Drenched Heart's

🌸Connections🌸

Aryan sighed and explained, "I didn't do it; there was an accident—" He was interrupted.

 "ACCIDENT!" Aahan gasped, concerned. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt? And why didn't you call me?" Aryan cut him off again. 

"Calm down, I'm fine. It wasn't a bad accident, more like a sweet one." Aryan smiled as he said that. Aahan raised his eyebrows and asked, "What happened that made you smile, hmm-hmm?"

Aryan: "Well, due to traffic, I told the driver to take the car to the exhibition; otherwise, I'd be late. I decided to take a shortcut by hopping into an auto rickshaw ahead as i entered in a lane to move towards the other side to tak rickshaw there , a girl came running and collided with me. Her ink-stained hand ended up on my shirt." Aryan slightly smiled, recalling the incident.

Aahan playfully asked, "What's with the smile, big bro? And by the way, how did she look?" His eyes sparkled mischievously. 😄👀

Aryan chuckled, his enigmatic gaze hinting at something deeper. "Her glasses were covering her eyes, which I wanted to see, but let's leave it at that," he cryptically replied. Aahan raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Aryan's mysterious response. Little did they know that this chance encounter would weave their lives together in unexpected ways. 🌟😊

The car parked outside the grand mansion. As Aryan and Aahan entered the house, a soft hand smacked Aahan's head. "Ah, ouch, Mom—" he began, but she cut him off. "What, Mom? Why were you late to the exhibition?" she scolded. 

Aryan stepped in, wrapping her in a warm hug. "Mom," he sighed softly, his bunny-like smile melting her heart. She patted his back, smiling in the embrace of her eldest son. "I knew that you will do it " she said, and Aryan hummed, snuggling into his mom's neck.

Aahan, who was standing behind them, watched the heartwarming scene with a big smile on his face. He joined the hug, saying, "Not without me."

Aryan's eyes opened, and he gazed directly at the framed photograph hanging on the wall. A solitary tear escaped from his eyes as he smiled, whispering, "I did it, Dad. The company is thriving, our business is flourishing, and my dream project is on track—just as we envisioned." But, Dad, you're the missing piece of my life. I wish you were here." He nestled his face in his mother's comforting embrace. 

Author pov:

As Anjali returned home, she heard loud music emanating from her parents' room. "There you go," she thought, amused. As she approached their room, she witnessed her parents laughing and dancing in a romantic embrace. 

"Ahem-ahem," she cleared her throat, teasingly observing them.

"So, what's the occasion, hmm-hmm?" Anjali playfully asked, a smile lingering on her face.

"My dearest daughter, do I need any specific reason to dance with the love of my life?" Her father replied, gazing into his wife's eyes.

"Oh, stop with these cheesy lines, you old man," her mother retorted, lightly hitting his arm, a blush creeping onto her face.

"Goodness, not you two again," Anjali remarked, witnessing the familiar romance between her parents.

"Is our little baby annoyed?" her father teased, pulling her into a warm hug.

"Dad," Anjali nestled into his embrace, exhaustion evident in her voice, "today was such a long day."

"It's okay, little one. Go rest," he comforted her, patting her back and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Sweetie, I'll wake you up for dinner," her mom added, caressing her hair.

"What a tiring day," Anjali huffed as she sat on her bed. Her eyes moved toward her hand, which still bore a faint resemblance of ink. She smiled softly and closed her eyes, reliving the flashback of those gray eyes looking at her. "Aaish," she whispered.

Getting up, she walked toward her closet to change. Once done, she retrieved a diary from her cupboard. Sitting back on her bed, she began to write—the diary that held all her pain, sleepless nights, and everything in between.

(At Aryan's place)

"Uh, Aahan, the bag I gave you—where is it?" Aryan asked.

"Big bro, it's in my room. Why?" Aahan replied, his expression curious.

"Nothing, I just forgot something in that bag," Aryan explained as he headed toward Aahan's room. He retrieved the bag and took it back to his own room.

"Don't know why I'm keeping it like this," Aryan mused, gazing at the ink-stained shirt. Unknowingly, a smile tugged at his lips, and he placed it carefully in his cupboard.

Closing his eyes, he relived the flashback: the flickering plum lips, the hazel eyes hidden behind glasses, and the scent of cherry blossoms mixed with ink. He opened his eyes, slightly shook his head, and drifted back to sleep. 🌸🖋️