invisible string ✓

eleven

• ADVIKA •

“Advika?” He tilted his head to his left and shot a surprised glance. “Sorry, I know you don't know me. I'm Ishaan.”

I felt my eyes watering as I realised that my theory existed in real life.

Ishaan exists. Maybe not near me, but he does.

“Advika?” I heard him calling me once again and I looked at him consciously, noticing what he was saying. “Are you okay now?”

“How… How did I reach here?” No matter what, I want to know that.

“Ummm… You were at my terrace, unconscious,” he pursed his lips and looked down, only to look back. “My housemaid spotted you first and informed me of it. I recognised you from the mail's old profile picture. So, I made you sleep here.”

Then, the question was how would I escape back to my real world whenever I wanted. He gave me the answer to everything but that.

“So… Was this how you found me?” I lowered my shoulders and stiffened them, trying to bring up the strength despite my shaky legs. “Did I bring anything else?”

“Well, yeah, your bags.” He shrugged his shoulders as if to say that it was obvious, but for me, it wasn't. “So, are you feeling good?”

Instead of saying things like, “No, Ishaan. I'm exhausted mentally,” I replied nothing but a simple nod, tugging a strand of my imaginary hair behind my hair.

“Good.” He raised his hand close to my cheek, but flinched from it, which evoked a tremor of colours like a rainbow pop. “You… Have a bath and… Uh, why not… Ummm… Join me for breakfast?”

I raised my eyebrows at the prospect, asked, “But, it looks like you're already heading out somewhere,” and pointed my chin at his crisp outfit.

“Uh, yeah, I'm heading to the office since it's a Monday.” He scratched the back of his neck and added as if he had almost forgotten it, “But still, I can wait for you. I have a lot of time for work.” I felt his delicate yet heavy gaze on me, my eyes, my features, and the way I sweat like a decathlon runner.

“Uh, Ishaan, I… I should take a bath now. So…”

Before I could bring words to get him out of my room, he spoke up. “It's okay. I… Uh… I'll wait outside.”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” I led him to the doorway and held the door handle, waiting for him to leave. But before he could leave, a thing struck my mind, raising my voice at him to wait.

He looked at me as if to ask what happened while I asked, “I need to call someone. If you don't mind—”

Pointing his mobile at me, he said, “Here you go.”

My eyes widened at the speed his brain worked while accepting the mobile from him. The lock screen flashed with numbers 0 to 9 with his picture in the background.

“Uh… Passcode?” I pointed my chin at him and asked it.

“Yeah, I forgot to open it. Sorry. The passcode is 2003,” he stated and leaned on the frame of the door, letting my eyes bulge at the size of the universe.

2003, his passcode, is my year of birth. How did he know that? Is that possible for him to calculate my year of birth just with my age?

I tapped my year of birth on the screen and it flashed a plethora of apps with his picture with a girl behind. She was taller than me but shorter than him, had brown eyes, and was wearing a royal blue dress, matching Ishaan's shirt. They looked so cheesy and lovely together, which made me realise that…