When spirited Vaishnavi's father sets her up on a blind date, she's curious but unprepared for the shock of seeing her date in a special forces uniform. What she doesn't expect is to find herself face-to-face with the cold and enigmatic Krrish.
Thei...
The boutique hummed with activity, filled with soft chatter and the rustling of luxurious fabrics. Vaishnavi and Krrish were on the sidelines, quietly assisting Trisha and Ishan in making their selections. Mishti and Nitika flitted around the racks, their laughter occasionally breaking through the background noise.
Trisha appeared beside Vaishnavi with a triumphant grin, holding up a deep blue lehenga adorned with intricate golden embroidery.
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Trisha (excitedly): "Vaishu, this is it! This will look amazing on you. No arguments—go try it."
Vaishnavi blinked in surprise but didn't have the energy to protest as Trisha ushered her toward the changing rooms.
Simultaneously, Ishan nudged Krrish, handing him a deep blue sherwani which exactly matched Vaishnavi's lehenga's colour.
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Ishan (teasing): "Your turn. You've been standing like a mannequin—go live a little."
Krrish gave him a death glare but silently took the outfit, heading toward another changing room.
Minutes later, Vaishnavi emerged, holding the edges of her lehenga as she walked. The blouse sat perfectly on her shoulders, but the threads at the back hung loose. She glanced around the store, realizing Trisha was nowhere to be seen.
Vaishnavi (softly, to herself): "Trisha... where are you?"
Her fingers fumbled with the delicate threads, frustration flickering across her face. Before she could decide what to do, she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her.
Krrish stepped out of his changing room, his deep blue sherwani fitting him perfectly. His quiet presence was commanding, even amidst the boutique's splendor. He noticed Vaishnavi struggling and paused, his expression unreadable.
Without a word, he moved closer. Vaishnavi stiffened as she saw him through the mirror, her hands freezing in place. He raised his hand slightly, silently offering to help.
She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the threads, but when she made no move to refuse, he stepped forward. The faint scent of his sandalwood scent lingered in the air as his steady hands took hold of the threads.
