This chapter is so special for me😭😭💗 I think you can guess what is going to happen here after reading the chapter's name. It took me the whole day to write this chapter but it's worth it.

I never thought I could write with so much detail seriously I poured details even in the smallest gesture 😭😭💗uff!

Enjoy reading🍿🌷💗

(Comment kar dena plz so I can know whether you are liking it or not)

Samiksha pov

As the night crept in, the stars stretched lazily across the sky, glittering like tiny mischievous secrets. After the chaotic dinner filled with dramatic food fights, unnecessary bickering, and Ekta Kapoor-level tension between some of the couples, we all finally retreated to our rooms.

I plopped onto the soft mattress, my mind still trapped in an endless spiral of brain static. It had been a long day—filled with more romance than my single pringle self could handle. But right now, my brain had latched onto one specific, absurd thing.

"Reyansh College of Hotel Management Nizamabad blah blah… Oh dear, parents!"

No. No. No. Not again.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to reboot my brain. For god’s sake, focus, Samiksha! Do something productive for once.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up my phone, thumbs dancing over the screen as I tried to type out the list of things I had been meaning to do for weeks.

1. Update pending chapters

2. Actually finish a book instead of abandoning it halfway

3. Maybe finally respond to all the texts I’ve ignored for days??

Yes, perfect. I was just about to start writing when—

"OYEEEEEEEEEE!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a loud shriek filled my room. Before I could react, my door flew open with the force of a Bollywood climax scene.

There she stood. The chaos queen herself. Aarohi.

"Jaaneman!" she yelled dramatically, grinning like she just discovered a cheat code to life.

"Aarohi, what—"

Before I could complete my sentence, she sauntered in, kicked off her slippers like she owned the place, and flopped onto my bed with a pillow in hand.

"Hope you weren’t planning to sleep, because I refuse to let you." She flashed an impish grin before pulling out her phone and tapping rapidly on the screen. A few beeps later, she pressed the phone to her ear and, without warning, screamed at the top of her lungs.

"OYE VAANIIIIIIIII! JALDII AAAAAA!"

I swear, for a split second, I saw my soul leave my body.

"Are you trying to break my eardrums?!" I screeched, clutching my heart.

Aarohi waved me off and collapsed dramatically onto the bed. "Samiksha, jaaneman, we need a night of full-blown gossip and chaos in this dull village! It’s a crime if we don’t!"

Before I could argue, our door burst open—again—with the force of an earthquake. And there stood our poor victim. Vaani.

Her eyes were still half-lidded with sleep, her hair sticking up in at least four different directions, and a visible scowl on her face. She looked like she had just fought three lions in her dreams and lost.

"For the love of God, what do you want?" she grumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Do you guys know what time it is?"

"IT’S TIME FOR FRIENDSHIP AND LATE-NIGHT TALKS," Aarohi declared dramatically, like she was narrating the trailer for some Oscar-winning film. "Shut up and sit, yaar."

Vaani groaned but obeyed, plopping down next to me, snatching my bag of chips without hesitation.

"Arey uts mine also let me be a little bit productive." I muttered, snatching the chips back.

"Samiksha," Aarohi deadpanned, "since when does sending three texts in two weeks and staring at a blank Google Doc qualify as being productive?"

"I HATE YOU," I declared, but I couldn’t stop my smile.

We sat there, giggling and shoving each other like a bunch of sleep-deprived maniacs, the room echoing with our late-night delirium. Aarohi, being the chaotic storm that she was, suggested a game.

"Let’s play ‘We Listen and We Don’t Judge’."

Vaani and I shared a look before shrugging. "Okay, why not?" I said, grabbing another chip. Vaani, her mouth full, just nodded.

Aarohi took the first turn, setting the bar so low it was practically in the core of the Earth.

"When I was a kid, before I farted, I used to put my hand on my pichwada… then smell it."

There was a long, stunned silence.

