🪷 𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐐 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇: Cause everyone deserves a sports romance.
Heer Thakur's life currently is all about one goal: "3 lakh rupees in three months."
Abhishek Sharma, the classic angry young man who insists everything goes according to his meticulous...
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14. Friends.
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The warm rays of the sun bathed the garden in a soft golden glow as I sat cross-legged on the grass, my textbook spread open in front of me.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, adding a soothing background hum to my study session. My focus was deep, lost in the intricate diagrams on the page, when suddenly, something soft and light hit the side of my head.
Startled, I looked around and noticed a small paper airplane resting on the grass beside me. Confused, I picked it up and unfolded it.
'I’m sorry.'
The note read in messy yet familiar handwriting.
Before I could process it, another paper airplane swooped down and landed near my feet. I picked it up too, curiosity piquing, and unfolded it to find the continuation of the first note.
I know I messed up. Please forgive me?
My lips twitched into the faintest of smiles despite myself. I glanced up instinctively, and there he was—Abhishek, standing on the balcony of his house. His hands were clasped together in prayer, and his big, pleading eyes were fixed on me. To top it off, he was wearing the most ridiculous puppy face I had ever seen.
"Seriously?" I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I tried to suppress a chuckle.
He noticed my reaction, his expression turning even more dramatic as he pressed his palms together, mouthing the words, “Please, Heer!”
I sighed and quickly tucked the notes into my textbook, pretending to ignore him. Picking up my pen, I focused on the words in front of me, though the smile tugging at the corners of my lips refused to fade.
Abhishek leaned forward, still standing on his balcony. “At least say something! You can’t stay mad forever,” he called out.
Without looking up, I replied coolly, “You think throwing paper airplanes will fix everything?”
