Nervous mind racing hearts

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟' 𝑝𝑜𝑣

The morning sun filtered through Prisha's window, warm and golden, much like the coffee brewing in her kitchen. She tucked a few stray curls behind her ear as she buttoned up her ivory cotton shirt, pairing it with wide-legged beige trousers. It was a new day, and she was determined not to be late again.

As she reached Ishq Couture, her eyes immediately searched for Kavya and Mannat. The familiar scent of fabric and fresh paper sketches wafted in the air as she entered their workspace.

Inside, their manager, Mrs. Bhavika Rajput, stood with her signature clipboard and cat-eye glasses, her expression unreadable.

"Girls," she said, turning toward them, "I have news."

The three of them instinctively straightened up.

"Everyone else in the design team will continue operations from this head office," she began, then looked directly at the trio. "But as per the newly signed collaboration with Alawhaat Empire, the three of you will now work directly under their guidance-at their headquarters."

"Wait... wh-what?" Prisha blinked.

"You mean that Alawhaat Empire?" Mannat whispered.

"The fairytale is just starting prish?" Kavya added, nudging Prisha with a wicked grin.

Prisha glared.

Bhavika nodded. "Yes. And let me be very clear-this is a golden opportunity. It's a six-month collaboration for their upcoming luxury fashion project. Your exposure, design input, and work will all be under their review. And yes-your salary has been raised accordingly."

The girls stared at one another, stunned.

Prisha's heart skipped. Him again. Again, she'd have to face Mr. Serious-Mr. "Shimla ki barf"-Mr. Kanji Aankhon Wale.

Her chaos. His calm.

She was about to say something when Bhavika added, "You'll start from tomorrow. Be on time and dress professionally. This isn't your playground. It's Alawhaat."

"Yes ma'am," they chorused like schoolgirls.

As they stepped out into the hallway, Kavya twirled. "Oh ho, this is a movie plot, I swear. Corporate fairytale meets mafia ice man!"

Prisha rolled her eyes, "Please! It's just work. Just work..."

Mannat leaned close and teased, "Yeah, just like that aarti was just a coincidence, right?"

And even though Prisha pouted and playfully hit them both, her heart fluttered.

Because deep down, a tiny part of her wondered-
"Is this work... or fate?"

Back at the long design table, rolls of silk, organza, and lace fabric were spread out in an almost sacred chaos. The gentle hum of the air conditioning mixed with soft instrumental music playing in the background. The sun had shifted to late noon, and the golden light filtered into the room, casting a warm glow on everything - especially on Prisha's face, which had turned a soft pink out of embarrassment.

Mannat held up a fabric sample. "So, I'm thinking ivory silk for the base and lavender embroidery to give it a regal touch."

"Hmm," Kavya nodded. "And gold-thread motifs along the neckline. A bit of shimmer - subtle yet luxe."

They both turned to Prisha, who sat with her elbow on the table, chin in palm, blankly staring at a swatch of blush organza.

Mannat raised a brow. "Earth to Miss Mehta?"

Prisha blinked. "Huh? Oh... yeah. That works."

Kavya giggled. "You didn't even hear what we said."

"Of course I did! Ivory base, lavender, shimmer something," she rattled off, rubbing her temple.

Mannat smirked. "You're distracted."

"I am not."

"Oh really?" Kavya leaned forward. "You were all 'kanji aankhon wale' and 'Shimla ki barf' yesterday and now you're spacing out like a daydreaming poet."

Prisha groaned, "Please don't start again."
" like seriously you called him these names prish " kavya said holding her laughter.

"One time - he catches you during a flower fall," Mannat began.

"Second time - elevator monologue where you called him cold and mocked his eyes," Kavya continued, fighting laughter.

"Third time?" Mannat wiggled her brows. "You're now working with his company. That's a pattern, babe."

Prisha blushed furiously. "It's not a pattern. It's just... unfortunate luck."

"Or divine romance," Kavya teased.

"Oh my god, both of you-" Prisha grabbed a fabric swatch and threw it playfully at them. "Stop making it sound like I'm in some movie!"

Mannat giggled. "We are in the first act, Prisha. Let it flow."