The betrayal I felt in that moment? Unparalleled.

"EW. EW. EW," I gagged dramatically, clutching my stomach. Vaani, on the other hand, spat out the chips she had been chewing.

"Aarohi… wtf?" Vaani gawked at her like she had grown two extra heads.

Aarohi just cackled, completely unbothered. "What? I was a curious child!"

"Bro," Vaani wheezed, wiping tears of laughter. "We’re not judging, but we’re definitely judging."

"Alright, my turn," I announced, shaking off the trauma.

Taking a deep breath, I began. "So, you both know how obsessed I get when a good song plays, right? Well, last year, during that school trip, I had a moment—"

Aarohi and Vaani leaned in, their eyes glittering with anticipation.

"Okay, so... Last month, during a trip, our whole class was vibing to some cringe ‘90s song, right? Everyone was just swaying… but then… Beedi Jalaile came on."

Aarohi’s eyes widened in horror. "No, you didn’t—"

"Oh, I did," I groaned. "Everyone was casually moving, but me? I WENT INTO FULL-ON ITEM NUMBER MODE and I TWERKED. And just when I thought I was slaying it, I turned around and saw the principal… staring at me… while beedi jalaile played in the background."

There was a moment of silence.

Then Vaani snorted. Loudly.

"Samiksha, we’re not judging, but," she wheezed. "Why were you even twerking—"

"I WAS NOT TWERKING!" I clutched my pillow. "I was just— I was—"

"You were what? Exercising in the middle of a water break?" Aarohi teased, and that was it. Vaani was now on the floor, wheezing like a dying dolphin.

"You guys suck," I muttered. "I’m traumatized."

Vaani wiped a tear from her eye. "So are we, Samiksha. So are we."

And so the night went on, full of chaotic laughter, weird confessions, and a concerning lack of sleep. And even though I never got that stupid "Reyansh College of Hotel Management" meme out of my head

The night went exactly how a girls' night should—complete madness. We started with a RomCom marathon, throwing cushions at the screen whenever a male lead did something stupid (which was every five minutes, honestly). In between movies, we lathered on face masks, looking like shiny, unbothered queens while gossiping about every possible thing—who was dating whom, which teacher was the worst, and why life felt like a tragic comedy. The laughter wasn’t just soft giggles; it was the loud, gasping-for-air, clutching-our-stomachs kind—BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAH.

At one point, Vaani laughed so hard she snorted, which only made Aarohi fall off the bed, making us laugh even more. But just when I thought we were in this together till sunrise, those two betrayers crashed at half-past three.

One minute they were cackling, and the next, snoring like babies, leaving me wide awake and feeling like the last warrior standing in battle. I tried closing my eyes, tossing and turning, but nope—sleeping anywhere other than my own bed felt like trying to do yoga on a roller coaster.

Now, my body was restless, my mind was buzzing, and the four walls felt suffocating. I needed air. But what could I do? Sneak out to the balcony? Walk around the house like some haunted spirit? Or just sit by the window and dramatically stare at the moon, pretending I was in a movie?

Abeer's pov

Sleep was supposed to be a natural thing, a simple act of closing one’s eyes and drifting into oblivion. But how could I? How could I possibly close my eyes when all I could see was her? Samiksha.

She wasn’t just a thought in my mind anymore—she was the thought. The one that lingered between every breath, the one that refused to be silenced even in the dead of the night. I never imagined I would fall for her. Not like this. Not so intensely. Not so hopelessly. But guess who’s completely, utterly, and irrevocably smitten now? Me.

If it were in my hands, I would spend every fleeting second with her. Every heartbeat, every moment—woven into her presence, wrapped around her laughter, lost in the depths of her eyes. How did she do this to me? How did she become the gravity that pulled me in, the chaos I never wanted to escape?

And that’s how I ended up here—sleepless, breathless, staring at the moon like a fool in love. The night was still, but my heart wasn’t. It drummed against my ribs, restless, aching, longing. If she were the moon, then I was the tide—always drawn to her, never quite touching, always returning to where she was.

