Morning sunlight spilled across the marble floor like warm honey. Birds chirped over the balcony railing. Inside the Basu mansion, silverware clinked softly and warm voices mingled over breakfast.
Everyone was seated.
Everyone… except Hiya.
Suddenly—
Tap tap tap tap…
Soft slippered feet dashed down the stairs.
"Sorry! I'm late!" she gasped, cheeks flushed, breathless.
Heads turned.
And then—stilled.
Hiya stood at the bottom of the staircase, wearing a blush-pink dress that fluttered around her like spring petals. Her long, silky hair was tied with a soft ribbon, her cheeks glowed with the rush, her eyes wide — startled and sweet.
She looked like a little bunny caught in a breeze.
Dev, mid-sip of water, froze.
His heart stammered.
The glass in his hand suddenly felt too fragile.
Hiya blinked. "Am I looking odd?"
Before anyone could reply, Dida clapped her hands in delight.
"Odd? Baccha, you look like a fairy who forgot her wings!"
Riddhi leaned in, grinning. "My fashion sense wins today."
Baba chuckled and reached into his pocket. "Your first day deserves a little confidence."
He handed her a neat envelope.
Hiya's eyes widened. "So much? I'll just… use a little for tiffin?"
Her modesty melted hearts.
At the far end of the table, Dev stood silently.
Dropped his napkin. Checked his watch.
"Three minutes. Or walk."
Hiya's mouth fell open. "But I haven't even—"
He was already gone.
Everyone groaned.
Ma muttered, "There he goes again. Mr. Iceberg."
Riddhi patted Hiya's back. "Ignore him. Eat two spoons and run. He won't leave you — even if he pretends he will."
Hiya shoveled a spoonful of upma into her mouth. Then another. Her cheeks puffed like a chipmunk mid-winter. She grabbed her bag and darted off — hair flying, mouth full, heart pounding.
Outside, Dev leaned against his black car — sharp, clean, still.
Then he saw her.
Pink bunny ears on her bag bobbing. Mouth packed like a squirrel. Running like she was chasing time itself.
A laugh escaped his lips — light, involuntary.
He quickly turned away.
Expression blank.
He didn't open the door.
Hiya arrived, panting, and knocked awkwardly with her elbow — her hands full, mouth still chewing.
After a moment, he opened the door. Wordless. Cool.
She plopped in beside him.
"Mmhmm… thaa… th-thank you… mhmm…" she mumbled around food.
Without looking, he handed her a bottle of juice.
She blinked, took it, drank gratefully.
Then, softly:
"Did the car door get stuck? Were you scared like me?"
He glanced at her.
Most people would sulk. Complain. Pout.
But she… was worried for him.
He cleared his throat.
"Don't talk."
He started the engine.
But she didn't stop.
"Why this car? Why black? Why don't you eat properly? Why do you hate girls? Why did you help me?"
"Shut up."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
"But—"
He turned sharply. "Eat your tiffin silently. Or I'll throw you out."
She folded her arms, eyes narrowed in fake drama, and stared out the window with a huff.
Dev… smirked. Just a little. Behind the wheel. Where she couldn't see.
He was enjoying this.
At the college gate, he parked without a word.
Just as Hiya reached for her bag, he pulled open the glove compartment and brought out a small box.
"Here."
Hiya opened it.
A brand new phone.
Pink cover. Delicate. Pretty. Her.
Her eyes sparkled. "For me?"
"No. For the pigeons."
She giggled, holding it like a treasure.
"But I don't even know how to use it…"
Dev took it, pressed a few buttons, unlocked it, and handed it back.
"My number's saved. Memorize it. Don't lose it."
Hiya stared at the screen, then up at him.
"And… thank you, Dev da," she whispered, her voice soft as mist.
He looked away. "Don't call me that."
"Then what should I call you?"
He sighed, hand on the gear.
"Call me by my name when needed. That's enough."
The engine roared. The car slipped away into traffic.
Hiya stood at the gate, wind kissing her cheeks, her fingers curled around a new phone and a dream that smelled like rosewater and chaos.
A girl on the edge of something bigger.
And butterflies… a thousand of them… dancing inside her.