ℂ𝕆ℂ𝕂𝕋𝔸𝕀𝕃𝕊 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ ℂ𝕌ℙ𝕀𝔻

𝟲𝟴

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚆𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢
>>>>–––– 💘 ––––<<<<

Author’s Note:

Here’s another surprise for you all!
I know I haven’t been very active lately, and I truly appreciate your patience. As many of you know, I was unwell and focusing on recovery. But now that I’m back, I wanted to share a little something as a small compensation for the wait.

Hope you enjoy these chapters—your thoughts and comments always mean a lot!

Thank you for reading, and as always, happy reading!

>>>>–––– 💘 ––––<<<<

Shakthi perched on the kitchen countertop, legs swinging slightly, face smeared in a thick layer of green mask that clung cool against his skin. The only light came from a phone torch propped beside a mug, casting long, flickering shadows across the tiled walls.

Mithra stood in front of him, her fingers stained with the remnants of the face mask, a proud smirk tugging at her lips.

Indha nerathula thookam varama panra velaiya idhu?

(Is this really the task you chose to cure insomnia?)

Shakthi asked, eyeing the bowl suspiciously.

Mithra dipped the brush again, undeterred.

Yendha nerathula yenna pananumnu rules iruka yenna?

(Since when are there rules about what we can do at what time?)

She gently brushed another stroke over his nose.

In fact, this is therapy. Beauty therapy.

Shakthi let out a long breath. The mask was oddly calming.

Pudhusa mask vangirukae… adhe first'uh en moonjila pottu test panre'nu open'ah ve solirkalam.

(You bought a new mask and your first instinct was to test it on my face. Could have just said it)

Mithra chuckled, slightly embarrassed, and held up a small mirror.

Ippo, indha munja paaru. Sollu… idha vida bayangarama oru munja pathrukiya? Idha thaandi oru pei vandhu unna attack paniruma?

(Now look at this face. Tell me—is there anything scarier? You think even a ghost would dare touch you like this?)

Shakthi stared at his reflection. The green paste, with wide eyes and puffed-up cheeks, he finally broke into laughter, the tension he'd been carrying since the scream fading into the night.

Okay, point taken

he said, still chuckling as Mithra too laughed.

The kitchen, dim and quiet, became a bubble of warmth and comfort—a temporary escape from the stormy night and Shakthi’s own overactive imagination.

Then, as the laughter ebbed, Mithra’s voice softened.

Shakthi… can I ask you something?

He glanced at her. The playfulness in her face had given way to a kind of quiet seriousness.

Of course.

Aniki beach'lae… actual'ah yenna dhan nadandhadhu?

(At the beach… what really happened?)