DREAMY TALES

Arylie || Pheli Dafa ||

Aryan's burgeoning emotions transcended mere boss-employee dynamics following Aparna Tripathi's heart attack cue:

Thursday, 2:57 AM, at City Hospital.

Dil kahe kahaniya pehli dafa
Armano mein rawaniyan pehli dafa

"Tum smile karat ho," Aryan snapped out of his trance at Imile's teasing question.

"Me... why would I smile," Aryan nervously adjusted his red aviators, trying to mask his unease.

"Kaheke hum janat rahe tum smile kar rahe ho," Imile said, her own smile reflecting the rare smile she had seen on Aryan's face, one he reserved only for his closest ones.

"Enough of your nonsense, Imile. Either lovers smile or madmen, aur na toh mujhe kise se py... pyaar hua hai na mein pagal hoon. I'm Aryan Singh Rathore. If Mrs. Tripathi regains consciousness, informs me immediately. And if you need to return home, I'll send the driver," he sighed deeply, realizing he had been holding his breath.

She hummed in response as he ended the call.

Aryan stared at his phone for a good five minutes before it buzzed again, the screen flashing 'Junglee.' Startled by the sudden buzz, he dropped his phone.

Ho gaya begana main hosh se pehli dafa,
Pyar ko pehchana ehsaas hai yeh naya.

With a sigh, he picked up the phone and answered her call. "Imile, do you want to come back? Should I send the driver? No, let the driver be. I'll come to pick you up myself... I mean, he must be asleep."

"Calm down, My Rajdhani Express," his heart skipped a beat as she inadvertently claimed him as hers.

He took a deep breath and chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Agar ab tum haan mein sir hilaoge toh humka pata kaisan chalii haii?"

"But you already know," a slight smile adorned his lips, a rare sight.

Imile gulped. "Yes, aur ab humko yeh bhi pata hai ki tum humpar volcano bankar fatne vale ho."

"Now what have you done?" he asked, lazily reclining on the bed.

"I will not come back home," his heart skipped a beat. Did Aditya Kumar Tripathi lure her back in his absence? Damn that man for leaving Imile alone.

"Fine, do whatever you want. I don't care," tossing his phone on the bed, he removed his aviators and touched the wound caused by her slippers.

He forgot to tell her, but why would she listen when she's still fixated on her ex-babushaebh, now technically her sister's husband? Who knows for how long that pathetic man will continue to play his games.

Imile sighed, thinking of Aryan, and his anger issues, a bad habit of not listening to the other person's side of the story - Mr. Grumpy Singh Rathore.

She dialed Arpita's number to inform her of her whereabouts so that she wouldn't worry. Arpita understood her situation unlike her UNB brother and assured Imile of her support.

Suna hai, suna hai, yeh rasmein wafa hai,
Jo dil pe nasha hai woh pehli dafa hai.

Next morning -

Aryan descended to the dining area for breakfast, visibly unrested from a troubled night's sleep. He sank into his chair, clutching a newspaper that seemed to offer little distraction from his thoughts. "Imile, come quickly, or we'll be late for the office. There's an important meeting today," he called out with urgency, his tone reflecting both concern and frustration.