invisible string ✓

fifteen

• ADVIKA •

“Anyways,” he diverted the topic while clearing his throat and continued, “Are you ready for tomorrow's ballroom night?” He asked, referring to the Sangeet that had “Ballroom” as its theme.

Nodding my head, I replied, “Yeah. I think I am,” completely ignoring the fact that I hate parties.

Though I hate to say this, yes, I am that typical “antisocial in the name of introverted” female lead who's almost straight out of a Wattpad book.

“Oh, great! I can't really wait for the party.” If one sees the sparkle in his eyes, he's being genuine; unlike how I am when people mention parties.

***

THE NEXT DAY…

“Hey!” I heard Ishaan's voice from outside, associated with a knock on the door. “You ready?”

“Well… Almost,” I shout from inside, looking down at my almost-naked body that has only a black brassieres. “Five more minutes.” I looked back at my underwear, camisole, and my satin caramel brown maxi full-sleeved gown.

Five minutes after getting ready, I peeped through the peephole, hopelessly hoping that Ishaan would be waiting for me.

And, yeah, he did.

“Ishaan, are you there?” I asked to confirm it.

“Well, yeah. Are you ready?” He repeated the question.

“Yeah, I am.” I stepped one inch backwards to make it easier for him to come inside.

He opened the door and gave me a glimpse of himself, leaving me to depart from the book universe to my delusional universe.

Who else wouldn't if a man with dark green eyes, dusky skin, messy hair, and trimmed beard shows up with a beige coat suit, a pair of beige pants, and a chocolate brown shirt that has one button open?

The mention of the trimmed beard and the colour of his shirt had my eyes wide and my heart throb like a person performing an act with stage anxiety.

“Ishaan. Where is your beard?” I stepped half an inch closer to him, giving myself a clearer peek of his beard.

“You asked for it. You got it, Mia Anima.” He brushed his beard and shot a smile that had finally created visible creases around.

“Mia Anima?” I frowned out of perplexity and squinted my eyes while all he gave was nothing but a lopsided smile.

Mia Anima? Why does this sound like a potential nickname from Dante Russo?

“Mobile, please,” I extended my hand and asked Ishaan for his mobile. As he took them from his pants pocket and unlocked it for me, I opened the translator app in his mobile and typed those words he said to me, in order to get them translated in English.

My soul.

I'm not some particular dumb female lead named Maahi Sharma to not understand pages of thoughts behind those two simple words.

Butterfly, Sunshine, Princess, Red, Sarge, Bollito, Shortcake, Mia Cara, Love, Baby, Pet, Little One, Darling, Meatball.

These were the list of nicknames I loved until a few seconds ago when Ishaan called me Mia Anima.

Stepping closer to my ears, his breath tickled my cheeks as he whispered, “You look like Elsa, Mia Anima,” eyeing at the magenta shades on my cheeks, which wasn't any face powder.

Comparing his girl with Disney characters was what every girl would fucking wish for in her lifetime. Talk about comparing carrots with diamonds!

“And, this ice queen can melt down whenever she’s with her sunshine,” I whispered on his face, maintaining the flirtatious mood instead of awkwardly replying with a “Shall we go?”