As Ashwin left the library, his eyes immediately found her. Just a glimpse of her was enough to bring a smile to his face. His heart quickened as he made his way toward her, his footsteps initially brisk with excitement. Yet, the closer he got, the more his pace slowed, as if the mere sight of her compelled him to savor every moment. He finally came to a halt, completely mesmerized, and the word "goddess" escaped his lips in a whisper.
There she was, sitting on a bench in the college park, completely absorbed in her book. She wore a long, flowing yellow dress, (the very one from the cover page )
No matter the color, every shade seemed to flatter her complexion, making her stand out even when she wore the most muted tones. Today, she looked nothing short of divine, as always. Her obsession with leaving her hair open was something Ashwin found utterly endearing. Those jet-black strands cascaded down to her hips, framing her face in a way that was both dreamy and mesmerizing. The wind played gently with her hair, as if it too was captivated by her beauty and didn't dare disturb her peace. Her movements were so delicate, so graceful, that even the air seemed to touch her with the utmost care, unwilling to cause her the slightest discomfort. She smiled as she read, and that smile-oh, that smile-was the softest, most beautiful thing he had ever seen. When she smiled, her beauty multiplied tenfold, lighting up everything around her.
To Ashwin, she was everything-his friend, his love, his very reason for being alive and happy. And now, she was sitting right in front of him, lost in her book. "How can someone be so effortlessly beautiful?" he wondered aloud, his voice filled with awe. She wore no makeup, but she didn't need it; her beauty was as natural as it was breathtaking, radiating from within and shining through in every possible way.
Ashwin couldn't help but wonder, "What could she be reading that makes her smile like that?" The thought consumed him as he stood there, utterly enchanted by the woman who meant more to him than life itself.
...
Meanwhile, Harman was engrossed in her book, though her mind occasionally drifted back to the events of the previous day. The memory brought a smile to her face .
Flashback
Amit's face twisted with anger as he confronted the mehndi artist. She had made the unforgivable mistake of writing the wrong initial on Harman's hand. The woman stubbornly insisted that she had heard Harman say to write "R," but when had Harman ever said that? Why would she? Amit's possessiveness flared, and his frustration boiled over.
"Amit, calm down, it was just a mistake," Harman said gently, pulling him away from the group of women who were only fanning the flames of his anger with their incessant chatter.
"Mistake, Harman? How could she make such a mistake? You're mine, only my name should be on your hand," Amit retorted, his voice thick with emotion.
"I know, my possessive boy. Relax now," Harman soothed, trying to ease his tension.
"How can I?" he replied, grabbing her hand gently but firmly. "Look at what she's done. We can't even erase it," Amit said, his voice tinged with sadness as he stared at the wrong initial on her hand, the thought of not being able to fix it weighing heavily on him.
"Don't worry, let's just wash it off," Harman suggested, her voice calm and reassuring.
"No, Harman, why would you do that?" Amit protested, carefully holding her wrist, mindful not to ruin the mehndi design.
"Because my possessive boy doesn't like it," Harman replied with a smile, her words laced with affection.
"I don't like it, it's true," Amit admitted, "but I love you more than I dislike this mistake. I know how much you love mehndi." His voice softened, his love for her evident in every word. "How could I ask you to remove it?"
"Then what should we do?" Harman asked, concern creeping into her voice.
"Leave it. What else can we do?" Amit replied, his tone resigned but still conflicted.
"Really?" Harman asked, surprised by his sudden shift.
Amit fell silent, avoiding her gaze. Harman's heart ached at the sight of his distress. She gently cupped his face with her mehndi-free hand, intending to say something, but her words caught in her throat as she noticed the tears glistening in his eyes. "Are you crying?" she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and tenderness.
"What are you saying? Me, crying? Why would I do that?" Amit said, trying to mask his tears, his pride wounded by the display of vulnerability.
"But your eyes say otherwise," Harman teased, her tone light, trying to coax him out of his sadness.
He looked at her with a serious expression, his emotions barely contained.
"Okay, okay, you're not crying. I believe you," she said, her voice filled with affection.
"I'm really not," Amit insisted, still trying to maintain his composure.
"I believe you, baba," Harman replied, smiling softly.
But Amit's distress lingered, his thoughts returning to the wrong initial on her hand and the hurtful words of the women around them. Harman noticed his discomfort and decided to take action.
"Wait a second," Harman said, starting to move away.
"Where are you going?" Amit asked, concern lacing his voice.
