Amara'a POV:
The shadow moved slightly, catching the street light, and my stomach twisted. That unmistakable gait, the confident tilt of the shoulders… it couldn't be. Could it?
I started walking toward the figure, my steps quickening without thinking. Ethan's voice faded completely as my pulse drowned out everything else.
And then—he turned.
"Vihaan," I murmured to myself.
No warnings. No time to think. My entire world narrowed to him in that moment. I ran, the distance vanishing beneath my feet, and before Ethan could finish whatever he was saying, I leapt into Vihaan's arms, wrapping my legs around him instinctively.
He caught me effortlessly, a low laugh escaping his lips. "Ama…"
"I… I didn't expect you!" I gasped, burying my face into his chest. The world—the city noise—vanished. There was only him, solid and warm, grounding every restless thought I'd held onto for months.
"I wanted a surprise," he murmured, holding me tight. "Seems like it worked."
I pulled back slightly to look at him, eyes shining. "Worked? Vihaan, you have no idea what you do to me…I was talking, and then my eyes went to you. I was literally not expecting you. But I thought it was a familiar shadow, let's see who it is." I said, and I was lacking words to explain how I was feeling, and lacked the heart to contain myself, and my happiness, and he was listening to me as his next case depended on it.
He smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, eyes alight with amusement and something tender underneath. "I think I do. And I like it."
I only laughed, my chest still pressed against Vihaan's, utterly unable to care about anything else.
In that moment, I remembered why distance was hard, why late-night calls and virtual dinners weren't enough. He was here, and the world could wait.
We finally hailed a cab, the city lights shimmering across the wet streets, painting everything in gold and silver reflections. Vihaan slid into the seat beside me, his presence filling the small space with a warmth that made my heart flutter uncontrollably.
I couldn't stop staring. The way his jaw caught the light, the slight crease between his brows when he focused on the passing street signs, the calm confidence radiating from him even after months of hectic work—it was mesmerizing.
"You're quiet," he said softly, glancing at me.
"I'm… just taking you in," I admitted, cheeks heating. "It's not fair… you just walk in and suddenly everything feels right again."
He chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I have that effect on you, huh?"
"More than you'll ever know," I whispered, leaning slightly toward him without meaning to, my hand brushing against his arm.
The cab wound through the streets, the hum of the engine and the occasional honk fading into a perfect background for us. Every time I looked at him, it was like seeing him for the first time, only more intense.
When we reached my apartment, I realized I didn't want this moment to end. I turned to him, eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. "Don't go yet," I said softly. "Stay… just a little longer?" I kissed him on the cheek and hugged him again.
He smiled knowingly, wrapping an arm around me as we stepped out of the cab. "I think I can manage that," he murmured.
We walked up to my apartment hand in hand, the night alive around us, but my world reduced to the warmth of him beside me. For once, I didn't think about work, deadlines, or distance. I was simply… over the moon, utterly captivated, and completely his.
"Finally… I can breathe without screens or calls between us," I whispered, heart fluttering as he leaned down to kiss my temple.
He chuckled, looking at my reaction. "And I thought you'd forgotten how I looked," he teased, eyes twinkling.
Dinner was playful chaos—me flipping pancakes, him stealing bites, laughing at every little mistake I made. He admired everything about me—the way I concentrated, the little furrow of my brow when tasting the sauce, the effortless way I moved around the kitchen. Whenever I got annoyed, I would make him taste unfinished food just to see his scrunched-up face,
Later, we sprawled on the couch, knees brushing, hands finding each other. I teased him about his obsession with perfecting the sauce; he whispered about how every little detail of me obsessed him more than any case.
"Don't go yet," I murmured, pressing my hand to his chest. "Stay… just a little longer."
"I'm not going anywhere," he replied softly, voice low, protective, and intimate, making my knees weak.
We fell asleep like that, hearts beating in sync, a quiet cocoon that no world could pierce.
Saturday Morning:
We decided to see the beach sunrise, and I already got ready while he was sleeping peacefully, looking just like an angel. He looks handsome even when sleeping with messy hair, his blue eyes covered.
"Good morning, Mr. Angel," I said while kissing his forehead.
"Good morning," he murmured in a husky voice, pulling me into the bed. His arms wrapped around me possessively, holding me close. I nuzzled into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.
"Wake up, we need to see the sunrise," I said while fixing his hair.
Vihaan groaned softly, hugging me tighter. "Sunrise can wait," he teased. "I've been waiting for this… just us, like this."
I rolled my eyes playfully, tugging at his arm. "Come on, you big sleepyhead. The sun won't wait for you either."
He finally relented, sitting up and ruffling his hair with that signature smirk. "Alright… alright. But I get to hold your hand the whole way, and yes, before that, a morning kiss."
"I just gave you one," I said, getting up from the bed.
"Ama, I was sleeping, I didn't realise you were kissing. I want it again," he said, making an innocent face.
As I kissed him, he opened his eyes and looked at me with wide eyes and mouth open.
"You look drop-dead gorgeous," he said, his blue eyes practically sparkling as he held my face gently in his hands.
I laughed, a little breathless. "Stop, you're going to make me blush before breakfast."
"Nope," he said firmly, smirking, "that's my job. And honestly, I could stare at you all day."
"But, I am a little uncomfortable in it, it's a bit revealing. Should I wear it?" I asked for his opinion, which surely was given.
"Wear whatever you want. I am here for anything else to handle." He said, giving a soft lip kiss.
He grabbed my hand, tugging me closer as we walked to the door. "Fine, but you know… I get to admire the view on the way," he murmured, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss on my neck.
When we stepped onto the sand, the sky was still a deep violet, with the first hints of orange streaking across the horizon.
The waves crashed gently at our feet, and the sky slowly ignited into brilliant hues of orange, pink, and gold.
Vihaan wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. "See that? That's the start of a perfect day. And it's only perfect because we're here together."
I rested my head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat sync with mine. "You always know how to make me feel… like nothing else matters," I whispered.
He chuckled softly, kissing the top of my head. "Because, Ama, when it comes to you… nothing else does."
The sunrise spilled over us, but in that moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of us. Butterflies danced in my stomach, and I realized… no matter how far apart we were, these moments made every distance worth it.
Afternoon time:
We went to the mall for shopping, and he made me try on really questionable dresses and outfits, and in reverse, I made him try on weird outfits. Now we have decided on a movie, he went to buy tickets while I was waiting outside the counter.
My phone buzzed lightly in my bag, but I ignored it, lost in the calm after the morning's excitement.
Then I noticed a man leaning casually against a store pillar—tall, impeccably dressed, with sharp features that looked almost… familiar. My heart skipped. He wasn't Vihaan, but the resemblance was uncanny. For a split second, I froze, trying to place him.
"Could it… be?" I muttered to myself.
As I walked closer, he turned fully, his eyes locking on mine. My breath hitched. He had that same piercing gaze, the same blue eyes, not warm but cold, more like a stare, the same confidence that Vihaan carried, yet his aura was different—harder, colder.
"Amara, isn't it?" he said smoothly, walking toward me. The casual familiarity sent a ripple of caution through me.
"Yes… Do I know you?" I asked, keeping my tone polite but cautious.
He gave a faint, almost wry smile. "You know Vihaan Mickelson. Then you know me—I'm his father, Vincent Mickelson."
For a moment, I froze. Not old, but undeniably commanding, a man whose confidence could fill a room. And suddenly, I understood why Vihaan carried that sharpness in him.