𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑰𝒄𝒚 𝑽𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

|12|.SILENT EXPECTATIONS

ASVIKA'S POV

Asvika took a deep breath before stepping toward Ashrit's study, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her dupatta. Today was her pehli rasoi, the first meal she'd prepare for her new household-a tradition that symbolized her entry into this family. Yet, the thought of cooking for Ashrit, of all people, had her stomach in knots. She knew this ritual meant nothing to him, just as he seemed to care little about anything else connected to her.

But she wouldn't back down. Not today.

Raising her hand, she knocked lightly on the door, feeling the cool air that always seemed to surround his space seep into her skin.

"Come in," came Ashrit's voice, low and curt.

She pushed open the door to find him seated behind his desk, engrossed in a file, his face shadowed by the morning light filtering through the window. Without glancing up, he waved a dismissive hand. "If it's not important, don't waste my time."

Asvika raised an eyebrow, already a bit annoyed. This is how he starts his mornings? With icy stares and even colder words?

Clearing her throat, she replied, "Actually, it's important enough. I need to know... what you like for breakfast."

Ashrit looked up, finally meeting her gaze. A faint smirk played at the corner of his lips, as though amused by her question. "And why, exactly, does that concern you?"

Her patience was wearing thin, but she kept her tone steady. "Because today is my pehli rasoi, and I'm supposed to make something you actually like. So, I'm asking: Aloo ka paratha ya baigan ka paratha?"

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with that familiar arrogance. "I don't like either," he stated coolly. "And I didn't realize my preferences were any of your business."

She raised her chin, a defiant glint in her eyes. "Well, I wouldn't care either, except it's a family tradition. I don't have a choice."

He chuckled, a sound low and edged with sarcasm. "Then make whatever you want. I won't eat it anyway."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. How typical.

"Oh really?" she shot back, folding her arms. "Afraid it won't live up to your impossible standards?"

Ashrit's smirk deepened. "I don't have time for sentimental rituals, Asvika. If you insist on putting on a show, don't expect me to applaud."

Asvika's lips tightened, but she forced herself to stay composed. "Perfect. I'll make whatever I like, then. But just to be clear, if I find out later that you secretly love parathas, I won't be taking requests."

His eyes narrowed slightly, amused. "Do what you please. I don't expect anything from you."

"Good," she shot back, her tone just as cold. "Neither do I."

Asvika held back a sarcastic retort, turning on her heel and walking out, a faint smirk on her face. Let him underestimate me. She'd make sure he'd at least notice her effort, whether he liked it or not.

🦋🦋

After leaving Ashrit's study, Asvika headed toward the kitchen, still fuming from their exchange. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she barely noticed Supriya Chachi and Yash chatting near the doorway.

Supriya Chachi's warm, mischievous voice cut through her reverie. "Looks like someone just survived the Ashrit Storm," she teased, noting the look on Asvika's face. "So, what did my dear nephew say?"