Chapter 12: The High-Altitude Hustle
[System Notification: Dual Quest Triggered! — 'The Performance of a Lifetime' & 'The Survival of the Fittest']
If there is one thing more dangerous than a Mumbai monsoon, it is two Indian mothers with a shared vision. By 9:00 AM, Mrs. Sharma and Mrs. Khanna had decided that the best cure for my "altitude-therapy-requiring-viral-fever" was a "Romantic Sunrise Trek" to a nearby cliff called Lover's Point.
"It's perfect!" Mrs. Khanna beamed, handing me a walking stick. "The fresh air will clear Meera's lungs, and the steep incline will give Ishaan plenty of chances to... support her."
I looked at the mountain. It looked back at me, mocking my life choices.
"I can't go," I whispered, holding my phone like a thermal detonator. "Mr. Khurana emailed. He's demanding a video call at 10:00 AM to see my 'symptomatic face.' If I'm not on that call, I'm fired. I'll be an unemployed architect living in a tent."
Ishaan, who was currently stretching and looking far too good in hiking shorts, didn't miss a beat. He grabbed a heavy-duty rucksack and slung it over one shoulder.
"We do the call on the mountain," he said, his eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and madness.
"Are you insane? The reception is spotty, and I'll be panting like a marathon runner!"
"Even better," Ishaan smirked, leaning in. "It adds to the 'fever' aesthetic. Trust me, Meeru. I'm a doctor."
The Trek from Hell
An hour later, we were halfway up the trail. The mothers were surprisingly fit, leading the pack and discussing guest lists for a wedding that didn't exist. Ananya was trailing behind them, pretending to take "international conference calls" every time she saw a pretty flower.
Then, my phone buzzed.
[Incoming Video Call: SATAN]
"Positions!" Ishaan hissed.
We scrambled behind a large basalt rock. I sat on the dirt, trying to look "professionally ill." Ishaan threw on his white doctor's coat (which he had mysteriously packed "just in case") over his hiking gear. He put a stethoscope around his neck and stood behind me, looking like the world's most intense medical professional.
I hit 'Accept.'
"SHARMA!" Mr. Khurana's face filled the screen. He was sitting in his air-conditioned office, looking suspicious. "You don't look like you're in a hospital."
"That's because... cough... she's in a specialized recovery zone," Ishaan boomed, leaning into the frame. He looked down at me with a gaze so tender it almost made me forget we were lying.
"Meera, stay still. Your oxygen saturation is fluctuating."
"Who is that?" Khurana squinted.
"Dr. Malhotra," Ishaan snapped
"I am currently monitoring her during a mandatory respiratory walk. Meera, breathe deeply. Focus on me."
He reached out and took my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles in front of the camera. I didn't have to fake the breathlessness—my heart was doing a somersault.
"See, sir?" I croaked, leaning my head against Ishaan's solid chest.
"I'm... gasp... really struggling."
"You look flushed," Khurana noted.
"That's the fever spike!" Ishaan interjected, his hand moving to my forehead. His touch was cool and steady. "I'm taking her back to the nebulizer immediately. No more work talk!"
He swiped the screen 'End' before Khurana could protest.
The Gravity of the Situation
"We did it," I breathed, leaning back against the rock. "Ishaan, you're a terrifyingly good liar."
"I wasn't lying about the flushed face," he whispered, his hand still resting on my cheek. He didn't pull away. The sounds of the forest faded, leaving only the sound of our breathing. "You really do look beautiful when you're flustered, Meera."
The "fake" part of the relationship felt like it was melting away in the morning sun. He started to lean in, his gaze dropping to my lips—
"CHILDREN! WHERE ARE YOU?" Mrs. Sharma's voice pierced the romantic tension like a siren.
I jumped up, tripping over my own walking stick. I tumbled backward, but Ishaan lunged to catch me.
[System Notification: Physics Failure — Both Leads Falling]
Instead of a graceful save, we both went sliding down a small, muddy embankment. We rolled over grass and twigs, finally coming to a stop in a tangled heap at the bottom of a shallow ravine.
I was pinned under him, the damp earth beneath us and the canopy of trees above. Ishaan's face was inches from mine, his breathing heavy, his white doctor's coat now covered in mud.
"Meera?" he asked, his voice thick with concern. "Are you hurt?"
"I think my dignity is fractured," I groaned.
He laughed, a low, rich sound that vibrated through my entire body. He didn't move to get up. He just stayed there, looking at me with an expression that was terrifyingly sincere.
"Ishaan... we should get up. The moms..."
"Let them wait," he whispered. "For once, Meera, just stop running."
But then, the ultimate disaster struck.
From the top of the embankment, we heard a gasp. We looked up to see not just the mothers, but a group of local hikers—and one of them was holding a phone, filming the whole thing.
"Oh my god!" Mrs. Khanna shrieked. "They're so in love they're rolling in the dirt! Get a picture!"
[System Notification: Video Viral Level: LOCAL CELEBRITY]
"Ishaan," I whispered, closing my eyes in shame. "We're going to be on the neighborhood WhatsApp group by lunch, aren't we?"
"Probably," he grinned, finally leaning down to press a quick, soft kiss to my forehead. "Might as well give them a good show, right?"
[Author's Corner]
THEY ARE VIRAL! 😱 The "Dirt Tumble" is definitely going to be the talk of Gulmohar Lane! But wait... if the video goes viral, will Meera's boss see it? And did Ishaan just use the fall as an excuse to get closer?!
Meera: 50% Mud, 50% Panic.
Ishaan: 100% Smitten.
The Moms: Already picking out wedding invitations.