Srija's Perspective
The morning sunlight filtered through the window, and as I stirred awake, the events of last night came rushing back. The tension, the conversation, the kiss-everything was still so vivid. My cheeks warmed at the memory, and I felt a mix of emotions: nervousness, excitement, and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability.
What now? How were we supposed to go back to being ourselves after crossing a line we had tiptoed around for so long?
As I sat at the small dining table, nursing my coffee, I heard Vivek's footsteps behind me. His presence was steady, grounding. When he walked into the room, his hair slightly disheveled and a soft smile on his face, my heart skipped a beat.
"Morning," he said, his voice warm and calm, as if last night hadn't completely shifted the dynamics between us.
"Morning," I replied, trying to sound casual but failing miserably as my voice wavered.
For a moment, we stood in the unspoken tension. I could feel his gaze on me, studying me, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable. It was as if he was waiting for me to say something, to lead the conversation.
"I've been thinking," I started, gripping the mug tightly, "about last night."
His eyebrows arched slightly, and he set his cup down. "And?"
I hesitated, unsure of how to put my thoughts into words. "I'm not sure where this leaves us. I don't want to lose what we have, Vivek. But I also... I can't deny what happened, what I felt."
His expression softened, and he leaned against the counter. "Srija, I don't have all the answers either. But I can tell you this-I care about you. And whatever this is, I'm not walking away from it. From you."
His words were like a balm to my overthinking mind. I wanted to believe him, to trust him, but the doubts lingered. What if this was too good to be true? What if I let myself fall, only to be left shattered?
"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to get hurt."
He crossed the room in a few strides, kneeling in front of me. "I know you are. And I can't promise that this will be easy. But what I can promise is that I'm not going anywhere. We'll take it slow, okay? One step at a time. No rush, no pressure."
His honesty, his patience, made my chest tighten. For the first time in a long while, I felt seen, truly seen.
---
Vivek's Perspective
Srija was trying to be brave, but I could see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty. She was letting me in, but cautiously, as if she was testing the waters, unsure of whether it was safe to dive.
I didn't blame her. Life hadn't been kind to her. She had built walls to protect herself, and now, brick by brick, she was trying to let me see the parts of her she had kept hidden for so long.
"Slow is good," I said, reaching for her hand. "We don't have to label this or figure it all out right now. Let's just focus on what we feel, what we want."
She looked at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You make it sound so simple."
"It can be," I said softly. "If we let it."
I didn't tell her how much last night had affected me, how I had replayed every second of it in my mind. The way her body had trembled against mine, the way she had let herself be vulnerable for just a moment-it was intoxicating. And terrifying.
Because for the first time in years, I felt like I had found someone who truly mattered.
---
The day passed in a blur of patient rounds and meetings. Despite the chaos of the hospital, my mind kept drifting back to her. I found myself glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until we'd both be back at the apartment.
When I finally walked through the door, I found her on the balcony, a soft breeze tugging at her hair. She was sipping tea, her gaze lost in the twinkling lights of the Mumbai skyline.
"Hey," I said, stepping beside her.
"Hey," she replied, glancing up at me with a small smile.
For a while, we stood there in comfortable silence, the city humming around us.
"You know," I said, breaking the quiet, "I never thought I'd meet someone who could challenge the way I see the world. But you... you've done that."
She looked at me, her brows furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"
"You've shown me that strength doesn't always mean being loud or assertive. Sometimes, it's in the quiet resilience, in the way you keep going despite everything."
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, but I could see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
"And you," she said softly, "you've shown me that maybe it's okay to let someone in. To trust."
My chest tightened at her words, and without thinking, I reached for her hand. She didn't pull away. Instead, she laced her fingers with mine, her touch hesitant but steady.
In that moment, standing on the balcony under the Mumbai sky, I knew one thing for certain-this was just the beginning. And I wasn't going to let anything, or anyone, take it away from us.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
"The first of many"
RomanceA light headed story . The story where boy saw " the extraordinary in the ordinary" The story of an all time nervous and self doubting doctor and an absolute overachiever doctor for his age.
