The weekend had begun quietly, at least in Zoya's mind. She told herself she would stay home, finish her work, and leave the thrill of Friday night behind. But Delhi, she had long learned, had a way of sneaking chaos into even the most careful plans.
She was at a rooftop café near Khan Market, sipping a caramel latte, pretending to read a book while secretly watching the rain-streaked streets below. Her phone buzzed occasionally with messages from Aarav—good mornings, reminders to eat, and the usual calm, measured love that she cherished but sometimes found suffocating.
And then she saw him.
Arjun leaned against the railing of the terrace, arms folded, looking as effortlessly dangerous as the first night she'd met him. His jacket was damp, collar turned up, and that lazy grin stretched across his face like he knew a secret the world wasn't ready for.
Zoya's pulse skipped. She looked away quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed her. But of course he had. Men like him always did.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said, his voice low and teasing, carrying a weight of amusement that made her heart thrum.
She raised an eyebrow, sliding her book shut. "You could say the same."
Arjun shrugged, as if it were the most casual thing in the world to show up wherever she happened to be. "Maybe I just like rooftops with good views… and interesting company."
Zoya tried not to smile, but the corner of her lips betrayed her. "I'm not interesting," she said lightly. "I'm mostly responsible and boring—long-distance girlfriend, perfect life, the works."
He tilted his head, studying her with a half-laugh in his eyes. "Responsible and boring… doesn't sound like you at all."
Something inside her flared. He was too perceptive, too sharp, and too infuriatingly easy to banter with. And yet, she felt a thrill in being seen, in the way he didn't let her hide behind layers of control.
"I am," she insisted, laughing softly. "Ask my fiancé. He'll tell you the same."
Arjun's grin widened, unreadable, as though he knew she was lying but didn't care. "Aarav, right? London? Calm, steady… boring?"
Zoya stiffened slightly, caught off guard by his audacity. But instead of anger, a small laugh escaped her. "Yes. That's… accurate. He's everything I should want."
"Should want," he echoed, a dangerous edge to his tone. "But you don't?"
Her throat went dry, and she looked away. The rain pattered softly against the terrace, washing the city in gray, silver, and gold. She shouldn't feel the pull. She shouldn't. But her pulse betrayed her. The wildness in her, the part she had buried under loyalty and love, stirred awake.
"I—" she began, then stopped. Words were useless here. He was like a spark in her chest, teasing her fire awake with a single glance.
Arjun took a step closer, just enough that her breath hitched but not enough to cross any boundary. "It's okay," he said softly, almost conspiratorially. "You don't have to explain yourself. Some fires can't be tamed, no matter how much you try."
Zoya swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. He didn't know her. He hadn't earned the right to unsettle her like this. And yet, she couldn't deny it—the pull toward him was magnetic, irresistible, and thrilling.
She laughed softly to cover the ache in her chest, her pulse racing with something dangerously alive. "You make chaos sound… poetic," she said.
"Only because it suits you," he replied, that half-smile teasing, challenging, and alive.
The terrace felt suddenly smaller, the city below fading into shadows. Zoya knew she should leave, should return to her safe, steady world with Aarav waiting somewhere across the ocean. But a part of her—the part that craved the thrill, the danger, the fire—wanted to stay. Wanted to see what this spark could become.
She didn't know then how many nights this spark would haunt her, how it would make her question everything she thought she wanted, or how dangerous it would feel to finally meet someone who matched her chaos step for step.
But in that moment, with the rain falling softly around them and Arjun's gaze fixed on hers, Zoya Kapoor realized something she hadn't felt in years: life could be wild again.
And maybe, just maybe, she wanted it to be.