A few days after the move, the frantic energy of unpacking settles into the quiet hum of a new life taking shape.
Amoli's apartment, shared with her brother and now a safe harbor for Naina and Akash, is no longer just a refuge; it's a home. It's a space filled with the comfortable chaos of overlapping lives:Arnav's art supplies on the dining table, Naina's endless mugs of tea, and the constant, easy thread of Amoli's text conversations with Mahika, a lifeline of warmth that anchors her through the day.
She's sitting on the floor, sorting through a box of old photographs, when her phone buzzes.
I know we've technically been on a date that involved a thunderstorm and a near-death experience by pottery wheel...
A small smile plays on Amoli's lips. She types back, her thumbs moving quickly.
Don't forget the impromptu coming-out party care of your best friend.
The three dots appear instantly.
how could I forget? that rainbow cake was the highlight of my week.
but I was wondering if you'd let me take you on a date tonight.
Amoli's heart gives a familiar, dizzying lurch. The question hangs in the air, simple and direct and terrifyingly wonderful. She feels a blush creep up her neck.
Are you formally asking me out, Mahika Arora?
not you saying this like we haven't already been on dates... but yeah. I am. pls say yes before I reorganize my bookshelf by genre for the fourth time this week out of sheer anxiety
Yes. a thousand times yes. but I have one condition
Anything
Promise me we won't end up in a bathroom
Mahika's string of laughing emojis is the brightest thing Amoli has seen all day.
Later, as evening approaches, Amoli stands before her bedroom mirror with a sense of wonder that feels almost foreign. The anxiety coiling in her stomach isn't the sharp, painful kind born of fear; it's the fluttering, hopeful kind born of anticipation. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, she's getting ready for something that feels purely hers.
She pulls out a soft periwinkle blue dress from her closet, letting the fabric slide between her fingers. It's simple and understated: thin straps, a flowing skirt that catches the light when she moves. It feels like a calm breath made tangible, like the woman she's becoming with Mahika: softer, steadier, unafraid of taking up space.
She takes her time getting ready, each small ritual—the careful application of mascara, the brush of lip gloss, the way she lets her hair fall naturally over her shoulders—feeling like an act of quiet rebellion against every voice that ever told her to make herself smaller.
Mahika, meanwhile, is a mess.
Her apartment, usually a bastion of organized calm, looks like a storm has blown through it. Two discarded outfits lie crumpled on her bed. One too formal, the other too casual. She finally settles on dark jeans that fit like they were made for her and a cream-colored silk sweater, soft enough that she keeps running her palms over the fabric. It's understated but elegant, and she knows the way the neckline shows off her collarbones is something Amoli notices.
The thought makes warmth bloom across her skin.
She applies mascara with hands that aren't quite steady, adds the peach lip gloss she knows Amoli likes the taste of. It's ridiculous, she thinks. They've been through hell and back together, have held each other through panic attacks and family drama, have slept curled around each other like question marks seeking answers.. But this...this simple, planned date... it feels momentous.
YOU ARE READING
Saanjh | ✓
Romance[Formerly known as 'Trinkets'] Mahika and Amoli can't stand each other, but that's not the only thing they have in common. Mahika treats Amoli like she's childish. Amoli thinks Mahika is a stuck-up prude. But Mahika's best friend and Amoli's brother...
