A/N: Apologies for not being able to update yesterday, was not keeping well , cope up with the pace of my updates for the next couple of days.
Here's a long chapter hopefully worth the wait.
Happy Reading! ð¦
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The grandeur of Jaipur shimmered under the night sky, its golden lights reflecting against the polished windows of Charu's lavish hotel suite. Yet, none of it soothed the storm within her.
The luxurious bed, the silk sheets, the dim glow of the chandelier-everything felt distant. Sleep evaded her, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.
And her mind, traitorous and relentless, refused to let go of one thought.
Abhir Sharma.
She had told herself she wasn't here for him. Had stubbornly convinced herself that attending his concert was merely an excuse to spend time with her family.
But then why did her thoughts keep circling back to the way his voice had softened when he said, Mujhe achha laga ki tum aayi, Charu?
Why did her pulse quicken when his fingers had brushed against hers while opening the door?
She exhaled sharply, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.
This was ridiculous.
She wasn't some infatuated teenager.
And yet, her heartbeat told a different story.
A sharp knock at the door made her jolt.
She frowned, glancing at the clock. Past midnight.
Who would-
Another knock. More insistent this time.
With a sigh, walked to the door, yanking it open-only to come face to face with the very person she had been trying to push out of her thoughts.
Abhir.
And something about him was... different.
There was no teasing smirk, no sarcastic quip waiting on the tip of his tongue.
He stood there in a hoodie and sweatpants, hands buried deep in his pockets, his gaze oddly solemn.
Charu folded her arms. "What do you want?"
He hesitated, his eyes flickering over her face, as if debating something.
Finally, he exhaled. "I couldn't sleep."
She arched a brow. "And you think I'm your personal lullaby?"
That earned her a faint smirk, but it didn't last. "No. I just... needed fresh air."
"Are you sleep walking?" she mocked.
His lips twitched. "You're infallible, Bansal... I just meant to ask if you're awake and if you'd want to take a walk."
Something about the way he said it-low, unguarded-made her pause.
Abhir Sharma wasn't someone who admitted vulnerability easily.
And yet, here he was, standing at her door in the dead of night, looking like a man at war with himself.
Charu sighed. "Fine. Let's go before someone sees you lurking around my room."
He didn't argue, merely stepping aside as she walked past him.
They wandered toward the open garden, where the air carried the faint scent of jasmine.
The silence between them was thick-not uncomfortable, but charged with something neither of them wanted to name.
Abhir sat on a bench, elbows resting on his knees, gaze distant.
Charu hesitated before sitting beside him, keeping just enough space between them.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, he broke the silence.
"I didn't mean to bring up your father earlier," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I didn't know."
Her posture stiffened, her fingers curling into the fabric of her robe.
He turned to face her. "I shouldn't have joked about it."
She forced out a breath. "It's fine."
"No, it's not." His tone was firm but gentle. "Ruhi told me. About what he did."
Her jaw tightened.
She hated pity.
Hated people knowing the parts of her past she had buried.
But when she finally looked at him, there was no pity in his eyes.
There was something else. Something raw. Something that made her feel exposed in a way she wasn't used to.
She looked away. "Is this what you wanted to talk about, Abhir?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he shifted, turning his body slightly toward her.
" I realized something" he said, voice quieter now.
She frowned. "What?"
"I don't know a damn thing about you, Charu."
Her heart stumbled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
His lips pressed together before he spoke again, softer this time. "You're always so composed. So guarded."
She forced a scoff. "And you think you'll be the one to figure me out?"
"I have no interest in solving you."
"Good. Because I'm not some puzzle."
He let out a dry chuckle. "Believe me, Bansal, I know."
She glared. "Told you not to call me that."
His lips twitched. "Fine. Charu it is."
She rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, he added, "The thing is... I think I get you more than you realize."
She stilled.
"Oh? And what exactly do you think you know about me, Mr. Sharma?"
His gaze didn't waver. "That you push people away before they can get too close."
Her breath hitched. "Very rich coming from you."
Her words carried an unspoken weight-a reference to his fractured relationship with the Goenkas.
He didn't deny it.
Instead, he studied her, something almost hesitant in his expression. "Maybe that's why we're always at each other's throats."
The vulnerability in his voice unsettled her.
She forced herself to scoff.
"This conversation is ridiculous."
Abhir tilted his head. "Is it?"
"Yes," she snapped. "You came here because you couldn't sleep. You got your share of fresh air. Now go."
