The Classy Thirteen

Surrey Hills

Prerna's POV

The night was still, save for the faint hum of the city outside. I was wrapped snugly in my blanket, sinking into the plush mattress of my hotel bed. Sleep was just beginning to envelop me when a faint knock echoed from the door. At first, I thought I’d imagined it, but it came again, firmer this time. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up, glancing at the bedside clock. It was well past midnight.

Who could it be at this hour? I thought, hesitant but curious. I shuffled to the door, unlocking it cautiously. As the door creaked open, there stood Vivaan, a soft grin playing on his lips and a hotel trolley standing beside him.

"Vivaan? Tum?" I whispered, my confusion evident.

"Madam, would you please let me in?" he said with a playful air, glancing at his wristwatch.

"Oh…yeah, sorry. Andar aao," I mumbled, stepping aside to let him in. He pushed the trolley into the room and shut the door behind him. My eyes darted between him and the trolley, trying to decipher his intentions.

"Yeh sab kya hai? Itni raat ko tum mere room mein kya kar rahe ho?" I asked, tilting my head, equal parts amused and curious.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took my hands in his, leading me to the bed. We sat face to face, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

"Tum woh sab chhoro," he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "Mujhe ek baat batao. Would it make you uncomfortable if I just kissed you, without asking for your permission?"

His question caught me off guard. I blinked, my heart thudding in my chest. After a brief moment of reflection, I shook my head.

"No," I whispered, barely audible. His lips curved into a wider smile, and he glanced at his watch again.

He played instrumental version of I wanna be yours. And placed his phone on the bedside table.

Then, without further ado, he leaned in and captured my lips with his. The world seemed to blur around me as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently exploring mine. It was sudden, unexpected, yet utterly mesmerizing. Time seemed to pause, the only sound in the room our soft breaths mingling.

After what felt like both an eternity and a fleeting second, he pulled away, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Happy birthday, Prerna," he said, his voice warm and genuine.

A gasp escaped my lips as realization dawned upon me. It’s my birthday. I hadn’t even remembered. Smiling, I whispered, "Thank you."

He stood up, walking over to the trolley. With a dramatic flourish, he removed the cover, revealing a beautiful white cake adorned with dark red roses. My breath hitched at the sight.

"Tumne yeh sab..." I began, my voice trailing off.

"Abhi ruko," he interrupted, placing candles on the cake and lighting them. Then, grinning like a child, he rolled the trolley closer to me. "Ab isse kaatna padega. Main help nahi karunga," he teased.

I laughed, taking the knife in my hand. As I sliced through the soft cake, Vivaan began singing the birthday song, his tone deliberately exaggerated. The sheer earnestness of his off-tune singing made me laugh uncontrollably. His claps, enthusiastic as a child’s, only added to the moment.

"Tumhe kabhi kisi reality show mein try karna chahiye," I said between laughs. "Talent toh full hai."

"Mujhe lagta hai judge mujhe cake khila kar hi jeetne dega," he replied, smirking.