Whispers of Fate

𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇

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Third Person's POV

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Atharva spent the entire night in his study, while Anisha and Maisha slept in his bedroom.

Early morning, he was returning to his bedroom,when he encountered his grandmother. "Atharva, you didn't sleep in your room?"

"Dadi, I had some important tasks to attend to since I didn't go to the office yesterday. It went late into the night, so I remained in the study," Atharva swiftly and confidently lied, hoping to avoid further questioning.

His grandmother offered a wry smile, understanding that her grandson was lying.

"Alright, come. I was headed to your room only. Anisha and you have some rituals to perform," she said as she made her way ahead.

Atharva absorbed her words, closed his eyes, and then, with a gentle grip on his grandmother's wrist, stopped her. "Dadi, can we not do all this? You know, I don't believe in these rituals, also I have a very crucial business meeting today. I can't spare time for these rituals."

"But, Atharva...", Dadi began.

"Please, dadi," he implored.

Taking his hands, she softly said, "Do you think I don't understand? I know you're doing this for Anisha."

Sighing, Atharva relented, "It is what it is. Will these rituals truly matter if her heart isn't in them?"

Patting his arms, Dadi acquiesced, "Alright, as you wish. By the way, can we at least make your wife cook something sweet?"

Atharva smiled, "Main puch kar batata hoon."
("I will ask her and tell you.")

"Ohho, aap puch kar batayenge! Nice, nice," she teased, as Atharva headed back to his room.
("You will ask and tell!")

Dadi stared at Atharva's back, sending a silent appeal to the heavens.

Entering his bedroom slowly, Atharva found Maisha deeply asleep on the expansive bed.

Sitting beside her, he tenderly stroked her small face, basking in the morning sun's gentle embrace.

Just then, the door to the bathroom creaked open, and Anisha emerged, her form draped in a simple pink suit that complemented her delicate features. The gentle rays of morning light accentuated her presence, casting a soft glow around her as she stepped into the room. She noticed Atharva sitting on the edge of the bed.

Atharva's heart skipped a beat as their gazes intertwined. There was an unspoken connection, a familiarity that lingered in the air between them, though obscured by a layer of discomfort and awkwardness that seemed to envelop Anisha in that moment.

She could sense Atharva's watchful eyes on her, analyzing, understanding, and yet seemingly uncertain. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, a subconscious attempt to ease the tension building within her.

The atmosphere felt charged, pregnant with unspoken words and untold stories.

Anisha, after thorough contemplation, made a slight nod in acknowledgment before moving toward the dressing table, the air still humming with the residual energy of their unspoken connection.