But he didn't budge.
Instead, he leaned slightly forward, the subtle movement carrying a weight that made the air between them heavier.
Charu could feel his presence, like an invisible force pulling at the edges of her composure.
Her breath hitched. This was the moment where she should stand up, walk away, and lock her emotions behind her walls again.
But she couldn't.
She remained seated, heart thumping louder than her mind could think.
Abhir's eyes studied her, searching, as if he were trying to uncover something hidden inside her.
A flicker of understanding crossed his gaze, and for a moment, Charu didn't recognize the man in front of her.
Then, he straightened, his expression softening just slightly. "I can't leave you alone here let's go."
She scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, so now you're pretending to be a gentleman?" she mocked, crossing her arms.
A smirk tugged at his lips, and his eyes darkened with a knowing glint. "If I weren't, I would have barged straight into your room, not called you out in the open."
Charu was speechless for a brief second, thrown off balance by his confidence and the way he said it.
Her defenses wavered, but she quickly masked it with a scoff.
Abhir chuckled, low and amused, before stepping closer.
"Let me walk you back," he offered casually, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
She couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes, but the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips betrayed her. "Fine," she muttered.
As they walked in silence through the quiet hallway, Charu found herself acutely aware of his presence beside her, the steady rhythm of his footsteps matching hers.
The walk felt longer than it should have been, but neither of them spoke.
When they reached her door, Abhir stopped just short of the threshold.
He glanced at her, his gaze soft, and for a moment, the playfulness from earlier faded. "Goodnight, Charu," he murmured, his voice lower now.
She met his gaze and gave a small, resigned sigh. "Goodnight, Abhir."
He nodded, his lips curling into that familiar, unreadable smile before he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the distance.
Charu stood there for a moment, her hand still resting on the doorknob, the silence pressing against her.
Her walls had cracked, just a little.
And for the first time, she wasn't sure if she wanted to rebuild them.
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Abhir adjusted the strap of his guitar as he settled onto the wooden bench inside the small yet lively open garden nestled between the bustling stalls.
The air carried the scent of crayons, old books, and the faint aroma of freshly cooked food from the kitchen nearby.
A group of children, some barefoot, some in oversized clothes, huddled around him, their eager eyes shining with anticipation.
But his biggest challenge at the moment wasn't the kids-it was Sira, his overly persistent hairstylist, fussing over his hair with her ever-busy hands.
"Stay still Abhir" she muttered, attempting to tame his naturally unruly locks.
Abhir chuckled-light and carefree, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. "Sira, main bachchon ke liye music bajane aa raha hoon, koi Vogue cover nahi shoot kar raha."
Sira narrowed her eyes at him, pausing in her assault on his hair. "Kya... sab theek hai? Aaj subah tum kuch zyada hi cheerful lag rahe ho."
Abhir smirked, a little too pleased with himself. "Kya, main achhe mood mein nahi ho sakta?"
Sira folded her arms, inspecting him with suspicion. "Tum? Subah Subah achhe mood mein? It's very rare."
He just shrugged, the memory of last night flashing through his mind. Charu's walls had cracked-not much, but enough.
He saw it in her eyes, the way they wavered between defiance and something else.
Something she didn't want to name.
She wasn't unaffected by him.
She wanted to pretend she was, with all that arrogance and eye-rolling, but he saw through it now.
And knowing that?
It was enough to put him in an annoyingly good mood.
"I'm just feeling generous today," he finally said, flashing Sira a grin.
Sira gave him a dubious look but, with a dramatic sigh, finally relented. "Fine, fine. Be weirdly happy, like this always"
Abhir laughed, shaking his head as he turned back to the children.
"Alright, kiddos," he said, his voice full of energy. "Ready to make some music?"
A loud chorus of "YES!" erupted, their laughter mixing with the strumming of his guitar. As his fingers danced over the strings, their little voices filled the air, and for the first time in a long time, Abhir felt something settle inside him.
Maybe, just maybe, things were about to get a whole lot more interesting.
Charu had managed to avoid Abhir the breakfast this morning -not that she was actively trying.
At least, that's what she told herself.
But after last night?
After the way he looked at her, after the way she had let her guard slip for just a moment-no, she wasn't ready to face him again.
Now, as she wandered through the vibrant exhibition set up in the open grounds, she let the sights and scents distract her.
