A Desi romcom Indian story, where the main lead is not any kind of mafia or any emotionless. Rude, Ruthless man.
He is a kind man, who makes a priority of his family and wife first. He is. Standard. Unlike those leads who curses there family uneven...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Last night, the four of us talked until nearly 2 AM. And for the first time, I saw a different side of him—unguarded, effortless, as if he didn’t care who was listening. It was strange, almost unsettling, how easily he switched between his cold arrogance and this casual, carefree self.
Maybe he just needed to be comfortable around people, and once he was, that was it.
Later, as the night stretched on, a craving hit me. Ice cream.
Without waiting for anyone's approval, I announced, “I’m getting ice cream. If anyone wants to join, consider it a treat.”
Ahmedabad Station was famous for Vadilal ice cream, and the moment the train pulled in, we jumped off, heading straight for a tiny stall. The night air was cool, tinged with the scent of damp earth and train smoke. It felt oddly refreshing.
The others each had two scoops. I, on the other hand, had four times that. Maybe five. I lost count.
“You’re going to fall sick,” Advik warned, watching me with a look of quiet disapproval. His voice was calm, but there was a certain edge to it—like he actually cared.
Warmness flooded inside my body, i dont know why but it did. Something was wrong with me, suddenly my stomach flips. I feel anxious around him. But something is definelty wrong with me
I gave him a cheeky smile, taking another spoonful. “As if I’m going to listen to you.”
He sighed, shaking his head.
Morning
A soft breeze brushed against my face, cool and feather-light. I stirred slightly, adjusting myself, but the breeze came again, persistent and cold. A shiver ran down my spine.
I tried to turn over, but something was weighing me down. My legs felt heavy, pinned in place. A sleepy murmur left my lips as I tugged my blanket closer.
And then—
My eyes flew open.
For a second, I just stared, my breath catching in my throat.
No. Way.
A warm weight rested against my lap. My fingers—my own fingers—were tangled in the soft, tousled strands of his hair.
Advik.
Sleeping.
On. My. Lap.
My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp. My heart stumbled over itself, beating wildly, unsure of what to make of this.
He looked… different.
Not like the arrogant, impossible man I’d argued with yesterday. Not like the infuriating presence that always had a sharp remark ready.
Here, in this moment, he was just… him.
His face was peaceful, his breaths deep and steady. The faint shadows under his eyes were more visible up close. A small mole hid just behind his ear. His neatly trimmed beard framed his sharp jawline perfectly. The cold morning breeze stirred his hair, making a few strands flutter across his forehead.
