𝐌𝐫. 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐚𝐚𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐞

By the time she reached home, the rain hadn’t slowed but her heart still beat like a hummingbird’s wings.

Her pastel pink and blue saree clung to her like second skin, and her long curls were completely soaked. She tiptoed inside, hoping to escape unseen.

No chance.

Her mother stood in the middle of the hall, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

"Yeh kya haal bana rakha hai apna, Prisha?"

(“What state have you made of yourself, Prisha?”)

Prisha bit her lower lip. “Woh… baarish achanak se---”

“Aur tum usmein naach rahi thi?!”

Her mother glared. “Zarurat thi kya sari mein bheegne ki? Kal bhi office hai, Prisha! Beemar ho gyi to”

Before Prisha could defend herself, her papa walked in from the kitchen, sipping his evening tea.

He took one look at her drenched form and burst into laughter.

"Arrey Sunita, itni pyaari lag rahi hai meri beti! Bilkul heroine wali entry maar ke aayi hai lagta hai."

(“Sunita, my daughter looks so cute! Looks like she made a filmy entry.”)

Her mother rolled her eyes while Prisha squeaked out, “Thank you, Papa,” and dashed to her room before more lectures could follow.

Inside her room, warmth returned.

She peeled off her saree, toes cold against the floor, and slipped into the shower. Hot water streamed over her, but her mind wasn’t ready to let go of that day of shivratri.

That man.

That look.

His calm gaze still flickered in her memory like the temple’s diya.

“Pull yourself together, Prisha,” she muttered, tying her hair up in a bun and slipping into her comfy nightwear.

Just as she settled onto her bed, towel-drying her hair

Her phone rang.

Kavya.

"Hello?"

"Don’t panic," Kavya said with a laugh. "The meeting’s postponed. Aayaan Singh Alawhaat had to reschedule. Rohan called. His pa."

Prisha’s eyes widened at the name but she didn’t say a word.

"Apparently we’ll meet them tomorrow morning instead. Till then," Kavya added, "Mannat and I decided you, Miss Drenched Drama Queen, will work on those final sketches for the couture show."

"Tomorrow morning? And isn't he the same from the temple that day" Prisha squeaked and her voice turned into wishper at end. "So soon?"

"Yup. You better impress the brooding boss," she teased. "Not fall in his arms again!"

Prisha groaned and buried her face in her pillow. “I hate you both.”

"And we love you. Now get drawing."

Prisha ended the call, flipped her iPad open, and stared at the blank sketch canvas.

But before drawing a single line… her fingers paused.

That man’s eyes came back to her.

Grey like a monsoon sky… calm… mysterious…

She know his name. Didn’t know his world.

"Ayaan Singh Alawhaat" she mumbled

But something told her, he was the kind of storm you don’t survive unchanged.

The birds were chirping. The sun was already glowing behind her cream-colored curtains. Her phone buzzed silently on the side table, screen lighting up with the time.

9:12 AM.

"Oh no no no no!"

Prisha jerked awake, hair in a frizzy halo, iPad still pressed to her side and her pencil clutched in one hand.

She blinked at the screen.

The sketch was half-done. Her eyes widened. Today was the couture pitch! The meeting with the investor whoever he was!

She had planned to get up early, revise her sketches, iron her clothes, and go full #GirlBossMode.

Instead?

She was five minutes away from a complete breakdown.

“Kavya is going to kill me,” she mumbled, jumping out of bed, tossing pillows, saree, and her towel in all directions. Her mom peeked in, half-amused.

"Phir se late?"

“Late? I’m super late! Maa, meri black palazzo dikh rahi hai?”

“Wahi jo kal tak tumhara favorite tha?” her mother smirked.

Prisha dashed to the bathroom with her hairbrush in one hand and phone wedged between shoulder and ear, frantically calling Kavya.

at the office...

In the towering glass building of Alawhaat Enterprises, the air was crisp, the mood professional—and the tension dangerously thick.

Aayaan Singh walked through the hallway, suited up in a deep charcoal grey, his watch glinting in the light. His steps were measured, his mind already juggling numbers, deals, and enemies.

"The interns from House of ishq are about to arrive, sir," Rohan informed.

Aayaan gave a sharp nod. “Show them in the main boardroom.”

The name didn’t click.

Not yet.

She finally got dressed in a soft ivory kurti, sleek braid, minimal makeup, and her portfolio clutched in her arms like a lifeline.

