*For the best experience — play "Tera Ishq Bada Teekha" from Action Replayy in the background while reading *
SOUMIK**
Even after winning the second round, he didn't look too thrilled.
Glanced at the crowd. Then—slowly—toward her.
MAHI.
She wasn't smiling.
Lips jutted out in a silent pout, eyes narrowed like she'd caught him red-handed.
Not furious—just offended.
And worse, jealous.
She stood stiff, arms folded, gaze locked on him like a silent dare.
Soumik gulped.
Uh-oh.
---
From across the garden, Zara hadn't forgotten the dance.
The way their bodies touched—how she made Soumik helpless beneath her rhythm.
Now, her eyes stalked him like a lioness craving more.
Not satisfied.
Not even close.
Soumik caught her look.
Froze.
Turned away like he'd seen a ghost.
> "This world isn't safe for boys anymore…"
He whispered it like a dying prayer.
---
UNCLE
(booming into the mic, full theatre)
> "Time for Round Three!"
> "This is it! The final round!
Whoever wins this… wins the game—"
He paused.
Eyes twinkling.
> "…and a secret prize."
The crowd went mad.
Kids jumped. Aunties leaned in.
Cousins whispered with narrowed eyes like it was some scandal brewing.
> "ARE. YOU. READY?"
Before anyone could answer—
CLICK.
The lights dimmed.
Speakers cracked.
And then—
The beat.
Low. Sultry. Familiar.
---
SOUMIK**
His ears perked. His body already responding.
He turned—
She was already moving.
MAHI
Stepping forward—not rushing.
Gliding.
Like she already knew where the rhythm was headed.
He followed.
No one gave a cue.
They didn't need one.
---
SOUMIK**
(singing, lip-syncing with a little too much filmy drama)
> "Tera ishq bada teekha…"
His gaze? Unflinching.
Straight into hers.
> "Mujhe teekha achha lage…"
---
MAHI
Smirked. Of course.
And stepped closer.
> "Tere ishq mein dard bada…"
"Mujhe dard achha lage…"
Their bodies moved like they were finishing each other's thoughts—
arms brushing, shoulders dipping, steps mirroring.
They weren't dancing.
They were flirting.
In public.
Through song.
---
> "Tera ishq bada jhootha…"
> "Mujhe jhootha achha lage…"
Each line like a soft slap and a stolen wink.
They circled each other now—playful but poised.
Prince and Princess at a ballroom where the rules didn't apply.
The crowd faded.
---
UNCLE
(half-whispering to his wife)
> "I used to dance like that in college…"
AUNTY
(elbowing)
> "You used to eat chowmein behind the canteen. Sit down."
---
COUSINS
Suffering.
Clenching fists. Twitching eyes.
Mouthing the quiet screams of injustice:
> "WHY ARE THEY SO GOOD AT THIS?? 😭😤"
---
Then the music whispered the most dangerous line:
> "Tere inn labon pe…"
Soumik leaned in—just a little.
> "Mere hothon ka ab chumban hoga…"
Their noses brushed. Barely.
The space between them? Charged.
Gasps from the crowd.
Aunties gripping their chai.
But he didn't kiss.
Didn't even pause.
He pulled back.
Like a tease wrapped in self-control.
Mahi (flushed)
Turned red like Holi had come early.
But still in sync.
Still moving.
Still dancing like nothing had cracked.
---
The next verse slid in like silk:
> "Teri iss adaa pe, teri iss hansi pe…"
> "Jaan fida meri…"
Their fingers met. Slipped apart. Met again.
The tension wasn't loud.
It was beautifully dangerous.
> "Mil jaaye tu mujhko, hai yeh duaa meri…"
They turned—spun—caught each other mid-motion.
And then—
He lifted her.
One arm behind her back, one under her knees.
A perfect, slow-motion carry.
Like a fairytale finale nobody expected but everyone secretly wanted.
Freeze.
---
SILENCE.
Had they crossed a line?
Was this still a game?
Even they didn't know.
---
Then—
A beat.
A scream.
Then chaos.
---
"Oye hoyeeee!"
"Arre wah!!"
"Bas! Yeh toh film ban gaya!"
Uncles clapped. Aunties swooned. Cousins melted into defeat.
Uncle raised both hands like a judge delivering a high-stakes verdict:
> "WE CANNOT CHOOSE A WINNER!"
Aunties in unison:
> "Too close to call!"
UNCLE
(grinning)
> "It's a TIE!"
Groans. Cheers. Whistles. A standing ovation from that one overexcited cousin.
---
Then came the prize.
A golden box—shiny, tempting, mysterious.
Inside?
Foreign sweets. Local delicacies. Chocolate. Honey. Everything delightful.
Uncle announced with a mischievous shrug:
> "You'll have to share it."
Soumik leaned in. Mahi leaned too.
No words.
He picked the honey jar.
She took the dark chocolate.
---
They walked away.
Not talking.
Not touching.
But both—
smiling.
Just a little.
---