Trust~ the most difficult glass to build yet easiest to break.
Shivantika Oberoi, a normal fashion student living with her mother, brother and maternal side family peacefully.
Aadhish Shergill, an often questioned 'normal businessnessman' living wi...
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I reached the temple, the air thick with the scent of incense and flowers. As I bent down to touch the cool stone stairs, I caught a glimpse of the girl beside me. "Shivantika?" I whispered, why did I? Her eyes flickered, the surprise evident as her eyebrows knitted in curiosity.
Slowly, she turned to face me, her expression shifting from confusion to recognition. The sunlight caught her hair, framing her face and highlighting the moment between us, a fragile connection amidst the bustle of the temple.
"Aadhish?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, a hint of disbelief in her tone. It was as if the name had slipped from her lips before she fully registered it.
I raised my eyebrows, surprised by the confusion in her voice. "You look shocked," I replied, a teasing smile threatening to creep onto my face. Her expression was a mix of astonishment and something else—was it nostalgia?
Her next question caught me off guard, a mix of confusion and irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone almost accusatory. It felt as if she is questioning my presence.
'Why do you come to a temple? To stare at people?' I wanted to shoot back, but then I controlled myself. Then, gesturing to the holy plate in my hand, I remarked, "I came for this."
As the realization washed over her, her lips formed a surprised 'o,' and understanding began to replace the confusion in her eyes. The tension between us shifted, and for a moment, the world around us faded, leaving just the two of us amidst the murmurs of prayer and the soft rustle of offerings.
"Oh, same!" She replied, stepping into the mandir with purpose, and I closely followed behind. As I scanned the interior, I quickly spotted the priest, his serene presence a comforting sight.
"Namastey, pandit ji," I said, raising my hands in a gesture of respect as I approached him. "Maa ne yeh prasad bheja hai," I continued, handing over the thali filled with offerings. The priest accepted it with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with the wisdom of countless rituals. I felt a sense of peace wash over me as I joined my hands together, grounding myself in the sacred atmosphere.
[Namaste Priest, mom has sent this offering.]
"Kitni pyaari jodi hai tum dono ki," the priest said, looking between me and Shivantika, a smirk on his face.
[you both look like a match made in heaven.]
We exchanged wide-eyed looks, clearly taken aback. "It's not what it looks like at all," I replied with a laugh, trying to brush it off. "She's my friend's sister, Reyansh Oberoi if you know."
As I said it, I noticed Shivantika's expression shift, a mix of irritation and something else I couldn't quite place. I hurried through my prayer, handed some cash to the priest, and turned to find Shivantika had already made her exit.
A few minutes later, I was heading down the stairs when I spotted a girl sitting there, wailing dramatically and clutching her ankle. Shivantika stood beside her, arms crossed, wearing an expression that could melt ice.
