The grand iron gates creaked as they opened, the wheels of the car crunching on the gravel driveway. The ancestral bungalow stood ahead, quiet and regal — its tall arches casting long shadows in the golden afternoon light.
Mahi stepped out, adjusting her dupatta as the breeze played with the hem of her white salwar. Her parents were already unloading the bags, talking to the caretaker. One large suitcase stood near her feet.
"Beta, take this one in," her dad called, handing her a bag nearly as heavy as her.
She reached for it with her left hand — but winced. Her wrist still ached from yesterday's fall on the stairs.
Before she could say anything, a shadow moved beside her.
That same scent — musky, fresh, dangerous.
> "Should I help you, ma'am?"
Soumik's voice was barely above a whisper — right against her ear.
The way he dragged out "ma'am," the teasing lilt, the closeness—
Mahi literally blushed.
She fumbled for a second, about to protest with a soft, "No, I can—"
But Soumik had already picked up the suitcase like it weighed nothing.
He turned and started walking toward the main entrance, not even waiting for a thank-you.
Mahi followed, heart thudding, face warm.
The silence between them was thick, but not awkward.
It was charged.
Finally, as they neared the big mahogany door, she broke it.
Voice softer than she intended:
> "Soumik… do you remember me?"
He stopped just for a beat — then looked over his shoulder.
> "Of course. Who could ever forget the most beautiful princess of our lineage?"
Mahi literally stumbled in her step.
> "Huhhh?! Accha then—where were you for two whole years?"
He looked forward again, calm and composed, placing the bag down gently near the hallway.
> "I was finishing school somewhere far from here."
Simple. No details. Just like that.
She narrowed her eyes, walking closer.
> "And now… I'm guessing girls must spawn around you, right?"
A little jealousy hiding under her teasing tone.
Soumik tilted his head, looked straight into her eyes — steady, soft.
> "They're nothing in front of you."
Mahi's breath hitched.
She stared at him for a second too long.
Then let out a flustered gasp and punched his chest lightly.
> "Ahhh stoppp you—!"
His chest was solid. Way more solid than she expected.
He chuckled — the kind that vibrated deep in his throat — and turned toward the grand spiral staircase.
---
Inside the Mansion
The inside smelled of old wood and history. Chandeliers hung from high ceilings, and portraits lined the hallway.
This was her late grandfather's legacy — a silent, regal home that only came alive during Eid.
As they stood in the foyer, Mahi wiped sweat from her forehead.
Soumik looked at her, arms crossed.
Voice cool, teasing.
> "Go have a shower."
She turned to him, eyebrows raised.
> "Of course I will go," she said, lips pouting. "You don't have to tell me…"
Then mumbled under her breath, almost like a sulky baby:
"…and thanks."
He didn't reply.
Just smirked.
And watched her walk toward the staircase — the curve of her hips swaying gently with each step.
---