Despite herself, Prisha smiled. Then laughed. That nervous tension in her chest easing - even if just a little.

Because her friends knew just how to untangle the threads of anxiety with the stitch of humor.

Even if deep down, she couldn't deny that something had shifted.

That her path - for better or worse - was slowly beginning to intertwine with Mr. Kanji Aankhon Wale.

🩵🍪✨️
The night had settled over the city with a velvet hush. Moonlight streamed through the windows of Prisha's apartment, casting soft shadows on the walls.

Inside, however, chaos reigned.

Bollywood music blared from the Bluetooth speaker. Saree pieces, laces, and sketches were scattered across the coffee table. The aroma of popcorn mingled with the faint scent of rose body mist, and laughter echoed off the walls like old friends coming home.

Prisha, wrapped in a comfy oversized tee and cotton pyjamas, groaned as she tried to match thread samples under dim lighting. "Why does lavender look like lilac under yellow light?"

"Because it's possessed," Mannat said, her voice deadpan.

Kavya danced past in a kurti, hair tied in a messy bun, holding a bowl of Maggi like a trophy. "Forget threads! Let's finish this sketch first or Mr. Kanji Aankhon Wale will cancel our contract before it starts."

Prisha stopped mid-thread pull. "Please don't call him that in the office."

Mannat turned up the volume and broke into a quick shimmy. "Oooh, listen to her! She's scared Mr. Mafia might overhear her nicknames and blacklist us!"

"Or worse," Kavya said dramatically. "He might fall in love."

"Oh God," Prisha facepalmed, cheeks already warm. "You two are evil."

But her laughter bubbled out anyway.

They'd managed to sneak in a good hour of focused sketching before this madness began. The final design lay ready on the table - an elegant ivory gown with sheer lavender drapes and intricate hand-embroidered gold patterns.

Kavya ran her hand over it proudly. "We nailed it. If this doesn't impress them tomorrow, nothing will."

Mannat tossed a cushion at her. "Focus on the real issue: tomorrow, we enter Alawhaat Empire - a fortress of rich businessmen and scary schedules."

"Scary ice cubes with grey eyes," Kavya added.

Prisha threw her popcorn at them both. "Shut up!"

"Can we please play 'Desi Girl' and dance?" Mannat changed the subject, already queuing the song.

"Only if you promise to stop teasing me about him," Prisha pouted.

"No promises!" both her friends chorused.

The three girls broke into a quick, chaotic dance - offbeat, full of laughter, hair flying, dupattas slipping. For those few minutes, everything else melted away.

Deadlines.

Nerves.

Mr. Kanji Eyes.

Just three girls, music, dreams stitched with thread and laughter - and the quiet hum of fate slowly threading its needle.

Just as the chorus of "Desi Girl" echoed through the room for the third time and Mannat attempted a filmy spin - nearly knocking over the sketch stand - the door creaked open.

"Bas karo ab!" came a voice, calm yet commanding.

The music paused. Three heads snapped toward the doorway like guilty schoolgirls.

Prisha's mother stood there with her arms crossed, wearing her soft night saree and a no-nonsense expression. "Kal office jaana hai na? Ya presentation bhi nach ke dena hai?"

Kavya grinned. "Aunty we were just-"

"Design pe kaam kar rahe the," Mannat added helpfully.

Prisha hid her laughter behind her palm.

Her mother raised a brow. "Design karte hue popcorn, Maggi, dance sab hota hai? Wah. Yeh nayi fashion designing hai kya?"

"Creative energy hoti hai, Maa," Prisha mumbled.

Her mom walked in, eyeing the half-eaten bowl of Maggi and the open sketchbook. Then her gaze softened, and she ran a gentle hand over Prisha's hair. "Kaam bhi important hai beta, par kal tum logon ka pehla din hai Alawhaat Empire mein. Achi impression zaroori hai. Ab so jao."

"Yes, Aunty," the girls chorused in unison.

As her mom left the room, she added, "And kal subah jaldi utha dena Prisha ko. Varna woh fir se late hogi."

Prisha groaned and flopped onto the couch. "Why is my life like this?"

"Because your hero keeps showing up when you're at your clumsiest," Mannat teased.

"And because your Maa loves you too much," Kavya winked.

