The next morning felt heavier than it should.
Aakrati hugged Shrisha dramatically, almost refusing to let go.
"I'll miss you," she said, exaggerating her sadness.
"It's five days, not five years," Shrisha laughed.
"Still!"
Shrisha looked at Arsh seriously. "Take care of her."
He nodded calmly. "I will."
But his eyes were already on Aakrati.
Soft.
Protective.
Almost proud.
The train station was crowded, noisy, chaotic.
But the moment they found their seats in the AC coach, it felt like the world narrowed down to just two people.
Two seats.
Facing each other.
Window side hers.
He adjusted their bags above and sat down opposite her.
The train began to move.
She watched the platform slowly disappear.
"Trip officially started," she whispered.
He leaned back comfortably. "Finally."
For a few minutes, they just sat like that.
Looking outside.
Not saying much.
There was a different kind of silence today.
Not awkward.
Anticipating.
After a while, she crossed her legs and looked at him.
"What?"
He smiled slightly. "Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I'm allowed."
She raised an eyebrow. "Since when?"
"Since you decided to hold my hand yesterday without asking."
She felt warmth rush to her cheeks.
"That was reflex."
"Sure."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You've been different since morning."
"How?"
"More confident."
She held his gaze. "Maybe I trust you more."
That sentence hit him differently.
He didn't joke this time.
He just looked at her quietly.
Then softer, "You should."
The train swayed gently.
At one sharp turn, her knee slightly brushed his knee.
Neither moved away.
Instead, she let her foot lightly touch his.
He glanced down.
Then back at her.
"You're doing that on purpose."
"Maybe."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"You're getting bold."
She matched his tone. "And?"
"And I like it."
A small smile curved on her lips.
They shared earphones after some time.
One earbud in her ear.
One in his.
She leaned a little closer so the wire wouldn't stretch.
Now their shoulders were touching.
The train noise blended with the music.
Her hair brushed lightly against his jaw when she turned to say something.
He inhaled softly without realizing.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing."
"You keep saying nothing."
"Because if I say what I'm thinking, you'll blush."
She smirked. "Try me."
He leaned even closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You look dangerously happy right now."
She swallowed.
"That's it?"
"For now."
She shifted, turning slightly toward him.
The space between them reduced.
Outside the window, fields blurred past.
Inside, time slowed.
At one point, she rested her head lightly against the seat, still facing him.
He adjusted slightly and without asking, gently moved a loose strand of hair away from her face.
Her breath caught.
That touch was slow.
Careful.
Respectful.
"You're staring again," she murmured.
"Because I can."
"Arsh."
"Hm?"
"Don't make me too comfortable."
He smiled faintly. "Why?"
"Because then I won't hesitate."
His eyes darkened just slightly.
"About what?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she slowly slid her hand across the seat… and placed it over his.
This time intentionally.
He looked at their hands.
Then at her.
She didn't look nervous.
She looked sure.
He intertwined his fingers with hers carefully.
No sudden movements.
No pressure.
Just warmth.
The train jerked lightly again, but neither of them broke the hold.
After a few seconds, she whispered—
"You won't break my trust, right?"
He didn't answer immediately.
He tightened his grip slightly, reassuring.
"Never."
And for the first time during the journey, his voice carried weight.
Later, she leaned her head lightly against his shoulder.
Not fully.
Just enough to feel him.
He stayed still.
Didn't move.
Didn't tease.
Just let her be.
The AC air was cool, but her hand in his was warm.
At one point she whispered playfully, "What if someone thinks we're too close?"
He glanced around lazily.
"It's an AC coach. Everyone is minding their own business."
She smiled. "Still."
He leaned slightly toward her ear.
"Let them think."
Her heart skipped again.
Hours passed without them realizing.
They laughed over silly childhood stories.
Talked about what they'd do once they reached.
Argued playfully about who would try bungee jumping first.
But between every laugh, there were moments.
Moments where they just looked at each other a little too long.
Moments where silence felt louder than words.
Moments where her fingers tightened around his without reason.
When the announcement for their station came, she didn't let go immediately.
He noticed.
He didn't either.
Finally, she stood up slowly.
But before moving, she squeezed his hand once.
A silent promise.
He picked up the bags.
And as they stepped off the train, she held his arm — not because she needed support.
But because she wanted to stay close.
He looked at her hand wrapped around him.
And thought quietly—
She's trusting me more.
And this time, it didn't feel playful.
It felt important.