"Just wait here, I'll be back in a moment," Harman replied, still walking away.
"I'll come with you," Amit offered, not wanting to be apart from her.
"No, stay here. I'm coming right back," Harman reassured him before hurrying off.
She approached the mehndi lady once more, determination in her stride.
"Excuse me, can I borrow the mehndi?" Harman asked politely.
"Sure, dear," the lady replied, handing her the cone.
"Thank you," Harman said, her voice firm as she prepared to correct the mistake.
"What are you going to do?" the lady asked, curious.
"What else? I'm going to change the name," Harman responded confidently.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry, but won't that ruin the design?" the lady asked, concerned.
"Don't worry, I'll be careful," Harman replied, her focus unwavering.
Just as she was about to start, an astrologer lady nearby spoke up, "Why are you changing it? It's the right initial."
Harman closed her eyes in frustration, taking a deep breath before responding, "Aunty, bus kardi." (Stop it now, aunt.)
"Why, dear? It's the truth," the astrologer insisted.
"And I'm going to change this truth," Harman said firmly, gesturing for the mehndi cone.
"You can't do it," the astrologer warned.
"All set! See? I did it," Harman declared proudly, showing her hand where she had skillfully turned the capital 'R' into an 'A.'
"Just wait until the color deepens. I'll show you how much he loves me," Harman said confidently, already sure of the answer.
"Sure, the color will come, but not from this guy's name. It will be from the one who truly loves you," the astrologer remarked.
"Don't ever say that. There's only one boy who loves me, and I love him too. So, please, stop with your things. I'm really trying not to be rude, so please don't cross the line," Harman said firmly before walking back to Amit.
As she got closer, she held out her hand, "Amit, I've corrected it. Look, isn't it completely different now?" she said, hoping to ease his worries.
Amit, however, was still avoiding her gaze, his sadness evident.
"Amit," Harman called gently, trying to catch his attention, but he remained silent, his thoughts clouded by the astrologer's words.
"How could she say we won't get married?" Amit murmured, his voice filled with despair. "I will di-" he started to say, but Harman quickly interrupted him.
"Never say that again," Harman said, her voice firm, her heart aching at the thought of losing him.
"I'm serious, Harman. If you don't marry me, I'll either kill the one who takes you away or kill myself," Amit said, his voice trembling with emotion.
"No one will take me away. Now, stop letting your mind run wild like this. You look dangerous," Harman said, trying to lighten the mood, though her own heart was heavy.
Amit just lowered his head, his eyes still brimming with tears.
"Aww, you look so cute when you cry. That's another thing, though-you're not saying anything cute while crying," Harman said, trying to cheer him up.
"I'm not crying," Amit insisted, shaking away his tears. "Boys don't cry."
"Aww, but mine does," Harman replied softly. He looked at her with his tear-filled eyes, the love and pain in them almost too much to bear.
"Mine does, and I love him even more for it, because he's real and doesn't fake anything," Harman said, gently wiping away his tears.
"Then... can I cry more?" Amit asked, his voice small, his vulnerability laid bare.
"Cry all you want," Harman said, pulling him into a tight embrace.
"I swear, Harman, I meant what I said," Amit whispered into her hair, his tears soaking into her shoulder.
End of Flashback
Harman smiled to herself, thinking about Amit. "Gosh, I can't believe he's 25 years old. He acts like such a kid," she mused, her heart swelling with love for the man who was both her rock and her most tender-hearted boy.
Ashwin watched Harman from a distance, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and longing. "I could even die just to see her happy like this always," he murmured to himself, his voice soft, as if saying it too loudly would make the feeling too real, too painful.
"Are you going to write that down?" a voice suddenly asked, jolting Ashwin from his thoughts.
Startled, he turned to see Preet standing beside him. "Preet, you scared me," he said, his heart still racing from the surprise.
"Oops, sorry," Preet apologized, though her eyes were filled with concern. "So, what are you doing?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
"What else? Admiring her," Ashwin replied with a soft smile, his gaze drifting back to Harman, who was lost in her own world.
Preet sighed in mild exasperation. "Yeah, what else? That's all you ever do," she said, her tone tinged with disappointment.
Ashwin frowned slightly, sensing her disapproval. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Why aren't you proposing to her?" Preet blurted out, her words catching him off guard.
"Wh-" Ashwin started to reply, but Preet didn't give him a chance.
