The sun had barely begun to dip behind the hazy sky when the car pulled up in front of the narrow alley. Its body gleamed black under the golden light, tires crunching softly over the dry gravel.
Mahi adjusted her white dupatta and peeked out of the veranda, squinting against the light. "The car's here," she called to her mother, who was busy checking the lock on the front gate.
She expected to see the regular old driver — maybe the uncle who smelled faintly of paan and mint.
But the moment the front window rolled down, her breath caught.
A man in black sunglasses leaned out.
His smile? Crooked. Careless. Confident.
His voice, smooth like slow-burning caramel:
> "Mind getting in the car, ma'am?"
Mahi blinked. For a second, her mind blanked.
He had the kind of jawline that looked like it could cut paper. His hair curled slightly at the ends, framing his clean-shaven face. And when he turned to look at her — those lips, pulled into a smirk — her pulse flickered like a loose wire.
Who the hell…?
Before she could question it, her parents and little sister came out, busy with their bags. The trunk popped open automatically.
They all slid into the backseat, but between the gift boxes and her dad's oversized luggage, there was barely any space left.
Mahi hesitated.
"Go sit in front, beta," her mother said, distracted. "We're too packed here."
She opened the passenger door and slid in beside the mystery driver.
The second the door clicked shut, he glanced sideways. The windows were tinted. Private.
His voice dropped, smooth and slow:
> "You look divine in this white salwar…"
Mahi stiffened.
Her eyes snapped to his face. His lips hadn't even curled properly when she hissed,
> "What the hell? Could you say that in front of my dad? Huh?"
The guy didn't flinch. Didn't back down.
He chuckled, deep and soft. Then murmured,
> "Why not?"
She turned her face to the window, cheeks warming. Her heartbeat was louder than the engine.
Who IS this guy?! A flirt? A new driver? Why is he so…
The car slid down the road in silence, heavy with unsaid tension.
---
The Reveal — "Soumik?!"
The mansion loomed ahead — old, enormous, and draped in shadows from the banyan trees. The Eid lights hadn't been put up yet, but the iron gate stood open.
The car eased to a halt. The driver stepped out first and opened the door for Mahi with exaggerated politeness.
He held out his hand like a chauffeur in some royal drama.
She ignored it and stepped out, still rattled. Her parents followed, thanking him.
And then, just like that — with a single smirk — he turned to her father and said:
> "Uncle, Mahi's looking beautiful today, isn't she?"
Her dad gave a short laugh, clapping the guy's back.
> "Haha! Yeah, but what about you, Soumik? You look like a different person now!"
Silence.
Mahi stood frozen.
Her world tilted.
She looked at him — really looked.
The sunglasses were off now. His eyes were dark, unreadable. That same smirk on his lips, but there was something teasing beneath it. Familiar. Almost cruel.
> Soumik?
That Soumik?
The chubby boy from childhood who barely talked to anyone during Eid?
The one she hadn't seen in two years — always tucked in some corner with snacks and an oversized T-shirt?
No f**king way.
Her mouth opened slightly. Nothing came out.
He glanced at her sideways and whispered again, so only she could hear:
> "Still divine."
---