Just as I was about to stand, ready to finally give in to the exhaustion, my eyes caught a flicker of movement outside. A shadow, a silhouette—her.

Samiksha.

Sneaking out of the villa like a thief in the night. My lips curled into a smirk. Troublemaker.

And in that moment, as I watched her, something clicked inside me—something undeniable, something urgent. If not now, then never.

I couldn’t keep this inside any longer. I couldn’t spend another night staring at the moon, wishing she was beside me. No. She needed to know.

Because Samiksha wasn’t just a passing thought. She wasn’t just a fleeting moment. She was everything.

And I was going to tell her now.

As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my shirt, I caught my own reflection—a lovesick fool blushing like an idiot. I scoffed at myself, but the smile on my lips refused to fade. Samiksha. Her name alone was enough to set my soul on fire, to make my heart trip over itself in reckless abandon.

How did she do this to me? How did she become the poetry I never knew I could write? She was a storm wrapped in laughter, a wildfire hidden behind mischief. A hurricane with the softest heart, unpredictable yet mesmerizing, the kind of person who walked into your life and made you question how you ever lived without her.

She wasn’t just beautiful—she was art. The kind you don’t just admire from a distance but get lost in. Her eyes held constellations, a universe I wanted to explore forever. Her voice was a melody I could play on loop, and her presence? It was like standing in the golden warmth of the setting sun—overwhelming, comforting, impossible to look away from.

And now, as I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling shakily, I knew—tonight, she would know. She would know just how deeply, how foolishly, how irrevocably Abeer Rajvansh was in love with you, Samiksha.

I wasn’t just following her out of curiosity. I was following her to propose. Yes, in the middle of the night, under the stars, like some filmy hero with a death wish. I had spent the entire night thinking about her, dreaming about her, and quite literally losing my sleep over her. There was no way I could wait any longer. If not now, then never.

But of course, my romantic moment had to start with me looking like a complete creep.

Samiksha was walking ahead, unaware of my presence, and I was trailing behind her like some suspicious stalker straight out of a crime show. The plan was simple—follow her, find the perfect moment, confess. What could possibly go wrong?

Well…

“OYE! Kaun hai tu?!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a loud voice boomed behind me. Turning around, I found an old man squinting at me like I had just been caught robbing a bank. His dhoti fluttered dramatically in the night breeze as he pointed an accusing finger at me. Great. Just great.

“Bata! kaun hai?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Raat ke 3 baje ek akeli ladki ka peecha kar raha hai. Sharam nahi aayi? Ladkiyon ki izzat karna seekh!”

“Arre, Kaka! Aisa kuch nahi hai!” I whisper-yelled, throwing my hands up in defense. “Main uska boyfriend hoon—” I paused. Wait. Shit. No. That’s not right. “Nahi! Dost hoon! Bas dekh raha tha ki kahaan ja rahi hai.”

The old man crossed his arms. “Dost hai? Jhooth mat bol! Maine DDLJ dekhi hai. Pehle dost, phir pyaar, phir London jaane ka ticket!”

I blinked. “Kaka, woh alag film thi! Yeh real life hai!”

“Bakwaas mat kar! Maine tere jaison ko bohot dekha hai! Aaj kal ke ladke Instagram pe ‘Hey’ bhejte hain, phir ‘U up?’ phir ‘Aaj raat chhat pe aana’—ekdam besharam ho tum log!”

Wait! Inko yeh sab kyu pata hai?!

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “Kaka, main sach bol raha hoon! Main sirf—”

Before I could finish, the old man picked up his chappal.

Oh. Oh shit.

“Dekho Kaka, violence is not the answer—”

SPLAT!

His chappal smacked my arm with a force I didn’t know senior citizens were capable of. I yelped and dodged before he could land another hit.

