In a quiet corner of the city, there flowed a peaceful river. It wasn't very wide, but it was deep—mysteriously so. Old stone steps led down to the water, worn smooth by time. And every evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the river changed its colors—gold melting into amber, amber fading into a dusky blue.
The riverside soon became their favorite place.
One evening, as they sat side by side on the steps, Jesmine spoke softly, her eyes fixed on the water.
"You know… this river feels like it quietly listens to everything."
Yash smiled.
"Then let's make it our witness today."
"To what?" she asked, turning toward him.
"To our future."
A faint shimmer of tears gathered in Jesmine's eyes.
"Will the future really be that easy for us?"
Yash reached for her hand, holding it gently but firmly.
"I'll make it easy."
That evening, they spoke of dreams as if they were already real—
A small house. Blue curtains fluttering by the window. Morning tea shared in comfortable silence. A bookshelf filled with stories they loved. Flower pots lined neatly along the balcony.
Jesmine laughed softly.
"I'll keep a red hibiscus plant."
"And I'll water it every morning," Yash replied.
She looked at him, a playful seriousness in her voice.
"And what if someone tries to stand in our way?"
Yash's tone grew steady, unwavering.
"I'll stand by you."
The river flowed on, silent and deep, as if storing away every word they had spoken.
But somewhere in the distance, unseen and unheard, a storm was quietly gathering.