BOOK ONE OF THE SWEET AND SOUR SERIES
Vanya Sharma hated marriages. Growing up seeing troubled and failed marriages carved a bitter spot in her heart, especially when one of them belonged to her parents. While escaping the shadows of her past, she f...
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༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ
𝐃𝐢𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐚
तेरे नाम का नशा नशा है, ज़ुबान पे छा गया, इस बेखुदी में डूबने से, मैं खुद को ना रोक सका
📓
𝗠 𝗔 𝗛 𝗜 𝗥
08:21 Am, 26th March
The morning air is too damn cheerful for my liking.
I step out of Vanya's house, rolling my shoulders as if I can physically shake off the absolute circus that was last night. I should have left earlier. I should've just seen her and bolted. I should have fought harder against her mother's relentless guilt-tripping superpowers. I should have—
"Mahir."
I freeze.
That voice. That soft voice.
I immediately brace myself for some last-minute insult about how I'm ruining the atmosphere or lowering the property value just by existing. But when I glance back I see her smiling.
It's not her usual smug, I-just-won-an-argument smile. It's not the fake customer service one she gives when she's barely tolerating people. It's... soft. Warm.
And I am not built for this.
My brain malfunctions so hard that for a second, I forget how to stand properly.
What is she doing? What is the purpose of this smile? Is this a trick? Did her mother put her up to this? Is she about to request a kidney?
I blink, struggling to reboot my system.
Then, just as my heart finally remembers how to beat at a normal rate, she speaks.
"Thank you."
Two words. Two! And yet they physically destabilize me.
I stare at her, trying to process whether I just hallucinated it. Did she—did she actually thank me? Me? The emotionless corporate overlord she has no problem calling a heartless fossil?
For what? For existing? For suffering? For not pushing her down the bed last night when she was being impossible?
I open my mouth to respond. To ask questions. To demand clarity. But before I can say anything, she turns around and hobbles back inside—leaving me standing here like a complete idiot.
I don't just get into my car like a normal, functioning adult. No, I stand there like I've been personally victimized by a smile.
