He Stayed Anyway

~15~

VOTE KARDOOOOOOO⭐- 10 c'mon

Sunlight slipped in through the half-open curtains, spilling a pale gold across Veer's room. He stepped out of the shower, towel slung carelessly around his neck, hair still damp, water clinging to his lashes. He pulled on a plain t-shirt first, soft and familiar, the kind you wear when you're not ready to face decisions yet.

He stood in front of the mirror, breathing steady, pretending this was just another morning. Just another day.

Veer checked his reflection once... then again.
Not to look good. To look normal.

"Relax," he muttered, running a hand through his wet hair, as if calm was something you could simply fix into place.

On the bed lay two shirts—one crisp white, one a soft blue. He stared at them like they were the toughest decision of his life. Eventually he picked the blue one; it felt less formal, warmer... something that matched the way he felt around her.

He adjusted his collar, grabbed his watch, and fastened it slowly, hoping it hid how nervous he actually was.
Because calling it a "plan" sounded normal.
Calling it a date made his stomach twist.

He glanced at his phone.
No messages.
He smiled anyway. Reeva wasn't the type to text first in the morning—he knew that now.

Still... he hoped.

He sprayed a little perfume—then paused and put the bottle down before he overdid it. He stepped back from the mirror, took a breath, and for a moment, the nervousness softened. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He was actually looking forward to this.

He picked up his keys, pushed his hair back one last time, and whispered,
"Please don't let me say anything stupid today."

And with that, Veer walked out of his room—calm on the outside, chaos on the inside—ready to meet the girl who had somehow made a simple Saturday morning feel different.

The sun was gentle, still climbing, when Veer parked at the entrance of the small art-and-craft lane. It wasn't crowded yet—just a handful of shopkeepers opening their stalls, rolling up shutters, dusting off wooden shelves filled with handmade candles, clay cups, and little painted frames.

He stepped out, locked his car, and slid his hands into his pockets for a moment, taking a slow breath.
This place felt right.
Not loud. Not overly romantic.
Just... warm.

Colourful fabric buntings hung overhead, swaying lightly in the breeze. Someone was arranging tiny terracotta bells, each one giving a soft ting-ting as they touched. Another stall owner lit a stick of incense, letting its gentle smoke float across the street.

Veer walked a little inside, his eyes trying to take everything in—but mostly, he kept glancing at his phone.

He checked the time.
Ten minutes early.
Typical him.

He stood near a small stall that sold hand-painted bookmarks and keychains, pretending to look at them while he mentally prepared himself.

Don't overthink. Don't be awkward. Just talk normally, he tried reminding himself.

A couple walked past, laughing softly, and Veer cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how weirdly nervous he was. He leaned against the car, but his eyes drifted toward the line of small shops nearby instead of the lane.

Reeva ke liye... kya loon?

His thoughts began their usual overthinking dance. Jhumkas? He pictured her tilting her head slightly, that quiet smile, silver catching the light near her face. Nice... but too typical. Bangles? He imagined the soft chime on her wrists when she moved, subtle, almost musical. For a second, it felt right. Then he dismissed it. Too expected. Too filmy.