“Auto! Auto!!” she shouted, hopping in with Mannat and Kavya who were already halfway through scolding her.

“You are unbelievable.”

“I am an artist, not a clock,” she grinned sheepishly.

“You’ll die if you keep this up,” Kavya muttered, tightening her dupatta.

As Prisha stepped out of the auto, clutching her folder to her chest like it held her breath, the name of the massive glass tower loomed before her in gold-plated glory:

Alawhaat Empire

Even the wind here felt richer.

She rushed in, her white dupatta fluttering behind her as she messaged on their group chat:

“Reaching in 2 mins. Don’t let them start without me!”

Mannat’s reply was instant:

“RUN. Boardroom. Floor 15. CEO not smiling.”

Prisha winced, her juttis tapping furiously on the marble floors as she entered and informed the receptionist. The woman gave her a brief nod and gestured toward the elevator.

The digital display blinked as she ascended:
11... 12... 13... 14... 15.

Her heart wasn’t just racing it was galloping.

The boardroom smelled faintly of polished wood, rain-drenched glass, and expensive coffee.

Aayaan Singh leaned back slightly in his leather chair, dark suit hugging his frame like second skin. His eyes moved from one sketch to another, nodding politely to the two girls who were already seated—Mannat and Kavya.

He was listening. But his mind? Slightly detached.

Not because their ideas lacked merit, but because something someone was whispering through the folds of his memory.

Rain. Bindi. Laughter.
Her.

The girl who didn’t know the ground from the sky while falling.
The one whose eyes stopped his aarti for a breath.

And just then

The door opened.

She entered.

Slightly wet hair. Flushed cheeks. kurti. A soft black bindi between those wide brown eyes.

Aayaan looked up.
And for the first time since morning his fingers paused over the papers.

She froze. Mid-step. Mid-breath.

No. Way.

Her eyes locked onto him.
The same man. From the temple.
The one whose voice still echoed "Sambhal ke chaliye."

And now here he was. Not a man among devotees, but the head of Alawhaat Empire. But why the head is talking to us where is his staff.

She blinked once. Twice. He didn’t look away.

Kavya coughed. “Prisha, come on.”

Prisha somehow pulled herself together, moving to the empty seat beside her friends, her hands trembling just a little as she opened her folder.

He knows. She thought.
He remembers.

Because in his eyes cold, grey, and unreadable there was a flicker.

Not recognition.

But something deeper.
Like curiosity. Or maybe possession.

“I...I’m really sorry for being late, sir,” Prisha muttered as she quickly slid into the seat between Kavya and Mannat.

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was just enough for him to hear.

Aayaan didn’t respond immediately. He simply watched her, for a moment longer than necessary. Then with an unreadable look, he turned to the file on the table.

“I hope all three of you are aware of the expectations that come with this collaboration,” his voice was low, firm laced with a quiet power that made everyone sit straighter.

“Yes, sir,” Mannat said first, calm and confident.
“We’ve worked on the concept for over two months,” Kavya added.
“We’re ready to meet the vision,” Prisha said, a little late but sincere.

He leaned forward, flicking through the design sketches one by one, his fingers brushing lightly over the paper.

Silence fell.

Then he looked up. “Who designed this one?” He pointed to a sketch of a lehenga with delicate peacock feather embroidery and an ombré sunset palette.

Prisha raised her hand slightly. “I did, sir.”

His gaze didn’t shift from her. “Interesting. It’s raw. Unpolished in some areas, but the emotion behind it is clear.”

Prisha bit the inside of her cheek. Was that a compliment or criticism?

“I believe in taking chances,” he added coolly. “And your brand, Ishq, might just be worth investing in.”

Kavya and Mannat let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Congratulations,” Aayaan said, standing. “We’ll move ahead with the funding proposal. Rohan will finalize the rest.”

The three girls stood too, all smiles and bows and “Thank you, sir” but just as he reached the door, Aayaan paused.

He turned slightly, those stormy grey eyes resting once again on her.

“From next time...try to come on time, Miss Mehta.”

His tone wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t even cold.
But it was enough.

Prisha froze in her spot, eyes widening.

Oh no. Again?

He walked out without waiting for her reply.

She sat down the moment he left, exhaling all at once.

“I did it again…” she whispered, resting her forehead on the folder.

Kavya chuckled. “What? Charm the billionaire twice in a row?”

“No! Embarrass myself in front of the same man… again,” she groaned.

