𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬

ATHARVA

Dhruvi kept asking, "What is the surprise? Please tell me. I'll do your work for a whole week." I laughed and said nothing. Then, I took her to the terrace. She asked, "Is there no one else here?"

I replied, "I booked this spot just for you. Today is the first day, so you will be the first to see it." She blushed, and God, she was so adorable. This was what our bond was like. I would give her something special, and then she would give those priceless expressions. But then, I became selfish.

But it's okay. The past is the past. Now, I will become the same Atharva again, Dhruvi's Atharva, whether she gives me attention or not.

Dhruvi said, "Come on, hurry up! It's getting late. Where's the surprise?"

Then, I opened the door to the terrace room, and her eyes widened in amazement. The entire room was transformed into a Van Gogh masterpiece. The walls were adorned with large prints of his iconic paintings-**"Starry Night," "Sunflowers," and "The Bedroom."** The ceiling was decorated with tiny, twinkling lights, mimicking the stars in "Starry Night," creating a magical and immersive experience. The furniture and decor were carefully chosen to match the color palettes and themes of Van Gogh's works, adding to the enchanting ambiance.

In one corner, there was a setup for painting. An easel stood ready with a blank canvas, surrounded by an array of paints and brushes. Next to it, a small table was laid out with drinks and snacks-her favorite beverages and a selection of treats.

Dhruvi's face lit up with a mixture of awe and delight as she took it all in. She turned to me, her eyes sparkling just like the stars around us. "I love this!" she exclaimed, her smile brighter than ever.

"I knew you would," I said, feeling a warmth spread through me at her happiness. This was the kind of moment that made everything worth it-seeing her so genuinely pleased, her joy contagious. I couldn't help but smile, too, as I watched her start to explore the room, admiring the details.
Then, her gaze finally landed on the bag sitting on the table. She looked at me curiously and asked, "What's this?"

I said, "Open it."

She hurriedly opened the bag, and her mouth fell open in surprise. Inside was a collection of books by Lisa Jewell, one of her favorite authors.

"This is my apology," I said. "Please accept it."

She looked at me, confused. "Apology for what?"

I replied, "Remember when I told you to burn your novel? I know how much that must have hurt you. I remember how upset you used to get when your mom suggested getting rid of your books or giving them away. I realize now how wrong I was. So, I bought you some of Lisa Jewell's books. I know it's not the complete collection yet, but I'll get the rest later."

Her expression softened, and she looked like she wanted to say something, but I could tell she was too overwhelmed to express her joy. Her eyes said it all, though-she was happy, and that made everything worth it.

"Let's paint," she said, heading to the painting area.

I sat there watching her, guessing she was doodling. Perhaps she wasn't fond of watercolors or canvas. She was focused on her task while I snapped a few pictures of her. Then she came over to me.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing much. Did you draw what you wanted?" I asked, eager to see her creation.

"It's not that good. I need to be in the right mood to draw something, and this was all a surprise, so I just sketched something casually," she hesitated.