67

The soft scratching of a pen against paper filled Tara's studio as she hunched over her notes, deep in concentration. The evening sun streamed in through the window, casting golden hues over her desk. She was in the zone, her focus unwavering—until her phone buzzed beside her.

She glanced at the screen. Aisha.

Aisha: "Listen, we're planning a rooftop girls' night tonight, so you're coming."

Tara sighed, rolling her eyes with a small smile.

Tara: "I don't know, I have a lot of work..."

The reply was instant.

Aisha: "Shush. No excuses. You're coming. End of discussion."

Tara chuckled to herself, shaking her head.

Tara: "Okay, fine."

She set her phone down, trying to return to her notes, but her mind kept drifting. A girls' night sounded nice. A break from endless studying, a moment to just breathe.

The clock ticked away, and soon the sky turned dusky blue. Tara had nearly forgotten about the plans until her phone lit up again.

Aisha: "Listen, girls' night—don't forget. And dress well. We're taking Instagram pictures."

Tara let out a soft laugh.

Tara: "Okay, done."

She got up, stretching slightly before walking over to her wardrobe. Her fingers skimmed through her clothes before she pulled out a dress—simple yet elegant. The fabric was soft, flowing just above her knees, with fitted sleeves that ended slightly above her elbows. She paired it with skin-tight stockings, the contrast making her look effortlessly chic.

Sitting at her vanity, she kept her makeup clean and minimal—kajal lining her eyes, a touch of blush dusted over her cheeks, and a soft pink lip tint. She ran her fingers through her hair, letting it fall naturally over her shoulders.

Satisfied, she picked up her phone.

Tara: "Let me know when you guys are heading up."

Aisha: "Okay, done!"

She leaned back, feeling a quiet excitement build within her. It had been a while since she had done something just for fun.

About 45 minutes later, her phone buzzed again.

Aisha: "Let's go!"

Tara: "Okay."

Aisha: "You go up first, I'm coming too."

Tara shrugged, typing back a quick "Cool." before slipping on her flats and stepping out of her studio. The building was quiet, most people having retired for the night or busy with their own work. She climbed the stairs leading to the rooftop, her hand pushing open the door—

And then she froze.

The rooftop was transformed.

Golden fairy lights were strung along the railings, their soft glow illuminating the space in a dreamy haze. A small table sat in the middle, set up with flickering candles and cushions arranged neatly around it. The faint hum of soft music played in the background, blending with the cool night breeze.

Her breath hitched.

"This looks beautiful," she murmured to herself, completely mesmerized.

And then—

"So do you."

A deep, familiar voice echoed behind her, sending a shiver down her spine.

Tara turned sharply, her heart lodging itself in her throat.

Aryan stood there, leaning casually against the doorway as he closed the terrace door, his dark eyes locked onto her. He was dressed simply—black jeans, a fitted white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms—but something about the way he looked at her made her feel entirely too warm.

"Aryan?" Her voice came out softer than she intended. "What are you doing here?"

His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he stepped toward her. "What do you think?"

Tara blinked, the realization slowly dawning on her. She turned her head slightly, eyes scanning the rooftop again. The fairy lights, the setup, the music...

This wasn't a girls' night.

This was a date.

Her breath caught as she turned back to Aryan, who was now only a few feet away from her, watching her reaction closely.

"You planned this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aryan nodded, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "I wanted to take you out properly." He exhaled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "No interruptions. No distractions. Just us."

Tara's heart pounded in her chest, the weight of his words settling over her.

"You tricked me," she murmured, though there was no real annoyance in her voice.

Aryan chuckled. "A little."

She shook her head, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."

"And yet," Aryan said, tilting his head slightly, "you're still here."

She opened her mouth to reply but found no words. Because he was right. She was still standing there, in the middle of this beautifully set-up rooftop, staring at him like he had just knocked the air out of her.

Because he had.

Aryan took another step forward, now just inches away from her. "So, Tara," he murmured, his voice dropping slightly, "will you have dinner with me?"

Tara swallowed, looking up at him.

She should say no. She should walk away before she let herself fall deeper into something that scared her.

But under the soft golden lights, with the city skyline twinkling in the distance and Aryan looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered—

She didn't want to say no.

So, instead, she exhaled, a small smile finally breaking through.

"Okay," she whispered.

Aryan's smirk widened, his eyes lighting up.

"Good," he said, offering his hand.

Tara hesitated for only a second before slipping her hand into his.

And just like that, the night began.