“Kaka, bas!” I whisper-hissed, flailing like a maniac. “Woh dekho udhar!”

"Kya? Dekhu? " He asked.

"W-woh dekho udhar machhli bhaag rahi haii"

That worked. The moment he turned to look, I bolted.

And as I ran—barefoot, adrenaline rushing, with an angry dhoti-clad man shaking his chappal behind me— I had one realization

"Agar Samiksha ke liye chappal bhi khaani pad jaye toh khaa lunga."

Author's pov

The temple stood in all its serene glory, bathed in the soft golden hues of the early morning sun. The bells chimed in a rhythmic harmony, the scent of incense wrapped around her like a warm embrace, and the soft chants of prayers whispered peace into the air. Peace. That’s what she always felt here. A moment of stillness in her otherwise chaotic mind.

She stepped inside, folding her hands in reverence before Radha-Krishna, their divine forms glowing under the temple lights. With closed eyes, she whispered her silent prayer, pouring her heart out—not for herself, but for him.

"His happiness, that’s all I ask for."

As she took the prasad from the priest, he gave her a knowing look, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "And what exactly did you pray for?"

A small smile curved her lips as she answered, “Something like his happiness and nothing else.”

The priest hummed thoughtfully, clearly unconvinced. “You could have asked for him to be yours? "

His raised brow told me he was expecting more—more than just a vague answer, more than just a passing mention. So, I exhaled softly and admitted, "No, Pandit ji, we are not together. And of course, I had a choice—I could have asked God to give him to me. But his happiness is more important, na?"

I lowered my gaze, a small chuckle escaping me. "You know, Pandit ji, when he smiles... my worries fade, my chaos settles. The world could be on fire, and I'd still find solace in that one curve of his lips. He's the calm to my storm, the quiet sigh after a long day. If my life is a symphony of rushing beats and restless echoes, he is that one soft note that lingers—steady, unshaken, eternal."

The priest hummed in understanding, but I didn’t wait for a response. I took my blessings and walked outside, letting the cool night air embrace me.

The temple stood on a slightly raised platform, overlooking a vast, serene lake. The water mirrored the moon above, rippling ever so slightly with the breeze, as if whispering secrets to the night. The pebbles beneath my feet were cool, grounding me, yet the vastness of the lake in front made me feel light—as if I could dissolve into the moment, become one with the peace around me.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, fresh air fill my lungs, washing away everything but the present. It was beautiful. Majestic. Timeless.

And then, he entered the picture.

I didn’t have to turn to know it was him. Some presences don’t need confirmation; they are simply felt. His aura wrapped around me like an invisible force, making the night even more intoxicating.

I opened my eyes slowly, my heart betraying me with its wild beats. Because if there was one thing more breathtaking than this view, it was the boy who just stepped into it.

The peaceful silence of the night shattered the moment I turned around and saw him.

Panting. Eyes shut. Chest rising and falling as if he had just finished running a marathon.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. My fingers tightened around the hem of my kurti as my heart did something utterly ridiculous—it stumbled.

He stood there, drenched in moonlight, looking like he had stepped out of a dream I didn’t even know I had. And that shirt. That soft pink shade, the exact same one Sidharth Malhotra wore in 'Ishq Bulaava'. As if the universe was mocking me, making sure I fell just a little bit harder. The fabric clung to him, slightly wrinkled, probably from his rushed movements, but God, did it suit him. The way it complemented his skin tone, the way the color deepened under the temple’s golden light—it was unfair how breathtaking he looked.

His hair was a tousled mess, as if he had run his fingers through it too many times. A few strands stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat. His long lashes fluttered slightly before he finally opened his eyes, revealing those familiar, dark pools that had always held the power to silence every storm inside me.

I wanted to say something. Anything. But words refused to form because how does one speak when beauty itself is standing in front of them, looking like it belongs to them?



A deep breath. A sharp inhale. And then, silence.

