The Sisodia heirs stood unrivaled in control and possession, their world a testament to their might. To onlookers, their lives were a manifestation of perfection, with their family and surname commanding respect, prestige, and reputation.
Yet, behi...
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Aayansh was sitting on the swing, his gaze lost in the night sky's twinkling canvas. It calmed his inner turmoil. The terrace of Ashray, bathed in soft glow of fairy lights, felt like a refuge from the chaos below.
After deciding to start everything from the scratch again, he and Jivika had worked tirelessly, surprisingly as a good team. While the staff had removed the earlier decorations, they had planned a sober theme and then executed the plans. It had taken another three hours to complete the hectic task.
Jivika approaches from behind, her footsteps quiet on the stone floor. She had two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands, the strong aroma of which filled the air.
"Aayansh," she calls his attention upon herself, and hands him one cup. "I thought you would need this."
He nods, a thanking gesture from his end that she understands. He shifts to the left to make space for her beside him. Jivika settles on the swing, her shoulder slightly brushes against his.
"Tired?" she asks gently.
The softness in her tone stirs something deep within Aayansh, which he choose to ignore. He shakes his head, his eyes still on the moon.
"I hope it works out for bhabhi," he says sincerely, hoping Tarini wouldn't be disappointed with the end result.
"It will. We have put in so much hard work. That too twice, no less." Jivika chuckles and he joins her, once again recalling the first experiment they did with colours.
The laughter soon fades, leaving them in a comfortable silence. Aayansh turns to Jivika, who was already staring at him.
"You know, I never thought we would be doing this again." He says, his gaze searching for the truth deep with hers. He clarifies, "Working together, I mean."
Jivika's expression transforms from serious to nostalgic. Her mask slips for a moment, and her genuine emotions shines through.
"It feels great," she admits, the words escaping before she can censor them. Her tone was almost equivalent to a whisper, but he hears her correctly since she was sitting close to him.
Realizing her mistake, Jivika quickly looks away, hoping he won't continue the same conversation.
"Liar," Aayansh leans towards her like he was going to tell her a secret, and adds, "It doesn't even matter to you. Neither I, nor my presence. I won't feel bad if you accept that."
He clicks his tounge, shifting away, and her numb expression goes unnoticed by him. Jivika, taken aback by his words, feels perplexed and stunned hearing him.
A part of her yearns to counter. To tell him it's not true. He matters to her above everyone else, and his presence holds significant in her life. In her heart. In her existence.