Tara let Aryan guide her toward the cozy setup, her fingers still lightly intertwined with his. The rooftop air was crisp, carrying the scent of the city mixed with something warm—something familiar.

As she settled onto the cushion he pulled out for her, Aryan moved toward a bag resting beside the table. With a teasing smile, he pulled out a neatly packed pizza box and set it in front of her.

Tara blinked, staring at it before looking back at him. "Wait... is this—?"

"The one and only," Aryan confirmed, sitting across from her. "Your favorite pizza place in Oxford."

Tara's lips parted in surprise. "But... how?"

Aryan leaned back, smirking. "I remember everything."

She swallowed, warmth spreading through her chest. He really did.

"You always said their pizza was the best in town," Aryan continued, opening the box. The aroma of fresh, cheesy goodness wafted through the air. "And since you never shut up about it, I figured it was worth tracking down a way to get it here."

Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I did not 'never shut up about it.'"

Aryan chuckled. "You kinda did."

Tara huffed but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She reached for a slice, the warmth of it seeping into her fingers. "Well... I appreciate the effort," she admitted.

Aryan grinned, watching her take the first bite. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second as the familiar taste hit her tongue, and Aryan just looked at her, a soft amusement in his gaze.

"So?" he asked. "Does it live up to the memory?"

Tara opened her eyes, nodding. "Almost."

Aryan raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

She smirked. "It tastes better directly from the deep dish."

Aryan let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. I go through all this trouble, and you still find a way to roast me."

Tara laughed, and Aryan just sat back, watching her with a soft fondness.

"So..." Tara spoke after a moment, "this whole setup. What's the occasion?"

Aryan shrugged. "Do I need a reason?"

Tara gave him a look. "Aryan."

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he said. "I guess I just wanted to spend time with you."

Tara's fingers stilled around her pizza. He was so... open about it. Like it was the simplest thing in the world.

She looked down, biting her lip. "It's been a while, huh?"

Aryan nodded. "Yeah. And I missed this."

She met his gaze again, something unspoken passing between them.

Aryan, never one to dwell too long on heavy emotions, smirked and leaned forward. "Also," he said, "I figured I owed you a real date. You know, to make up for all the times I was annoying."

Tara laughed. "Oh, so you admit it?"

"I've never denied it," Aryan said, grinning.

They continued eating, conversation flowing effortlessly. They talked about random things—the ridiculous professors at uni, their old arguments, the times Aisha had to play mediator between them.

And then Aryan set his pizza down and stood up.

"Come on," he said, offering his hand.

Tara frowned. "Where are we going?"

Aryan didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed his phone, scrolled through it for a second, and then—

The soft, unmistakable melody of Tum Se Hi filled the rooftop.

Tara's breath hitched.

Their song.

She looked up at Aryan, her expression unreadable. "You still have this song?"

Aryan smirked. "I still have our playlist."

Tara stared at him, her heart doing something traitorous in her chest. The nostalgia of it—the memories, the moments they'd shared while this song played in the background—came rushing back all at once.

"Dance with me," Aryan said softly, his hand still outstretched.

Tara hesitated. But then, almost without thinking, she placed her hand in his.

Aryan pulled her close, one hand resting lightly on her waist, the other holding hers securely. Tara's free hand found his shoulder, and they swayed to the music, the world around them fading into the background.

It felt... familiar. Easy.

Tara wasn't sure if it was the song or the warmth of his touch, but she felt safe.

Aryan's gaze remained fixed on her. "You're thinking too much," he murmured.

Tara blinked up at him. "What?"

Aryan smirked. "Your brain's working overtime. Just... be here."

Tara exhaled, forcing herself to let go. To just exist in this moment.

They moved in slow circles under the fairy lights, the city skyline stretching out behind them. And for a second, it felt like no time had passed at all.

After the song faded, Aryan led her toward a small wooden bench at the corner of the rooftop. Tara sat down, adjusting her dress slightly, and Aryan disappeared for a moment.

When he returned, he had two wine glasses in his hands.

Tara raised an eyebrow. "Aryan..."

He smirked.

"I don't drink," she reminded him.

Aryan's smirk widened. "Who said anything about wine?"

And then, with a dramatic flourish, he pulled out a thermos and poured a steaming liquid into both wine glasses.

Tara watched in amusement before realization dawned. She let out a laugh. "You brought chai?"

Aryan handed her a glass, taking the seat beside her. "You have a thing for drinking out of fancy glasses. Thought I'd indulge you."

Tara chuckled, shaking her head. "This is so ridiculous."

And then, almost in sync, they both murmured under their breath—

"Om Shanti Om moment."