Abeer stood there, shifting on his feet, his hands clenched at his sides as if he was physically holding himself together. God, why was this so difficult? He had rehearsed this moment at least a hundred times in his head, yet standing before her now, every word he had carefully prepared vanished like mist under the morning sun.

He smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck like a schoolboy caught red-handed. "Hey."

Samiksha, who had been studying him just as intently, responded with an equally awkward "Hey."

He nodded, looking away toward the vast lake in front of them. The water shimmered under the silver moonlight, the gentle ripples reflecting the unspoken words between them. It was beautiful, almost poetic—except his heart was pounding so loudly that he could barely hear his own thoughts.

His eyes found her again. The way she tucked that stray strand of hair behind her ear, the way she clutched the fabric of her kurti as if she, too, was trying to steady herself—it sent a fresh wave of nerves crashing over him. Could she already sense it? The storm inside him?

He exhaled slowly. Just say it, Abeer.

"I wanted to say something," he started, his voice firm at first.

Samiksha turned to him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. And just like that, all his resolve crumbled.

"I actually—" He paused. Damn it. He tried again, "Actually, I—"

Her brows lifted slightly, amusement dancing in her gaze now, making him even more nervous. Was she enjoying this? Was this funny to her?

Frustrated with himself, Abeer shut his eyes tight and took a sharp breath, preparing to just blurt it out before his nerves could betray him again.

And then, her hand.

Warm. Gentle. Reassuring.

It landed on his shoulder, grounding him in an instant. His eyes snapped open, meeting hers—the softest shade of brown, filled with patience, kindness, and something he was too afraid to name just yet.

That was all it took.

One touch, one look, and suddenly, the courage he had been searching for found its way back into his veins.

Abeer exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching as he finally gathered the courage to speak. His voice was softer than usual, carrying a weight that settled between them like an unspoken truth.

"I'm a seventeen-year-old teenager," he began, his voice laced with something vulnerable, something real. "People assume I'm a brat, and maybe I let them. It’s easier that way—when they think I don’t care. Because if they think I care, then they'll expect things from me. And I don't want to live up to anyone's expectations."

He paused, inhaling deeply before looking at her again, his gaze unwavering. "But you—” he swallowed, blinking as if struggling to find the right words. "You deserve to know that I'm not spoiled, Samiksha. Because... I want to live up to your expectations."

Her breath hitched.

A part of her knew where this was heading, but hearing it—feeling it—was something else entirely. Her fingers clenched the fabric of her kurti, trying to ground herself, but her heart was already racing, already tumbling into the unknown.

Abeer took a step closer, the pebbles beneath his feet crunching softly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he breathed out a shaky chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

Abeer inhaled deeply, gathering his thoughts, his gaze never wavering from hers. "I don’t know when it happened, Samiksha," he began, voice soft but steady. "Maybe it was when I caught you laughing at something ridiculous, completely unaware that I was watching. Maybe it was the way you always disappear into a book as if the world outside doesn’t exist. Or maybe it was when I started noticing that you were always there—just close enough to touch, but somehow always out of reach."

Samiksha’s breath hitched, her fingers clenching at her sides. She had spent so long keeping her feelings buried, convinced that he was someone she could admire from afar but never have. And now, here he was, standing before her, unraveling his heart piece by piece.

Abeer exhaled sharply, as if frustrated with himself. "You loved me first, didn’t you?" he murmured, almost in disbelief. "You saw something in me that no one else cared to see. And I was too blind, too caught up in everything else, to realize that the best thing that ever happened to me had always been right in front of me."

looked at her. "I tried to fight it, you know?" he continued, his voice lower now, more intimate. "Tried to tell myself that you were just another girl in my life, that you were just a friend of a friend, someone I noticed but never cared to know."

He huffed out a soft chuckle, shaking his head at his own foolishness. "But then you started existing in places where you shouldn't have." He took another step forward, closing the distance between them. "In the silence of my nights, in the lyrics of songs I never paid attention to before, in the wind that carried your perfume when you walked past me."