They got off the train and took a cab.
The cab stopped in front of the hotel.
Tall glass doors. Warm golden lights. A soft instrumental tune playing in the lobby.
Aakrati looked up at the building and smiled.
"Okay… this feels expensive."
Arsh picked up their bags. "It is. Good thing we won."
She nudged him lightly. "You won."
"We won," he corrected.
They walked inside together.
Marble floors. Huge chandelier. Reception desk glowing softly.
The receptionist greeted them warmly.
"Welcome. Reservation name?"
Arsh gave his name and ID.
The receptionist checked the system, smiled again, and said,
"Congratulations once again for winning the Couple Fest Contest. We've arranged a deluxe romantic suite for you."
Aakrati froze.
"Suite?" she repeated.
"Yes ma'am. One king-size suite. As per couple booking."
Arsh coughed softly, trying not to look amused.
Aakrati turned to him slowly. "One?"
He shrugged slightly. "We participated as a couple."
She leaned closer to him and whispered, "We should take another room."
He looked at her calmly. "Why?"
"For comfort."
"Whose?"
"Ours."
The receptionist politely interrupted, "Would you like to add another room?"
Aakrati nodded immediately. "Yes, please."
Arsh looked at her for a second — measuring her expression — then turned to the receptionist.
"Yes, one more room."
The formalities were done.
Two key cards were placed on the counter.
As they picked them up, the receptionist smiled knowingly.
"Enjoy your stay."
Aakrati avoided eye contact.
Arsh just smiled back confidently.
They reached their floor.
Room 709 and 710.
Side by side.
She unlocked 709 and stepped in first.
Soft lights. Large bed. Balcony view of city lights. A comfortable couch near the window.
"It's actually really nice," she said, walking inside.
Arsh followed her in, placing her suitcase near the wardrobe.
But he didn't leave.
She turned around.
"You know your room is next door, right?"
"I know."
He leaned casually against the wall.
The silence changed.
This wasn't train silence anymore.
This was closed-room silence.
She walked toward the balcony and pulled the curtains aside. The night city shimmered.
He watched her instead of the view.
When she turned back—
He was closer.
Much closer.
"How do you do that?" she asked softly.
"Do what?"
"Stand so close without me noticing."
"I don't hide it."
Her heart beat faster, but she kept her tone playful.
"You were enjoying that one-room situation downstairs, weren't you?"
"Maybe."
She folded her arms. "You were."
He stepped forward slowly.
"Today you were very bold."
"I was normal."
"You were not normal."
"Oh? What was I?"
He held her gaze firmly.
"You have your rights on me."
She didn't break eye contact.
"Of course I have."
A slow smile appeared on his lips.
"That means I also have rights on you."
She blinked.
"No, you don't."
He stepped even closer.
Now there was barely any space between them.
"You're my girlfriend," he said softly, voice lower now. "The time you said yes to my proposal… I got my rights."
Her breath slightly hitched.
"Rights don't work like that," she whispered.
"Oh, they do."
He lifted his hand slightly but didn't touch her — just hovering near her waist.
"You hold my hand whenever you want."
She swallowed.
"You lean on my shoulder in trains."
She tried not to react.
"You look at me like I'm yours."
Her cheeks warmed.
"And now you're saying I don't have rights?"
She gathered herself and smiled.
"You don't."
He leaned closer, his face inches away.
"Okay," he said softly. "Yes, I do."
She felt the tension building.
"The moment you said yes… I got my rights."
She giggled nervously but confidently.
"You're too confident."
"And you're pretending."
He tilted his head slightly.
"You trust me."
"I do."
"And I won't do anything you don't want."
His tone changed there — serious for a second.
That made her heart soften.
She gently placed her palms on his chest.
Not pushing harshly.
Just creating space.
"We will talk about this later," she said playfully.
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yes."
She lightly pushed him toward the door.
"Now go to your room first."
He stood there for a second, not moving.
"You're sending me away?"
"Yes."
"After claiming no rights?"
She laughed softly. "Exactly."
He stepped backward toward the door.
"Five days," he said quietly.
She smiled.
"Five days."
He paused at the door and added in a teasing tone—
"Lock your door."
She narrowed her eyes. "Arsh."
He smirked.
"Relax. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
She closed the door.
Leaning back against it.
Heart racing.
Outside, in the hallway, Arsh stood for a second looking at her closed door.
Smiling slightly.
This trip had just started.
And the tension between them?
Was only getting warmer.