Laughter Between the Lines
Twinkle had one rule in life.
If the world became too serious, she would become louder.
She burst into the studio dressing room without knocking, arms full of shopping bags.
"RANGEEEER!"
Rangeer winced, pulling off his headphones. "You know, one day you're going to give someone a heart attack."
She grinned. "That someone will be you."
He laughed despite himself. "What are you doing here?"
Twinkle dropped the bags onto the couch. "Shopping. Obviously."
He stared. "This is a film studio."
"And you're a fashion disaster," she shot back. "I'm fixing that."
Before he could protest, she pushed him toward the mirror.
"Stand still."
"I don't take orders," he said.
She raised an eyebrow. "You do from me."
He paused—then sighed dramatically. "Fine."
She handed him a jacket. "Try this."
He slipped it on and turned.
Twinkle blinked.
"…Okay," she admitted. "That actually looks unfairly good."
He smirked. "You're welcome."
They moved through the studio corridors, teasing each other endlessly.
"You're walking too fast," Twinkle complained.
"You're walking too slow."
"You're tall."
"That's not my fault."
She huffed. "Everything about you is annoying."
"And yet," he said lightly, "you keep showing up."
She stopped walking.
"So do you," she said quietly.
He turned to face her.
For a moment, the laughter faded.
Something warmer took its place.
Later, they sat on the studio steps, sharing coffee.
Twinkle swung her legs. "Do you ever get tired?"
"Of what?"
"Being… perfect."
He snorted. "I'm far from perfect."
She studied him. "You hide it well."
He glanced at her. "So do you."
She laughed. "I don't hide anything."
He smiled softly. "That's why you're dangerous."
She gasped. "Are you flirting with me?"
"Maybe."
She leaned closer. "You're bad at it."
"And you're worse at pretending you don't like it."
She froze.
Then shoved him lightly. "Shut up."
He laughed—free, genuine.
Across the city, Najma watched from the balcony as Twinkle returned home later that evening, smiling, glowing.
Najma smiled to herself.
Good, she thought. She deserves this.
Ranveer stepped beside her.
"She looks happy," he said.
"She is," Najma replied.
"You gave something up," he said quietly.
Najma didn't deny it. "I made a choice."
He studied her profile. "Do you ever regret it?"
She met his gaze.
"No," she said calmly.
But as she turned away, the truth lingered unspoken.
Some sacrifices echo longer than others.