While Mahi was still leaning on the balcony railing, watching that slow, sinful strip show Soumik just gave to the world,
a gentle tap on her shoulder startled her.
"Aren't you hungry? Everyone's downstairs!" her sister whispered, smiling.
Mahi exhaled sharply, trying to shake the strange tension in her chest.
"Yeah… let's go."
---
The dining hall was lit with golden chandeliers. A long table stretched across the room like a royal feast. Laughter, chatter, and the delicious scent of Eid delicacies filled the space.
Satin suits. Hennaed hands. Girls in flowy shararas.
But under all that sparkle and noise…
the hottest topic wasn't the food or the Eid gifts.
It was Soumik.
Whispers floated through the table like steam from the biryani:
> "I swear his body glowed in the sun…"
"Who works out like that in this heat?!"
"Did you see his back? That tattoo?"
Just then, one cousin leaned over to Mahi, voice lowered like she was talking about a celebrity.
"Hey… you came early yesterday, right? Did you talk to him?"
Mahi blinked. Her fork paused mid-air.
"Yeah. So what?" she snapped, before stuffing a bite in her mouth.
The table froze. Then giggles broke out.
"Ooooh, someone's in a mood!" another cousin cooed.
"C'mon, Mahi! Your sisters are here! It's Eid—smile for once, goddess!"
One girl leaned in and stuffed a kachori in her mouth.
"Eat, eat! You're glowing these days. Got curves and a face now—dangerous combo!"
The room roared with laughter, but beneath the noise, a few eyes glanced sideways at Mahi's figure.
They were pretty. No doubt.
But Mahi… Mahi had something else.
That soft, innocent face that made people lower their voice when speaking to her.
And that body?
A sculpted contradiction: pure and sinful all at once.
---
Later, some of the cousins dragged her into their shared room.
The AC buzzed softly as they flopped down on the bed in a pile of pastel salwars and flying dupattas.
One of them turned her head dramatically and said:
"Guys… serious talk. I'm still not over what just happened in the garden."
Another chimed in, eyes dreamy.
"From sweet barfi to spicy ramen—how did Soumik become THAT?"
Then the first girl sat up, tossing her hair with a wicked grin.
"But question is—do any of you mind if I have a bite of that spicy ramen?"
Gasps.
"OF COURSE WE MIND!" came the unified shriek.
Everyone laughed.
Everyone except Mahi.
She stood up silently, dusted off her sharara, and walked out.
Not a word.
Not a look back.
But her heart?
Racing.