Chapter 8: Moonlit Promises and Engagement Glow
The Chennai night was warm, with a soft breeze carrying the scent of jasmine from the neighbor's garden. Divya lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily, her mind a whirlwind of Arjun. His rain-soaked smile from their last date played on a loop in her head—the way his eyes crinkled, the brush of his lips against hers, the way he called her his "favourite heroine."
*Aiyo, Divya, enna di, full-on love-vey pannita pola irukke,* she thought, her cheeks warming. She could still feel the electric buzz of his hand in hers, the way his voice dropped when he said, "You're my person." Her phone sat silent, but she was itching to text him, maybe send a cheesy *Crash Landing on You* meme to keep their vibe going.
She rolled over, hugging her pillow, imagining their small engagement next week—just family, no big drama, exactly how they wanted it. *But what if I'm not ready? What if this is too fast?* The doubts crept in, but they melted when she pictured Arjun's laugh, his sneaky murukku deliveries, the way he stood up for their "us" against their families.
*He's not just a mapillai. He's... mine.*
A soft tap on her balcony door snapped her out of her daydream. She froze, heart racing. *Aiyo, ghost ah? Thief ah?*
She tiptoed to the curtain, peering out, only to see Arjun crouched on her balcony, grinning like a kid who'd just pulled off a heist. He was in a black t-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly messy, holding a small paper bag that smelled suspiciously like filter coffee.
Divya flung open the door, her eyes wide with shock.
"Arjun! Enna ma idhu?! You're sneaking into my room like some Tamil movie hero? What if my amma catches you?"
He slipped inside, closing the door quietly, his grin unapologetic. "Shh, ma , low voice! I had to see you. Couldn't wait till the engagement. Plus, I brought coffee."
He held up the bag, the aroma of frothy filter coffee filling the room. She crossed her arms, trying to look stern but failing as a smile broke through. "You're mad, mapillai. If Chithi's CCTV senses kick in, we're done for."
"You are Worth the risk," he said, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto hers. The moonlight streaming through the window cast soft shadows, making the moment feel like a scene from their own K-drama. "I was thinking about you all day, Divya. That rain kiss... I can't get it out of my head."
Her breath hitched, her shock fading into a warm flutter. "You're trouble," she whispered, but she didn't move away as he closed the gap between them. Her room felt smaller, the air charged with something intense, like the calm before a monsoon storm. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
"Divya," he said, his voice low, "I know this engagement is just a step, but I need you to know... I'm all in. You're not just my fiancée-to-be. You're my everything."
Her heart pounded, the sincerity in his eyes undoing her. "Arjun," she murmured, stepping closer, their faces inches apart. "I was scared of all this—marriage, families, the whole deal. But with you... it feels like an adventure I want to take."
He smiled, slow and soft, and then he kissed her—not the gentle, rain-soaked brush from before, but something deeper, more urgent, like he was pouring all his feelings into it. Her hands found his shoulders, pulling him closer, the world shrinking to just them, the moonlight, and the faint hum of Chennai outside. The kiss was intense but sweet, full of unspoken promises, and when they pulled back, both were breathless, laughing softly.
"Aiyo, Arjuu" Divya said, her cheeks flushed, "you're gonna get me grounded for life."
"Blame the moon," he teased, still holding her hand. "It's too romantic tonight."
They sat on her bed, sipping the filter coffee he'd sneaked in, sharing quiet laughs and whispers about their engagement plans. "No big drama, right?" Divya said. "Just family, some good food, and maybe an AR Rahman playlist."
"And murukku," he added, winking. "Gotta keep our vibe."
Before he left, climbing back out the balcony like a true Tamil hero, he turned to her. "One week till you're officially my fiancée. Ready, runaway heroine?"
"Ready," she said, her smile brighter than the moonlight.---
A week later, the engagement day arrived, a small but warm affair at Divya's house in Anna Nagar. The living room was decked out with jasmine garlands, a small pooja setup, and a table overflowing with filter coffee, ladoos, and—thanks to Arjun—murukku. Only close family was there: Divya's parents, Chithi, Arjun's parents, Priya, and a couple of cousins who promised not to post on Instagram. Divya wore a simple peach saree, her amma's choice, but with her favorite silver jhumkas for a touch of herself. Arjun was in a cream kurta, looking nervous but happy, his eyes finding hers the moment he walked in.
The ceremony was short and sweet—a ring exchange, a priest chanting mantras, and their parents beaming like they'd won the lottery. Priya, true to her word, played an AR Rahman playlist, Mouna Ragam's "Chinna Chinna Vanna Kuyil" filling the room with soft romance. When
Arjun slipped the ring onto Divya's finger, his hand lingered, and he whispered, "Divya ma, my heroine, you're stuck with me now."
She grinned, sliding his ring on. "Only if you keep sneaking me coffee, hero sirr ."
The families cheered, Chithi wiping dramatic tears and declaring, "Like Vijay and Simran, perfect match!"
As the evening wound down, Divya and Arjun stole a moment on the balcony, the same one she'd climbed down to start this whole adventure. The Chennai night was alive with crickets and distant traffic, the stars peeking through the haze. Arjun took her hand, his thumb tracing the new ring.
"This is just the start, Divya. You, me, and a million more coffee dates."
She leaned into him, her heart full.
"And rain scenes, and K-drama marathons. We're writing our own story now, Arjun."
He kissed her forehead, soft and warm.
"The best story yet."
Love shines brightest in quiet moments—moonlit kisses, simple rings, and the promise of a future you choose together.
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