Whispers Between Overs

Soft Strings

The afternoon sun hung low over Sydney, casting golden light through the sheer curtains of Ellyse’s apartment. The soft hum of the city outside felt distant, wrapped in the bubble of quiet warmth that enclosed them. Dishes from lunch were still stacked in the sink, the faint scent of paneer butter masala lingering in the air, mingling with laughter that had only just faded.

Smriti sat cross-legged on the living room rug, flipping lazily through a cricket magazine. Her hair was tied loosely at the nape of her neck, strands falling out in wisps framing her face, a small streak of flour still ghosting her cheek from their earlier kitchen mischief. Ellyse watched from the couch, stretched out with one arm resting behind her head, her eyes fond and quiet.

“Hey, Pez?” Smriti looked up, her smile tired but content. “You’re staring.”

Ellyse smirked, sitting up. “Yeah. Got a problem?”

“Not really.” Smriti’s grin deepened, before she tucked the magazine aside and crawled over, settling between Ellyse’s knees, resting her chin on her thigh. “You’re a little sappy sometimes, you know that?”

“Only with you.” Ellyse bent forward, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

There was a beat of silence, soft and filled with the unspoken.

Then Ellyse leaned over, pulling her old acoustic guitar from its stand near the window. The wood gleamed warm under the afternoon light, strings humming softly as she tuned it by ear.

Smriti perked up. “I didn’t know you  played.”

“I don’t. Not really. Just… sometimes.” Ellyse strummed a tentative chord, then another. Her voice came quieter. “Helps when my head’s a mess.”

“Is it messy now?”

Ellyse glanced down at her, lips quirking gently. “Not with you here.”

Smriti flushed, then settled more comfortably, curling up sideways across the couch, her head resting in Ellyse’s lap, looking up at her with sleepy affection.

“Play for me?” Smriti asked softly.

Ellyse gave a small, crooked smile. “Anything for you, Smriti.”

She began to strum, fingers finding familiar patterns even after months away from the strings. It wasn’t perfect—chords buzzed a little, her rhythm tentative—but it was hers, raw and earnest. The melody floated between them, simple and low, weaving into the quiet room like a whispered secret.

Smriti closed her eyes, lips curved in contentment. “What’s that one?”

“Something I wrote a long time ago.” Ellyse’s voice was almost shy. “Never really finished it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Ellyse’s hands paused on the strings. “Yeah?”

Smriti opened her eyes, tilting her head to look up at her. “Yeah.”

Ellyse’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, eyes softening. “You’re biased.”

“Completely.” Smriti’s grin was lazy, her hand reaching up to gently trace the underside of Ellyse’s jaw, fingers featherlight. “But it’s still beautiful.”

Ellyse bent down, brushing their noses together in a brief Eskimo kiss before playing again. The song shifted, notes a little braver now, a little surer, as though Smriti’s praise had steadied her hands. Smriti’s fingers twined in the hem of Ellyse’s shirt, holding loosely, her thumb stroking absent-minded patterns against her side.

Outside, the light slowly deepened, turning amber and soft. The shadows lengthened across the floor, stretching toward them, wrapping them closer.

When Ellyse finished, the last note lingering in the air, Smriti exhaled a dreamy sigh.

“I could fall asleep right here,” Smriti murmured.

“Wouldn’t mind if you did.” Ellyse set the guitar aside gently, freeing her hands to stroke through Smriti’s hair, combing out the knots, letting her nails skim lightly over her scalp.

Smriti hummed under her touch, eyes fluttering shut again.

“You make everything so quiet,” Ellyse said softly, her words half to herself.

Smriti opened one eye. “That’s a compliment, right?”

“The best kind.”

A warm laugh spilled from Smriti’s lips as she sat up, still half-tangled in Ellyse’s lap. She pressed her forehead to Ellyse’s, their noses brushing, breath mingling.

“I like you like this,” Smriti whispered. “Soft.”

Ellyse chuckled, wrapping her arms loosely around her waist. “Don’t tell the team.”

“Your secret’s safe.” Smriti leaned in and kissed her softly, a lingering press of lips, gentle and slow. “You’ve had a long day, Pez.”

“Mm. But a good one.” Ellyse pulled her closer until Smriti was straddling her lap, arms looped around her neck. “Best one in a while.”

They sat like that for a while, foreheads pressed together, quiet breathing shared between them, the guitar resting forgotten by the window.

Eventually, Smriti sighed. “We should probably clean up the kitchen.”

“Tomorrow.” Ellyse kissed her temple. “Stay.”

Smriti smiled against her skin. “Okay.”

And so they stayed, until the room dimmed into dusk, until the city outside quieted into evening. They stayed, folded into each other’s warmth, chasing no words, needing no plans, letting the moment stretch long and safe between them.

Later, they’d laugh again. Later, they’d tease, they’d tumble over each other on the couch, they’d argue over what movie to watch. But for now—now was theirs, still and sure.

And when Ellyse picked up the guitar again, playing softer this time, Smriti nestled close, head tucked beneath her chin, both of them smiling into the melody that belonged only to them.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Smriti whispered.

Ellyse kissed the top of her head. “Me too.”

And the music carried them quietly into the night.

Thank you for reading!
Will make up for the small chapter soon.