Rohit watched in quiet amusement as Akansha's bombastic figure swayed through the crowd, her wide hips swinging left and right before she disappeared upstairs.
Beside him, Ragini broke the silence."Sometimes it feels like you're not the Rohit I know."
He turned to her, one eyebrow arched."Is that a bad thing?"
Ragini shifted her gaze to the glowing city lights. "I don't know… but if you were still the same as before, we probably wouldn't even be sitting here."
Rohit tapped his spoon against the plate with a grin. "Then I declare it a good thing. Now.. let's dig in. I'm starving."
He scooped some fried rice, mixed it with chicken chilly, and took a bite. The flavor burst across his tongue, richer than the one he had tasted back at school. The spicy boneless chicken balls along with staple rice turned out to be the best combo. A moan slipped from his lips as he chewed in pleasure.
Ragini couldn't help but smile at his childlike honesty. "I think… you're right." She lifted her fork and joined him.
The two ate slowly, their talk drifting away from heavy matters. Instead, they shared light remarks about the evening.
Rohit recounted the day's events, even mentioning Seo_yeon; though he skipped over the awkward and intimate washroom episodes.
To his surprise, Ragini listened without the faintest trace of jealousy. She even praised his choices, encouraging his friendships rather than doubting them.
'Anything's good,' Rohit thought, 'as long as she doesn't slip into a new drama.'
In turn, Ragini spoke about her own side of things as how her family was throwing their weight behind the project, how busy the preparations had kept her. Thanks to the leverage Rohit provided, she now had a chance to build an alliance with her maternal Ahuja family.
Rohit nodded, carefully filing every detail away. Information was currency, especially with his own future plans looming on the horizon.
The talk drifted from family matters to lighter notes like small flattery, likes and dislikes, little opinions exchanged with laughter—until a sudden announcement drew their attention to the stage.
Mr. Chambani himself stood there with microphone in hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I feel the night is getting dull. How about we add a little entertainment?"
The crowd cheered, clapping with enthusiasm—even Rohit leaned forward in curiosity.
"Everyone to the floor!" Chambani urged. "If you're too lazy, dance where you stand! And if you won't even do that—at least be on your feet to clap and cheer. Anyone caught sitting will have to pay a penalty!"
The hall roared with laughter, the music shifting to match the festive vibe.
Rohit wiped his hands with a tissue, loosened his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and turned to Ragini with a grin. "Let's hit the floor. Standing still is boring."
Ragini stiffened. "What? No way. Dancing—at my age? What would people say?"
Rohit leaned closer. "Look, even aunties older than you are shaking waists without shame. Why are you getting cold feet?"
She resisted for a while, but when she saw parents much older than herself gleefully joining the dance, she finally sighed. "Fine. But I'm only standing here." She dabbed her hands clean and slipped off her jacket onto the chair.
Rohit chuckled. At first, they moved lightly in place—small sways, subtle gestures—but with fewer people around them, the awkwardness only grew sharper.
Rolling his eyes, Rohit caught her hand. "Come on. This feels weird. Let's join the crowd."
"Rohit—" she tried to pull back, but his grip was firm.
"The vibe's different when everyone's together. Trust me, sweetheart."
Her hesitation cracked into a smile. She let him lead her through the crowd and into the center of the floor.
There, Rohit loosened up. His shoulders and arms rotated like a torque, body rocking like a pendulum, legs tapping sharply with each twist and turnaround. He held out his hand to invite Ragini's move.
Her eyes sparkled as she accepted the challenge. Tucking her saree's pallu into her waist, she threw her arms outward and flowed like a serpent—her hips rolling, her body coiling and uncoiling to the beat, like a snake circling its prey. With one hand on her waist, she gave a final sharp shake in defiance.
Rohit laughed and countered with robotic steps—his body stiff, neck jutting forward, arms and legs clicking in mechanical rhythm as he marched ahead, each move syncing perfectly with the music.
Not to be outdone, Ragini shifted her style. She became grace itself—an angel descending from the heavens. Every turn was fluid, every pose effortlessly elegant. Her hands moved like a gentle breeze, while her eyes carried both beauty and a glint of mischief.
Her performance was so mesmerizing that nearby dancers stopped to watch, clapping in rhythm. Most of them were young ones in twenties and it really became a bit awkward.
Reality struck her suddenly. Heat rushed to her cheeks and she hid her face, embarrassed by the attention.
Rohit only chuckled and gestured to the crowd. "Alright, show's over, folks—don't you have your own partners to watch?"
A ripple of soft laughter moved through the crowd. Some guests exchanged knowing smiles, others raised their brows in mild amusement before turning back to their own dance. Within moments, the attention shifted away, making it normal.
Then he leaned closer to her ear. "Coast's clear, captain. Let's continue."
But Ragini shook her head. "No, I'm done."
Before she could slip away, Rohit caught her hand and pulled her back.
She gasped, stumbling into his chest. His arms slid around her waist to steady her, holding her firmly in place.
She looked up, eyes locked on his. He only tightened his hold, coaxing her to follow his rhythm.
The song shifted, softening into a slow romantic melody.
It turned out to be a perfect timing.
Rohit guided her with one hand at her waist, offering the other.
Ragini placed her hand in his, and he guided her into gentle, salsa-like steps, keeping the rhythm simple for her ease. With a playful spin, he drew her back against him, their bodies moving in perfect sync as his hands settled firmly around her waist.
She giggled breathlessly, "You're getting good at taking advantage."
Rohit whispered against her ear, "Don't you like it?"
Then he spun her around, not giving any time to respond and pulled her close with locking eyes."What's there to fear… when I'm here?"
Ragini lowered her gaze with blushed cheeks ,and then resting her head on his shoulder. Together, they swayed as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them.
And then a commotion occured.
Shouts erupted upstairs. The spell broke. Rohit's eyes snapped toward the noise.
Akansha Mittal stood there—reeling from a slap across her face. Shock rippled through the crowd as her husband and stepson stood by, with subtle smug smiles painted on their lips.
Mr. Mittal scrambled into damage control mode, bowing and apologizing, while Jayesh Mittal helped his mother retreat in sobs.
The hall slowly settled back to normal, but Rohit's gaze lingered on the exit.
Beside him, Ragini whispered unbothered, "How are you dancing so well? When did you learn this?"
Rohit brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. "Who knows? Maybe I just wanted to impress a certain someone."
Her laugh was soft, girlish. She hugged him tightly.
But Rohit's eyes were still on the door, where Akansha had disappeared, with tears streaking her face.
His gaze calculating..