—SOHINI'S—
"The entire day you're glued to your phone, giggling like a schoolgirl. Wait—I'll complain to your papa," Maa warned, arms folded, eyes narrowed like I was some criminal mastermind.
What was I doing? Just texting Vedant. Ever since I got grounded for hanging out with that man—yes, the divorced, older one my heart refused to stop loving—we'd been talking nonstop. Little things. Big things. Random thoughts. Silly jokes. Memes. We talked about everything and nothing, all at once.
"Maa, my exams are over," I sighed, still typing midair. "Can I please chill for once?"
"So? Exams over means you don't study anymore? You have college!" she scolded, sweeping the floor with all the aggression of a frustrated mother. "If you have so much time, come help around the house instead of acting like a celebrity."
She shoved the broom into my hands before I could escape.
"Come on. Sweep. The. House."
She vanished into the kitchen, humming some old Hindi song, while I dramatically groaned and began sweeping at the slowest human pace possible.
Fast forward to a.m. The house was dead silent, and the only light was from my phone screen, lighting up Vedant's name.
"I haven't been out in ages," I texted.
"Why?"
"My parents are overly strict and suspicious of literally everything. I feel like I'm in prison. I hate it. Ugh."
"Why don't you sneak out?" he replied, casual like he was suggesting a walk in the park.
"At a.m.? What do you want me to do, play hide and seek with ghosts?"
"I'll take you on a bike ride. You'll love it."
My heart did this somersault thing that I've only read about in books. This was the exact scene I had imagined a thousand times—the good girl sneaking out to meet the bad boy who had a soft spot just for her.
"I'm coming," I typed back, adrenaline already rising in my chest.
I tied my hair into a high ponytail, spritzed my favorite perfume—rose and something warm, something he'd remember me by. Then, like a burglar in her own home, I tiptoed out, praying each floorboard wouldn't creak. One slow twist of the main gate. Silence.
There he was.
Vedant Khanna, leaning against his monstrous black Kawasaki. Helmet on. Black leather jacket. Black jeans.
I climbed behind him, heart pounding, fingers hesitating before wrapping around his waist. The moment I touched him, I caught the faint scent of musky cologne and danger. It was intoxicating.
"Where are we going?" I asked, trying to mask the flutter in my voice.
"I have no idea," he grinned under the helmet. "Just hold on, and enjoy the thrill."
And thrill it was. He hit the gas and we zoomed past empty streets, wind crashing against my face, my hair wild, my laughter rising. The city, asleep. And me, wide awake. I felt alive—young, reckless, romantic.
"If Papa finds out I'm gone, he'll murder me," I confessed, voice shaky.
"I'll protect you," he said without hesitation.
My heart? Gone.
I stood up on the footrests, arms spread like every Bollywood heroine, letting the wind whip through my soul.
"Careful!" Vedant shouted.
"Oh—I love this, Vedant!" I screamed into the night, my voice echoing into freedom.
He slowed down near an empty bridge, parking quietly. We started walking side by side, the air crisp and cold. His hands were tucked in his pockets.
A gust of wind made me shiver, and without a word, he took off his oversized jacket and wrapped it around me. I looked up.
"Thanks," I whispered, blushing like a teenager in a K-drama.
Under the moonlight, he looked breathtaking—shadows dancing across his jaw, eyes sparkling like he knew every secret of the universe.
"This is the craziest thing I've ever done," I giggled, skipping a step.
"What's the wildest thing you've done?" I asked.
He laughed. "Once, I put pink dye in my professor's shampoo."
I burst into laughter. "What? Why?"
He paused. The smile faded. "It was Simran's idea—my ex-wife."
Ah. There it was. The sudden drop in my stomach.
Trying to lighten the mood, I nudged him. "You sure you're not a serial killer?"
He raised a brow. "Do I look like one?"
"Yeah. Handsome serial killers exist. That's how they get their victims. You lured me here, didn't you? Gonna dump me in the river?"
He smirked. "Now that's a good idea."
I gasped and ran away, laughing. He chased after me, caught me in two strides, and pulled me into him. My face crashed into his chest. My eyes fluttered up to meet his. The world slowed. My breath hitched. I wanted to tell him.
That I liked him. That I more than liked him.
But before I could speak—
"Alright, let's go," he said gently.
I just nodded, words stuck in my throat.
He dropped me back around a.m. I crept inside like a trained ninja and slipped into bed, pretending I'd been asleep the entire time.
The next morning, I was brushing my teeth when my little brother strolled in with a suspicious grin.
"Where were you last night?" he asked casually.
I froze. "What do you mean?"
"The door was unlocked. Your bed was empty. You went out, didn't you?" he laughed, taunting me like a mini-devil. "Should I ask MOMMA?"
I turned pale. My soul left my body.
"You must have had a dream," I mumbled, nervously scrubbing my tongue.
"Mo-mmaaaaaa," he sang, skipping down the hallway.
And that was the moment I knew—my life was about to be over.