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
𝐙𝐞𝐡𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐛
तेरे संग बीते हर लम्हे पे हमको नाज़ है तेरे संग जो न बीते उसपे ऐतराज़ है
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M A H I R
05:18 p.m., 18th May, Sunday, Velocity Bar-restro, New Delhi
Nayan lounges across from me, fingers drumming on the bar's worn wood, looking like he's moments away from either falling asleep or committing a homicide. I'm rambling. Again. It's her fault. The way her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders. The tilt of her chin when she's about to argue. The curve of her lips that always seems seconds away from either a smile or a snarky retort.
"She has these stupidly small fingers," I mutter, swirling the untouched espresso in my glass. "Like... delicate. Precise. I noticed it when she handed me the ring. I don't know why I noticed it. I just did."
"Of course you did," Nayan drones. "Why focus on your work when you can wax poetic about your fake wife's cuticles?"
I ignore him. "And her nose twitches when she's trying not to laugh. It's subtle. Blinks too quickly sometimes, like her brain's racing faster than she can speak. And her eyes, black, an abyss I wouldn't mind getting lost in."
"They are—"
"—the portals to your rebirth, yeah, got it," Nayan deadpans, lifting his glass halfway to his lips. "You're halfway through a sonnet. Just say you're in love, Shakespeare."
I snort, leaning back in my chair. "I'm not in love. I just... notice things."
"Right. You notice her soul, her smile, her breath, the way she breathes near houseplants. You've been on this monologue for an hour, Mahir. I'm starting to think I'm falling in love with her at this point."
I roll my eyes, not missing the twitch of his lips. He's enjoying this way too much. "Spare me the theatrics, Nayan. You're incapable of falling in love with anyone who doesn't have a pulse on their wallet or a yacht in Monaco."
He blinks, surprised. It's the first time I've shut him down this neatly. Usually, I'm the one who endures his jabs in silence, but today? Today I feel... sharp. Vanya's effect, no doubt.
I shrug, lips curving into a small, smug smile. "What can I say? Spending time with Vanya has its perks. She's better at this. I'm learning."
He gives me an assessing look, like he's seeing something new. "I'll be damned. My uptight, grumpy best friend, growing a backbone. Who knew?"
"Don't get used to it," I warn, though I can't hide the satisfaction thrumming in my chest. "I'm still not interested in your dramatic monologues about soulmates and destiny."
