MK and Shriya spent the day in quiet company, speaking in fragments. Occasional questions drifted across the room, small and careful, but mostly they existed together in silence, as if words weren't enough—or maybe too much. MK, unsure why Shriya kept her distance, edged closer.
"Can we watch a movie?" MK asked softly, searching Shriya's face. For a brief heartbeat, Shriya's expression brightened, then dulled, the light fading as quickly as it appeared.
"No… it's fine," Shriya murmured. "Can I just hug you?" Her voice shook slightly, betraying the storm she tried to hide. I'm really losing it, she thought, the shadow of doubt whispering in her mind.
MK moved closer, letting herself sink into Shriya's embrace. Silence wrapped around them, warm but fragile. MK's hand drifted to Shriya's chest, instinctively seeking the familiar rhythm of a heartbeat—but the pulse beneath her fingers was different, uneven, a cadence that belonged to someone else yet still held her attention.
A sharp ache pulsed inside MK's chest. She had hoped for the comfort of familiarity, for their hearts to still beat in tandem.
"I'm sorry, Shriya," MK whispered, her voice low.
Shriya's gaze fell. "I'm sorry too, MK." She leaned forward, brushing her lips to MK's in a soft, tentative kiss, pushing aside the doubts that threatened to intrude. She is here with me… focus, Shriya thought. Slowly, carefully, she drew MK closer.
MK allowed herself to melt into the moment, the world narrowing to the warmth of Shriya's body against hers. Shriya's hand slid to MK's waist, a touch that remembered every memory but hesitated at each step.
Their lips met again, lingering, hesitant, a gentle exploration of what once was. It was familiar, yet strange, as if rediscovering a language they had almost forgotten.
MK rested her forehead against Shriya's shoulder, feeling the heartbeat beneath her hand. It didn't sync with hers, and yet she let herself be present, willing herself to hold on, to wait.
It will take time, MK thought, but there is hope.
They moved together carefully, a delicate dance of closeness and restraint. MK wanted to remember, to imprint every detail, but not to overwhelm. She let herself guide Shriya gently, pressing for connection without fully crossing the line, just enough to remind them both of what they had been.
Shriya's body twitched subtly, a silent acknowledgment of the pull between them, but her mind still wrestled with old fears, old jealousy, old hurt.
I will win you over this time, MK promised silently
---
Morning came softly. Shriya woke first, gazing at MK's messy hair framed by the sunlight spilling through the curtains. Carefully, she pushed the strands away from her face, admiring the girl who had once conquered her heart.
"Please… don't leave me again," Shriya whispered, voice fragile but earnest. "I'll try to make everything right." She pressed a gentle kiss to MK's forehead, intending to seal her promise.
MK stirred awake mid-motion. Shriya's mouth bumped her forehead instead, sending a tiny shock of pain to her lips.
"Ouch," MK muttered, lifting her hand to feel the spot. Her eyes caught Shriya's lip, smudged with a hint of blood. "Damn! What happened?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
"You did this," Shriya said, mock-accusing, a playful glint creeping into her eyes.
"Let me see," MK reached toward her—but Shriya wasn't prepared. She lost her balance and tumbled off the bed with a soft thud.
"Ooii! You did that on purpose!" Shriya exclaimed, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.
MK, caught between laughing and concern, shook her head, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Maybe I did," she teased, reaching to help her back onto the bed.
After breakfast, they moved slowly around the small hotel room, gathering their things and packing what they had brought. The sunlight streamed softly through the curtains, making the room feel almost suspended in a bubble of calm, a world apart from their usual lives. Tomorrow was Monday, and MK had a job to return to—a reality that loomed over them like an unspoken countdown.
MK slid into the driver's seat, her hand brushing against Shriya's as she reached for the seatbelt. Shriya hesitated just a second, taking her place beside her, their fingers intertwining instinctively. The contact was quiet, subtle—yet it sent a spark through MK's chest, a reminder that despite everything, they were still tethered.
MK placed one hand on the wheel and let the other rest lightly over Shriya's, their fingers curling around each other in easy familiarity. She stole a glance at Shriya, who was staring out the window. Her eyes tracked the horizon as the capital buildings rose and fell in the distance, shimmering slightly in the morning light. There was a soft tension in her jaw, a quiet worry in her eyes, as if each skyscraper reminded her of something she wasn't ready to face.
"Thinking about work?" MK asked gently, her thumb brushing over Shriya's knuckles.
Shriya shook her head, not taking her eyes from the passing cityscape. "Not work… just… everything," she said, voice low. "Us. You. How… complicated it all feels."
MK's hand squeezed hers lightly. "I know," she said. "I feel it too."
A silence settled between them, comfortable yet charged. The car rolled past the streets of the capital, each turn and traffic light a quiet rhythm that matched the unspoken tension in the space between them. MK's eyes kept drifting to Shriya, noticing the slight furrow in her brow, the way she bit her lip almost unconsciously, the little moments that revealed her inner storm.
Shriya finally turned her gaze toward MK, offering a faint, smile. It wasn't full, it wasn't entirely confident, but it was there—a crack in the armor . MK responded with a soft smile of her own.
"Do you… want to talk about it?" MK asked, her voice careful, almost shy.
Shriya shook her head again, a tiny sigh escaping her lips. "No. Not yet. I just… need to sit with this. With you."
MK nodded, understanding. She let her hand linger over Shriya's, the gentle warmth a promise that she wasn't going anywhere. Their hearts weren't fully synchronized yet—the rhythm of past pain, fear, and distance still tugged at them—but they were close enough to feel each other's presence, to begin remembering what it was like to be together.
The road stretched ahead, and though they were returning to their ordinary lives, something had shifted between them. A tentative understanding, a fragile trust, a spark of hope. MK drove on, their fingers entwined, letting the world outside blur as they sank into the slow, delicate rhythm of being near each other again.