Mannat leaned in, smirking. “Well, at this rate, he’ll either fall for you or blacklist us.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Prisha whispered, heat rushing up her face.

They had just closed a huge deal. And yet, here she was more anxious than ever.

As they walked toward the elevator, Prisha groaned dramatically.

"Yaar, mujhe coffee chahiye. Abhi. Warna meri rooh udd jayegi."

Kavya laughed. “Drama queen.”

“I’ll go get it,” Mannat offered. “Prish, go wait in the lobby.”

“Oh damn,” Kavya added, “I think I left my file back in the boardroom.”

“You both go,” Prisha said, already busy sketching something on her iPad. “I’ll wait.”

The elevator pinged, and she stepped in without looking, eyes fixed on her screen. Still annoyed from the meeting, she grumbled under her breath as she shaded the design that he had commented on.

"Unhe kya pata fashion ke baare mein,” she muttered. “Kitne cold hain bhai, jaise Shimla ki barf inse hi inspired ho.
Ye kaanji aankhon wale sab aise hi hote hain... huh."

A quiet scoff sliced through the air.

She froze.

No.

No. No. No.

Please not him.

Slowly, dramatically slowly... she looked up from her screen.

And there he was.

Ayaan Sigh Alawhaat.
The very man her sass had been directed toward.

Standing inside the elevator. Hands in his pockets. Face unreadable. Eyes? Amused. Slightly.

That devil had heard everything.

He said nothing for a moment.

Then, with terrifying calm:

“I take it… kaanji aankhon wale is a fashion critique now?”

Her soul left her body. She wanted to vanish into the elevator wall.

“I–I wasn’t talking about you. Obviously not you.”

One brow arched. “No? You sure?”

She blinked. Blushed. Nodded like a bobblehead. “Yes! I mean no! I mean coffee! I need coffee.”

"Shimla ki barf?"

Prisha’s face turned fifty shades of red. Her jaw dropped, iPad nearly slipped from her hands.

Prisha totally mortified said
"I-I didn’t... I wasn’t talking about you."

Ayaan said
"Hmm. Right. Toh aapka design tablet par ‘Shimla ki barf’ ban gaya hai, Miss...?" Trying to look nonchalant knowing well this girl and her name is messing with his mind.

Prisha trying to recover stuttered
"Prisha. Prisha Mehta."

Ayaan (smirking faintly):
"Noted, Miss Mehta. Next time you’re going to roast your boss, maybe check if he’s already in the elevator first."

She looked away, eyes wide with panic and embarrassment.

Prisha whispering to herself
"Mar gayi main."

The elevator stopped. As the doors opened, Ayaan stepped out first but not before turning back slightly.

Ayaan said
"By the way... design par kaam bura nahi hai. Barf kam pad rahi hai usmein."

And then he walked off.

Prisha just stood there frozen, lips parted in disbelief, heart thudding so loud she could barely breathe.

She came our then and spotted her friends and grabbed the coffee.

Mannat asked
"Tumhe kya ho gaya? Bhoot tha kya elevator mai?"

Prisha still dazed said
"Barf... barf andar aa gayi thi."

🩵🍪✨️

"The hell " kavya gasped and mannat shocked.

" I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings okay!" Prisha said in her defense.

She told everything to her friends what happened in the elevator.

" prish baby got some nerves" mannat said. And then they both laughed.

Prisha annoyed yet blushed and looks away.

" You guys are impossible" she said grabbing her 3rd mug of coffee and walking away from the café.

" accha accha waitttt!" They both screamed.

Hello 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬… 🐳🌸
here is the end of chapter

Thoughts about our oh so cutie characters!? I am personally loving writing kavya.

Why do all hellish mornings begin with loud alaram, flying dupattas, and oh getting stuck in an elevator with him?

Prisha just wanted to survive the Monday blues, but destiny said: “Nope, how about some accidental eye contact, breathless silence, and a six-foot-tall problem in Armani?” 😭(It was me.)

Ahh and that nick name given by her 😭
i am liking both of them idk i love them hehe.

And those so-called friends of hers? Ugh, if teasing was an Olympic sport, they’d win gold.

But can we talk about Ayaan’s little smirk? That "I-know-what-you’re-thinking" look? I mean… sir, calm down. We are just trying to breathe here. 😩💓

Let me know did you laugh, melt, or scream into your pillow?
Comments = virtual hugs. I live off your reactions. 💌

Until the next disaster,
~ With love and panic,

Peanut

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2669]