rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. With an air of feigned innocence, she said, "You know the senior who is Arjun's friend from your wedding?"
Shruti, mid-sip of water, lowered her glass slowly. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and the unmistakable glint of someone sensing incoming drama. Her eyes flickered between Kiran and her. "Yeah? What about him?"
Arjun waited. His brows narrowing with curiosity.
Pragathi tilted her head slightly, letting the pause stretch just long enough for the suspense to build. Then she added, glancing from beneath her lashes at Kiran, "He's hitting on me."
For a heartbeat, the room froze.
Arjun, leaning back with his glass of water half-raised, smirked. "Already? Pragathi, that's record time. I'm impressed."
Kiran, mid-chew, blinked and swallowed hard, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Who?" His voice was careful, but his ears were already pinking.
Pragathi shifted her gaze fully to him, her expression smug yet playful, resting her cheek against her hand. "You."
It was as if she'd dropped a firecracker right in the middle of the table.
Shruti let out such an explosive laugh that she had to slap both hands over her mouth, her shoulders shaking. Arjun coughed so hard on his water that he set the glass down, pounding his chest and laughing between gasps for air.
Kiran froze with his spoon in mid-air, eyes wide as saucers. "Wha—was it that obvious?" he finally managed, voice a pitch higher than usual as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.
Pragathi nodded, completely unfazed. "Mhm. Crystal clear."
Kiran groaned, half-laughing, half-wanting to disappear under the table. "Damn. I thought I was being subtle. Clearly, I need lessons."
Pragathi's smirk softened into something gentler, something that made even Shruti pause in her laughter to observe. "It's okay," she said softly. "Not like I didn't like it."
There was a beat of silence.
Arjun leaned back, grinning wide now, unable to hold it in. "Oh ho! Look at this. Should we call the priest now or after dessert?"
Shruti wiped the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. "We can just order rings with the ice cream. I'm sure Swiggy has everything these days."
Kiran dropped his face into his hands, groaning in mock agony, though his lips betrayed him with the smile peeking through his fingers. "I came here for food, guys. Food. Not this public trial."
Pragathi nudged his arm, her eyes glinting with mischief. "But you stayed for me, right?"
Kiran peeked at her through his fingers, defeated but amused. "That's the problem. I did."
Arjun whistled softly. "Shruti, we're witnesses to history tonight."
Shruti, still giggling, leaned toward Arjun, dropping her voice like it was a juicy secret. "Do you think we should leave the table and give them space? Maybe they'll confess fully before dessert."
Arjun shrugged dramatically. "If we leave, they might elope before the ice cream arrives."
That was it. The whole table dissolved into laughter again, Kiran groaning louder while Pragathi merely smiled, triumphant and unbothered.
As they continued eating, the teasing didn't stop.
"Should we get them a honeymoon package too?" Arjun asked later, pointing his spoon at Kiran and Pragathi.
Kiran groaned. "Arjun, please. Spare me."
Pragathi, ever ready, leaned closer to Kiran with a wicked grin. "You're not denying the honeymoon part, though."
Shruti clutched her stomach from laughing too hard. "I swear, my cheeks hurt."
The meal stretched on, the food slowly disappearing, but no one was in a hurry to leave the table. The house, once quiet and unfamiliar, felt alive now—echoing with shared stories, easy friendship, and the kind of laughter that stitched people together. By the time the plates were cleared, they weren't just four people who had dinner. They were a memory, sealed in warmth.
To be continued...