Life is like a rollercoaster,
it has its ups and downs,
but it's your choice whether to scream or enjoy the ride...
When life's rollercoaster throws you off track, do you scream, or do you hold on tight?
For Ira and Rudraksh, the journey is far from...
The rooftop lay hushed in the late-afternoon lull. Sunlight poured freely here, spilling over the open concrete, warming the air into languor.
Siddharth sat sprawled in a white plastic chair dragged close to the parapet, one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee. A black jacket was flung over his head, carelessly draped, shielding his eyes from the glare, while his chest rose and fell in an unhurried rhythm.
A small folding table stood within arm's reach. An open laptop occupied its center. Beside it lay a few papers held down by a small stone. A pen rested diagonally across one page, abandoned. His mobile phone lay face-up near the edge, silent.
The faint, unhurried jingle of anklets floated up from the staircase. Each step carried a pause, until the jingling grew closer, then stopped.
A shadow stretched across the concrete, inching toward his feet before halting just short of them. It lingered there, wavering slightly, as though unsure whether to cross the invisible line.
The phone rang, and the shadow flinched.
From beneath the jacket came an irritated groan, low and hoarse. His hand shifted, fingers flexing once, then he tugged the jacket down slowly, inch by inch.
Tousled hair fell into further disarray, strands sticking to his forehead. His dark eyes squinted open beneath heavy lashes – reluctant, yet watchful. He exhaled, long and slow. Dry, thin lips parted, flushed red, almost unnaturally vivid against the fatigue etched into his face. A faint crease formed between his brows as his gaze lifted to the person standing before him.
"Ira."
Silence.
"Ira!"
"Ha!" Ira blinked hard, startled, as though pulled out of a thought she hadn't realized she was lost in.
Siddharth lifted his brows slightly, studying her with quiet amusement.
Ira blinked again, then her gaze dropped to her hands.
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"Food," she blurted, lifting the steel tray and water bottle she'd been clutching. She stepped forward and leaned in to place them on the table beside him, careful not to disturb the papers or the laptop.
"We'll leave for the riverbank in an hour," she said, a little hesitant. "Please... finish the food."
Before he could respond, she turned away. Her footsteps retreated toward the stairs, leaving behind the soft music of her anklets.
Something unguarded loosened in Siddharth's face. The tension around his mouth eased, and a smile curved there without permission, threatening to stretch wider—
The phone rang again.
Siddharth's smile stilled, and his eyelids dropped to the screen.
