OPEN ARMS: SHUBMAN GILL

9

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Kundavai was sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her phone, when Shubman sent her a message.

Shubman: I'm making coffee. Come over, I need your opinion. Promise I won't burn it this time.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. He had a habit of overestimating his barista skills, and every time he tried, it ended in a disaster. Still, something about the idea of him making coffee—however much of a mess he'd make—was too tempting to pass up.

Kundavai: Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. You're not getting any sympathy if you mess it up again.

She threw on a hoodie and headed to his place. It was only a short walk, and the late afternoon sun was warm on her skin, the city buzzing with its usual energy. When she reached his apartment, she knocked on the door, and it swung open almost immediately.

Shubman stood there with a cocky grin, holding two cups. "You're just in time," he said, stepping aside to let her in. "I think I've nailed it this time."

Kundavai raised an eyebrow, walking past him. "We'll see about that. If it's anything like last time, I might just have to take you up on that 'we'll never talk about this again' offer."

He chuckled, leading her into the kitchen, where the smell of coffee was already wafting through the air. It wasn't burnt, surprisingly, but there was a subtle sweetness to it that made her pause.

She picked up the cup he handed her, eyeing it with suspicion before taking a cautious sip.

The warmth spread through her chest, and her brows furrowed. "Wait. This... is actually good," she admitted, her voice laced with surprise. "Did you actually get it right?"

Shubman leaned against the counter, arms crossed, clearly pleased with himself. "I told you I could do it. Maybe you just don't appreciate good coffee."

Kundavai scoffed, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You know I'm a chai girl, right? Coffee's never been my thing."

He stepped closer, leaning in with that playful smirk she loved. "You sure about that? I think you're just not used to the *right* coffee. Give it a few more sips and tell me you don't like it."

She rolled her eyes, but for once, she didn't argue. She took another sip, this time savoring the flavor, and realized he was right. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. "Okay, fine. I like it. Happy now?"

His grin widened, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Very."

Kundavai couldn't help but chuckle, shaking her head. She had never been a coffee person, but somehow, with Shubman making it, it was different. Maybe it was because he'd put the effort in, or maybe it was because he made everything seem a little better. Whatever the reason, she wasn't complaining.

"Alright," she said, handing him back the cup, "you're officially not the worst barista I've ever met. But don't get used to it."

"Don't worry, I won't," he said, taking the cup from her and setting it on the counter. "But next time, you're trying my special chai."

Kundavai raised an eyebrow. "Special chai? Is that your way of saying you'll mess up even more next time?"

He laughed, stepping closer again. "You'll find out soon enough."

And just like that, the afternoon slipped into evening, with the two of them sitting on the couch, casually bantering about anything and everything. Shubman, for all his cockiness, had a way of making even the simplest moments feel special. And that... was something Kundavai hadn't expected, but definitely wasn't complaining about.