IT IS NOT A TRIANGLE LOVE STORY...
ᯓ★ADITYA KAPOOR
Age:-27 years
The Only Son of Manish Kapoor and Srushti Kapoor. The Sunshine Boy wants to become an artist against their family legacy. Heartbroken but still carries a genuine smile to make others...
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It's not exactly rocket science to figure out who's behind this stupidity. The retribution I have in mind is beyond the realm of his comprehension. Nevertheless, I maintained an air of cool composure in front of Aadhya, and unmindful before my parents as we gathered around the table for ah-so-awkward breakfast.
In truth :
A. The food remains untouched.
B. My parents exchange glances, their eyes flickering with curiosity as they watch me intently from their corner of their eyes.
They are level-headed enough to not ask me anything when I'm in one of my moods.
The golden-brown toast sits cold on my plate, the butter congealed and glistening under the morning light. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, but it does nothing to stir my appetite.
A laughter rang out in deafening silence. So with the tales of younger siblings, annoyance suddenly rang true.
Aadhya, seated next to me, seems oblivious to the simmering fury swirling inside me.
With a deep breath, I wrestle my frustration as I try to ignore the mess she created on the dining table. “Aadhya, put all that aside and eat this,” I coax, offering her a slice of bread slathered in jam, my peace offering to the tiny tornado.
She holds up a finger, signaling me to pause, as she counts paper flowers from the last basket, placing them on the table with the seriousness of a scientist. If she hadn’t been my little shadow when I opened the door, those flowers would have met their fate in the trash.
Her tiny brows furrowed in concentration as she arranged the last seven flowers one by one. “137,138, 139, 140, 141, 142… ah, finally 143!”
143? I love—Ugh, Damn him.
Her head whips up, eyes twinkling with playful mischief. She gasps, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest. “Ishu, there is a whopping One. Hundred. Forty-three flowers!” she exclaims, her voice soaring high enough to be heard by someone if there is one to listen in the penthouse.
It's spirit-free until the new tenant arrives within an hour.
Yesterday, while I was away, someone buttered up Papa so sweetly that he decided to lease out ‘THE PENTHOUSE,’ and today, they’re moving in. With three lively daughters, it’s no small feat for Papa to hand over the keys to just anyone. He’s certainly done his homework on them, yet he still asked me to give it a once-over in case I had any lingering doubts.
I have no doubt about his knack for reading people; after all, he’s my master. Yet, it baffles me how he manages to find the silver lining even in the darkest souls. So, I promised him I would when they showed up. Sure, the odds of a doctor turning out to be a creep are slim, but I’m not about to let my guard down.
I nod along, feigning interest in Aadhya’s chatter, while sliding another slice onto her plate. She grabs it eagerly and exclaims, “Are you really sure? Not even want a single flower from these, Ishu?” I nod, captivated by the sparkle in her warm brown eyes. “Yay! All for me! I'll give some to Reyaan.”