She swallowed, unable to form words.

His lips curled into a rueful smile. "I always thought I was unreachable, untouchable… that I was too caught up in my own world to let anyone in. But you? You never tried to change me. Never demanded anything. You just—" he let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head, "—loved me, without ever asking for anything in return."

A lump formed in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest.

Abeer took a step closer, and this time, he didn’t stop himself from reaching for her hand. His fingers brushed against hers, hesitant at first, before lacing them together as if they had always belonged there. "I should’ve known sooner," he whispered, "because no matter how much I tried to fight it, my heart always found its way back to you."

Her eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of years of unspoken love pressing between them.

"I love you, Samiksha," he finally said, voice raw, unguarded. "And if loving you is the only right thing I do in this life, then I’ll call myself the luckiest person to ever exist."

Abeer let out a breathy chuckle, his eyes dancing with mischief as he tilted his head slightly. "Tum convince ho gayi, ya main aur bolu?"

But Samiksha? She was frozen. Stunned. Her brain short-circuited, unable to process anything beyond the fact that Abeer—Abeer Rajvansh—had just confessed his love for her. She stared at him, lips parted, heart drumming so loudly she could barely hear anything else.

Her silence must have worried him because he immediately started again, his words spilling out in a rush. "Dekho, main yeh bhi kehna chahta tha ki mujhe tumhari hasi pasand hai—matlab, obviously, sabko pasand hai but mujhe zyada pasand hai, aur tum jab padhti ho tab jo concentrated face banaati ho na, vo mujhe—"

And then, she did the most impulsive, reckless thing she had ever done in her life.

She crashed her lips against his.

It was sudden—so sudden that even she didn’t realize what she was doing until her lips were pressed against his. Abeer stiffened instantly, his entire body tensing as if the world had just tilted off its axis.

Oh my god. Oh my god, what did I just do?

Samiksha’s eyes widened in horror as the realization hit her. What if he didn’t want this? What if she had completely ruined everything? A wave of panic surged through her, and she immediately started to pull away, stammering, "S-sorry! Sorry, I—"

But Abeer wasn’t having any of that.

Before she could retreat even an inch, his hands shot up, cupping both sides of her face, his fingers threading into her hair as he whispered, "Shh."

And then he kissed her back.

It was soft at first—almost hesitant—as if he wanted to memorize the feel of her lips against his before moving any further. They stayed like that for a moment, frozen in time, their breaths mingling, their hearts hammering in sync. Then, slowly, he began to move his lips, testing, exploring.

His lips caught her lower one, a gentle pull, a slow caress, not demanding but coaxing. Samiksha was too lost in her own embarrassment to respond at first, too caught up in the fact that she had kissed him first. But then he pulled back just a little, his forehead resting against hers, and murmured against her lips, "Reciprocate nahi karogi?"

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

That was all he needed.

Abeer kissed her again, this time taking her upper lip, sucking on it with the softest pressure, letting her feel every ounce of emotion he was pouring into it. His arms wound around her waist, pulling her closer as he guided her movements, tilting his head just slightly for a better angle.

She mirrored his actions, her lips moving against his in perfect sync, a push and pull that felt like it had been waiting to happen for years. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic—it was sweet, unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. His hands trailed down to her waist, fingers splaying against the fabric of her kurti as if grounding himself in reality.

And then, in a move so effortlessly intimate, he tapped her waist lightly, signaling her to stand on his feet.

Her heart stuttered, but she complied, lifting herself up slightly, stretching her feet as his arms held her steady.

And in that moment, standing there in front of the temple, wrapped in each other’s embrace, they weren’t just two people in love. They were a story waiting to be told, a prayer answered in the most unexpected way.

A/N: Both of them are on Wattpad. What did you expect?😋😏🌷)

To be continued.......

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