They froze, eyes locking.

Aryan grinned. Tara, despite herself, blushed.

The moment stretched between them, thick with something neither of them could name.

Aryan shifted slightly, closing some of the space between them. "You always overthink," he murmured.

Tara looked away. "I just..."

Aryan reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Stop running, Tara."

She swallowed.

He leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against her cheek. "You still feel it too, don't you?"

Tara didn't answer.

She didn't need to.

The silence said everything.

The night had settled in comfortably around them, the city lights flickering in the distance. The rooftop was quiet, save for the soft hum of the music still playing in the background. Aryan and Tara sat side by side on the wooden bench, their hands wrapped around the warm chai-filled wine glasses.

At first, they drank in silence, the warmth of the chai seeping into their fingers, the unspoken emotions settling between them.

Then, Aryan shifted slightly, placing his glass down and turning toward her. His fingers lightly brushed against the back of her hand before he took it, intertwining them together. Tara glanced at him but didn't pull away.

"Do you know what today is?" Aryan asked, his voice soft.

Tara frowned slightly. "Tuesday?" she tried.

Aryan chuckled, shaking his head. "No, dumbo. The date."

She hesitated but didn't reply.

Aryan exhaled, his thumb tracing slow circles on her palm. "Today was the day we went on our first ever date."

Tara's brows furrowed. "That wasn't a date—"

"It was," Aryan cut in, smiling. "We just didn't realize it at the time."

Tara rolled her eyes but let him continue.

"We weren't together back then, but that was the first time we actually explored what we should have explored way back in school," Aryan mused. "We never thought of each other that way before, but that day? That was when everything changed."

Tara remained quiet, staring down at their joined hands.

Aryan sighed, his voice turning serious. "Tara, I lost you before. I don't want to do it again."

Her heart clenched at his words.

"I know I screwed up," he admitted, meeting her gaze. "And I'm not going to make excuses for it. But I will make it up to you."

Tara's breath hitched as Aryan's grip on her hand tightened just slightly.

"I'll plan as many dates as I need to," he continued. "Hell, I'll even go to London to get your favorite hot chocolate from that place you love."

Tara let out a small chuckle at that. "That's a bit excessive, don't you think?"

Aryan grinned. "For you? Never."

She shook her head, but the warmth in her eyes was undeniable.

"I miss my girlfriend," Aryan admitted, his voice quieter this time.

Tara inhaled sharply, looking away for a moment. She wasn't oblivious to the longing in his tone, the sincerity behind his words.

But then, she finally spoke the truth that had been weighing on her chest.

"Aryan..." she started, hesitating. "It's not that I don't want this."

His expression softened, silently urging her to continue.

"Yes, your mom has opened up now," she admitted. "And that does boost my confidence..."

Aryan nodded, sensing there was more.

"But..." Tara bit her lip. "University is ending. This is our final year. I don't know what the future holds."

Aryan listened intently.

"And last time," she exhaled, "long distance didn't go well."

Aryan didn't even hesitate. "Then we won't do long distance."

Tara blinked. "Aryan—"

"I'll stay with you," he said firmly.

Tara shook her head, a small frown forming. "You have a family business, Aryan."

"So what?" he countered. "I can still work here."

She let out a sigh. "Be practical, come on."

Aryan chuckled, squeezing her hand. "I am being practical."

Tara gave him a look, but Aryan just smiled, his tone turning reassuring. "Tara, no matter where we work, no matter how crazy life gets—I'll be there."

She swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around his.

"I'll find time," Aryan promised. "I won't let you feel this way again." His voice softened even more. "I won't let you feel like you have to go through it alone. I promise."

Something in Tara's chest cracked open at his words.

She could see it—feel it. The certainty in his voice, the determination in his eyes. He wasn't just saying these things to convince her. He meant them.

And that? That was what made all the difference.

Aryan took a deep breath, then, without breaking eye contact, slowly got down on one knee in front of her.

Tara's heart stopped.

Aryan smirked up at her. "Tara, I'd do some grand, dramatic speech right now, but honestly? I just want my girl back."

Her lips parted, her breath shaky.

His thumb lightly brushed against her knuckles. "So..." He tilted his head. "Will you be my girlfriend again?"

Tara's eyes softened, and slowly, a smile tugged at her lips.

She nodded.

Aryan grinned, standing up and pulling her into his arms. Tara let out a soft laugh, burying her face in his chest as he held her close.

He pressed a light kiss to her temple, whispering, "Finally."

And for the first time in a long, long while... everything felt right.

💛