Stalls lined the street, displaying intricate Rajasthani artwork, handmade jewelry, and colorful textiles.
The air smelled of roasted peanuts and sweet jalebis, mingling with the faint hint of incense.
She let her fingers trail over a delicate embroidered dupatta, pretending to be interested in the craft, when a soft tune floated through the air.
Music.
This was different-raw, unpolished, carrying a warmth that made her pause.
Her feet moved on their own accord, following the melody down the street.
And then, she saw him.
Abhir Sharma, sitting on a wooden bench, completely at ease, surrounded by children who hung onto every note he played.
But it wasn't just the music that made her stop in her tracks.
It was him.
He strummed his guitar with a smile that reached his eyes, his entire face lit up in a way she had never seen before.
Gone was the cocky, insufferable rockstar who thrived on teasing her.
Instead, this Abhir was unpretentious, and radiating a kind of joy that felt so genuine it caught her off guard.
One of the little girls tugged at his hand, and he laughed, setting his guitar aside to twirl her in a playful dance.
More children joined in, giggling as they pulled him along with them.
And Charu... she found herself smiling.
Not because she wanted to.
But because she couldn't help it.
It was a rare sight, seeing him like this.
A sight she would never have believed if she hadn't witnessed it herself.
And that's exactly why she needed to leave.
Before she could get caught up in whatever ridiculous thoughts were forming in her mind, she turned to leave-
And that's when disaster struck.
Her foot caught on a loose rope tied to a stall's wooden pole.
Before she could steady herself, she heard a crash-followed by something cold and thick splattering all over her dress.
She froze.
The scent of fresh paint hit her first.
Then, as she glanced down, horror settled in.
A large bucket of blue paint had tipped over from the nearby stall-right onto her.
Her crisp white kurti was now ruined, streaks of blue dripping down her sleeves and soaking into the fabric.
Even her hair hadn't been spared, strands of it now sticking together in clumps of paint.
For a moment, she just stood there, speechless.
Then, before she could even figure out how to react, she heard it.
A deep chuckle.
Slow. Amused.
Dread pooled in her stomach.
She closed her eyes, praying she was imagining it.
But no.
When she finally turned her head, Abhir was standing there, arms crossed, his guitar slung across his back, watching her with open amusement.
And then, he smirked.
He drawled, tilting his head. "Kids looks like someone wanted to be the next Blue smurf."
"This is your fault!" she snapped, attempting to wipe some of the paint off-only to smear it further across her cheek.
Abhir raised an eyebrow. "Mera fault kaise? I wasn't the one running around like a blind bat."
"Oh, shut up. And stop looking at me like that."Charu groaned, glaring at him.
"Like what?" He smirked, tilting his head. "Like you're a walking modern-art disaster?"
"Shut up, Abhir!" She groaned, throwing her hands in the air, unknowingly splattering him with blue paint in the process.
Abhir stilled.
Charu blinked.
Silence.
And then-a slow, wicked smile spread across Abhir's face.
"Charu Bansal..." his voice dropped to a dangerously amused drawl. "Did you just-"
"No! Don't even think about it, Abhir!" she warned, stepping back.
Too late.
Before she could escape, Abhir swiped a hand over the paint smeared across his shirt and smudged it across her nose.
Charu gasped, outrage sparking in her eyes. "Abhir, you-"
"Payback time sweet heart" he said simply, grinning.
"You are such a child!" she fumed, grabbing his hoodie to wipe her hands on it.
"Arey!" Abhir tried to dodge, but she was faster.
Within seconds, the two of them were locked in the most absurd paint war, smearing each other with blue handprints like bickering school kids which even left the kids amused.
Laughter rang through the open ground, completely unrestrained.
For the first time in forever, Charu wasn't holding herself back.
And for the first time, Abhir realized something that terrified him.
He liked this version of her.
Not the serious, work-consumed Charu.
But this one-the one who would fight with him, laugh with him.
The one who looked like she belonged in his world, even if she kept convincing herself otherwise.
As their laughter slowly faded, both of them breathing hard from the playful chaos, their eyes met.
A silent shift in the air.
Something unspoken passed between them-something neither of them were ready to name.
It was Charu who broke the moment first, stepping back, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they had been.
"I-I should go clean up," she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Abhir, who never ran out of things to say, found himself...silent.
For once, he didn't have a sarcastic remark, a teasing comment, or a smirk to hide behind.
Because something had changed.
Something was shifting between them.