Whispers of Fate

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋

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Third Person's POV

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The melody faded, giving way to a swell of applause that echoed through the room. Atharva reluctantly released her hand, his pulse still thrumming.

As they stepped back, his lips curved into a soft, genuine smile - a rare expression he barely managed to keep subdued. Anisha looked up, meeting his gaze with a faint smile of her own, almost hesitant, yet undeniably there.

Atharva's chest tightened, a mix of joy and disbelief. He had long stopped hoping for moments like this - moments that felt almost...real.

His hand moved instinctively, resting lightly on the small of her back as they stepped down from the dance floor. His touch was lingering, as if reluctant to break whatever invisible thread had held them together.

Atharva couldn't help but feel elated-a stolen moment with her, so simple yet so rare. He had long accepted that his feelings were best kept locked away, hidden under the guise of formality and polite distance. But tonight, for a few blissful minutes, it felt like the world outside didn't exist, her laughter mingling with his, her steps naturally syncing with his own.

Still, a flicker of worry touched him. Was she okay? Had he unintentionally crossed a line? He closed his eyes, bracing himself to see a flicker of unease or perhaps a sign of regret on her face. He turned to look at her, but to his surprise, she looked at ease, almost... happy, almost peaceful, as if she, too, had been swept up by their dance.

Anisha, on the other hand, felt a wave of surprise wash over her. Surprised by her ease. She hadn't anticipated feeling so unburdened in Atharva's company, so unbothered by their closeness. The flush in her cheeks was still visible, though whether it was from the dance or something more, she couldn't quite tell.

"It was nice, wasn't it?", she said softly, her voice steady yet tender.

Atharva smiled, his chest tightening at her words, at the way she was looking at him with something so close to... trust. He wanted to say something, to acknowledge the flicker of intimacy that had just passed between them, but instead he just nodded, his smile deepening.

They stood like that for a moment, wrapped in their own little world, until Atharva's phone rang and he stepped out of the hall to take the call.

When he returned, the lively atmosphere of the anniversary party surrounded him. Atharva scanned the room until his eyes landed on Anisha. He spotted her seated at a table, having her dinner while engaged in animated conversation with a few ladies.

Her laughter chimed through the air, bright and inviting, and it struck him how beautifully she could light up a room.

He made his way to the buffet, filling his plate, but his eyes frequently drifted back to her. Each smile she shared with the other women sent a rush of warmth through him, yet it also deepened the ache of wanting to be the one to make her smile like that. Always.

Moments later, Atharva found himself engrossed in a conversation about business, his mind juggling numbers and projections. His gaze suddenly flickered to Anisha.

She stood alone, leaned slightly against a wall. Her arms were crossed lightly over her chest, and her foot tapped impatiently against the floor. Her smile had vanished, replaced by a look of boredom that tugged at her features. It was clear she was restless, her eyes darting toward the exit, longing to go home.

Atharva cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the group. "Excuse me, everyone," he interjected, his voice steady yet firm. "I should head back home now."