Dear Sweetheart!

Where It All Began - Shivaay

"Annika, this is for you." I give her the box and she takes it hesitantly.

It is a blue salwar kameez.

"Thanks, Shivaay." She says, smiling at the box. "And, this is for you."

Neither of us opens the boxes in front of the other, but the biggest grins adorn our faces. Tomorrow is Diwali. It has been quite a while since I celebrated it with my family, and today when I called Om, he and Rudra sounded a bit detached. Maybe, they were still mad.

"You okay?" She noticed the change in expression.

"Yep." I nod. The last thing I want to do is wipe the smile off her face.

"Let's clean the house and set up the lights." Together, we both swept the house and got the prayer room ready for tomorrow's puja. All the mundane things we do together make me want things I cannot have. Her.

Annika is a friend, I tell myself for the millionth time. Lately, it has been terrible, trying to remind myself of that reality. She helped me, and here I am thirsting for her love when I cannot even guarantee that to her.

She deserves better than me, a man with a broken family and an empire to rebuild. I will lose her in that chaos.

"Tomorrow, we cannot eat onion and garlic. I will make pulihora. It is tamarind rice." She explains as she makes sure all the ingredients are there.

"Okay. And, I will make rabri." Her eyes gleam. She loves spicy food and really, really sweet food. Two extremes.

"I am so glad I get to spend Diwali with you, Shivaay. And, thanks for the gift." Annika waves the box at me.

"Thank you too." I cannot wait to open it in the confines of my room.

We greet each other goodnight and return to our respective rooms. I try not to think about the sinful things that happen in a room. I try not to wonder how will I find her if I go inside her room. If she will be wearing those should-be-illegal silk pyjamas.

"Open that damn box and sleep," I whisper to myself.

I rip the wrapper and open the box to find a bunch of patterned socks. Obnoxious patterns that make me happy. I know, Shivaay Singh Oberoi should not be wearing such childish socks, but they are a guilty pleasure.

A note is in between the many pairs, and I read a note that will go into my collection of notes I have gotten from Annika. She was weird, writing notes and sticking them to the refrigerator instead of sending a text, but her notes made my day.

"Dear Shivaay, hope every step you take forward makes you reminisce about me." I read it aloud.

She has no clue what her very presence has done to my life.

To reminisce, I would have to even forget. But every second of my day, she is laced in my actions, thoughts, and hopes.

Hoping and dreaming are two things I have done more since I met her.

With a smile on my face, I slept, eager for a Diwali with Annika.

The next day, both of us had lectures. We prayed together and thanked each other for the gifts. The puja was in the evening, so the morning went smoothly.

"Dry your hair before you go. It is cold outside." I scold.

"No, I have to go. Bye, eat something." She finishes tying her shoes and runs out the front door.

"Be careful!" I shout.

I am a TA for one of my courses so talking to the professor, getting the slides, and helping students is my agenda for the day. It is annoying how this specific professor does not teach at all; it is as if he holds some disdain for students.