The girls finally settled into their places - giggling whispers still slipping through the darkness as sleep slowly pulled them under. Their dreams, however, danced somewhere between fabric threads and the sharp gaze of Mr. Alawhaat.

🩵🍪✨️

Later, as stars blinked above the city, Ayaan sat on his balcony, legs stretched out, coffee mug warm in his palm, shirt sleeves rolled up.

The city below whispered like a tired lover.

Rohan had just given him the report. "The girls from Ishq Couture showed potential. We should hold them here for the next leg of collaboration. It'll be easier to align."

He had nodded, quietly sipping.

But his mind was elsewhere.

That pink and blue saree. Rain dripping from her lashes. Her laughter. The way she twirled.

She was too soft for his world. Too bright for his shadows. And yet, here she was - threading herself through his routine like an unfinished verse.

He tapped his phone.

"Rohan, call Ishq Couture first thing tomorrow. Ask their manager to shift the girls here for the project's entire working period."

"All three, sir?"

"Obviously."

And as he leaned back in his chair, his thoughts returned to her - the clumsy chaos in a yellow kurti, dancing barefoot in rain.

She didn't know it yet, but she had just stepped into his orbit.

And Ayaan Sigh Alawhaat wasn't the kind to let go once someone entered.

The boardroom had been unusually bright that day - perhaps it was the pastel saree that disrupted his vision.

The meeting with Ishq Couture had gone smoothly, on paper at least. Kavya and Mannat had presented their ideas with clarity. But his eyes? They kept pulling toward the third - the clumsy one. Prisha Mehta.

The girl who couldn't walk straight without creating poetic chaos.

Her hands trembled as she placed her designs down, her voice a soft stammer when asked about fabric durability. But her sketches? Stunning. He couldn't ignore the emotion in her brushwork, the rhythm in her folds.

And then she was late.

Again.

He hadn't meant to say it - but as he turned to leave, the words slipped out anyway.

"Next time, try to come early."

She had blinked, lips parted slightly - flustered yet again. And for some reason... it didn't irritate him the way it should have. It amused him. Interested him.

He dismissed the thought until the elevator.

That's when her mumbling floated through the air like incense smoke.

"Cold as Shimla ki barf..." "Kanji aankhon wale sab aise hi hote hain..."

She was talking about him. Without realizing he was there.

He leaned back against the elevator wall, arms crossed, suppressing a smirk. Her eyes met his when the realization hit.

And she froze.

The silence between them was deliciously awkward. The air, heavier than his black coffee.

By the time the doors opened, she had forgotten how to breathe.

He didn't say a word. Just a fleeting glance as he walked past her - letting her drown in the embarrassment.

The balcony doors slid open with a soft creak.

Ayaan didn't have to look up - he recognized the faint tap of her walking stick and the warm scent of sandalwood she always wore.

"Dadi..." he murmured with a soft smile as she stepped onto the balcony, draped in her ivory wool shawl. Her silver hair was tied into a loose bun, her eyes sharp despite the years, filled with affection and wisdom.

She smiled back. "Abhi tak jaag rahe ho?"

He rose immediately, set his coffee mug aside, and helped her settle into the lounge chair beside him.

"Thodi thakan lag rahi thi, pairon mein dard hai," she said, rubbing her calf gently.

Without another word, Ayaan bent down and began massaging her legs with firm, practiced hands - the only person she ever allowed to do this.

"Tum ho toh sukoon milta hai, Ayaan," she whispered, a proud smile touching her lips.

He gave a half-smile, eyes focused on her ankle. "Aur aap ho toh ghar lagta hai."

They sat in silence for a while, the stars above them and the distant hum of the city grounding them.

Hello my Fireflies🍪✨️

What about this chapter ?
Thought about Ayaan and prish?

I am loving her 😭
She is so me always a disaster.

Anyways this is the starting of upcoming Strom and chaos. Any part of the chapter that made you laugh blush or giggle?

Let me know I love reading your thoughts about my stories.

I am so so so excited for them. As this is my first time writing something like this I am super nervous but excited too.

Loved the chapter then drop a star and vote the chapter.

Till then bye bye
Love Peanut 🦚🌷