5. The Breakfast Conversations.

327 22 121
                                        

5

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

5. The Breakfast Conversations.

· · ─ ·⋆⋅ ☾ ⋅⋆ · ─ · ·

Siya stood at the buffet counter, half awake, holding a plate while trying to decide whether she actually wanted breakfast or was just pretending to be productive this early. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling around her face.

She reached for the sandwich tray, picking two pieces slowly, when a voice suddenly spoke right behind her.

“Hey!”

Siya flinched, just a tiny jump, but enough for her to drop the serving spoon back with a soft clatter. She turned around with her hand pressed lightly to her chest.

“Abhishek! You scared me,” she said, her heartbeat still a little fast.

He blinked, instantly guilty. “Oh, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up like some criminal.”

She laughed under her breath, shaking her head. “It’s okay. But you here? At breakfast?”

Abhishek acted offended, eyebrows rising dramatically. “For food, obviously.”

He took a plate for himself, standing beside her, and Siya noticed how he always carried this warm energy around him, like he genuinely enjoyed talking to people, no matter how early it was. He looked fresh, like he slept peacefully, which annoyed her in a harmless way.

“I thought you guys are diet conscious human beings,” she teased, moving forward to grab a cup of tea.

He scoffed like she had said the world’s dumbest thing. “Madam, we literally had chaat that day in case you forgot.”

Siya bit back a smile as she poured her tea. “True.”

“And,” he added, pointing his spoon at her like he was giving a lecture, “it is my best friend’s wedding. Diet starts after the madness ends.”

The way he said it, loud, dramatic, like he was trying to convince the whole room, made Siya laugh. A real laugh. The kind that came from the stomach.

Abhishek looked satisfied with himself, like making her laugh was his morning achievement.

He reached for the pancakes next, and she noticed how he hummed softly while choosing food… like he was just a comfortable person to be around. No pressure. No weird silence.

“You’re an early riser?” he asked suddenly, glancing at her plate.

“Kinda. My body wakes up even when I don’t want it to,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Same,” he said. “But then I remember there’s food downstairs and I get motivated.”

She snorted. “Of course that’s your motivation.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏Where stories live. Discover now