"Are you afraid she'll reject you?" she pressed, her voice gentle but insistent.
Ashwin shook his head. "She won't," he said with quiet confidence.
Preet raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by his certainty. "Wow, that's some confidence. If you're so sure, then why not just try?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"I will, but not yet. I don't want to rush anything with her," Ashwin replied, his voice firm but filled with a quiet resolve. His love for Harman was too precious to him, and he wanted to take things slow, savor every moment, and let things unfold naturally.
Preet watched him closely, her heart heavy with worry. She knew Ashwin was deeply in love with Harman, but she feared his heart was on the line in a way he wasn't prepared for.
"What?" Ashwin asked, noticing her silence and the concerned look on her face.
"You seem like you have something to say," he prompted gently, wanting to understand what was going through her mind.
Before Preet could respond, Harman noticed them and called out, "Hey, guys!" Her voice broke the tension, and both Preet and Ashwin turned their attention to her.
Harman placed her book on the bench and walked over to them. Preet quickly hugged her, trying to push her worries aside for the moment. "I missed you a lot," Harman said with a warm smile.
"Chal jhoti," Preet teased, though she couldn't help but smile back. "It's been more than a week. Where were you?" she asked, her tone playful but with a hint of curiosity.
Harman opened her mouth to explain, but before she could, Ashwin chimed in, "Yeah, Harman, I even tried to call you, but you didn't pick up."
"I'm sorry," Harman replied, a hint of regret in her voice. "I went to a place with very low network coverage. I couldn't even connect with my family. Sorry," she repeated, her eyes soft with apology.
Ashwin's eyes softened as well as he looked at her. "I missed you a lot. I thought about you a lot," he admitted, his gaze locked with hers.
Harman smiled, a bit playfully, as she asked, "And what made you think about me so much?"
Ashwin's reply was tender, almost poetic: "Wajah nahi chahiye mujhe tumhe sochne ki, tum toh woh khaayal ho jo mujhme se kabhi jaata hi nahi."
(I don't need a reason to think about you; you're that thought that never leaves me.)
His words left Harman momentarily speechless, the sincerity in his voice touching her deeply. She had always known Ashwin as a good friend, but his words were beautiful, almost too beautiful. Before she could respond, Ashwin's phone rang, breaking the moment.
"Wait a second," he said, stepping away to take the call.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Harman turned to Preet, her expression still lingering on Ashwin's words. "He's cute. His girlfriend will like him a lot for sure," she said, clearly impressed by his charm.
Preet, however, didn't share Harman's light-heartedness. Her tone turned serious as she spoke. "Harman, you need to tell him you're engaged," Preet said, her concern for Ashwin evident in her voice.
Harman looked puzzled. "What are you talking about? He already knows," she said, brushing off Preet's worry.
"He doesn't, Harman," Preet insisted, her voice firm.
"The whole college knows, Preet. How could my best friend not?" Harman replied, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"If he knew, he wouldn't be talking to you like this. He likes you, Harman," Preet said, her words filled with a mix of worry and frustration.
Harman shook her head, dismissing the idea. "You're overthinking this. There's nothing like that. I know he likes me, but only as a friend, and I like him the same way," she said, confident in her belief.
"No, Harman, he-" Preet started to protest, but Harman cut her off.
"Forget it. Let's just go. We'll be late for class," Harman said, gathering her things and ending the conversation. She walked away, unaware of the storm brewing in Ashwin's heart, and the deep concern in Preet's.
As Preet watched Harman walk ahead, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread. Only if Harman had listened to her, maybe things would turn out differently. With a heavy heart, Preet followed her, worried about the future and what it might hold for Ashwin, who was so deeply in love with someone who couldn't see the truth in his eyes.
.....
He was on the phone, striding purposefully across the campus, frustration evident in his voice. "I told you, Rajiv, it's not going to work this way," he said, his tone sharp and filled with impatience. His friend's response only seemed to fuel his anger further.
"Rajiv, I-" he started, but before he could finish, he collided with someone. Instinctively, he reached out to steady the girl, preventing her from falling.
The moment his eyes met hers, time seemed to stand still. His anger evaporated in an instant, replaced by something far more powerful. His hands, which had been holding her to keep her from falling, now tightened their grip, pulling her closer with a silent promise that he would never let her go.
His heart raced as he looked into her eyes, every emotion he had ever suppressed surging to the surface. In that brief moment, the world around him faded away, leaving just the two of them, locked in a gaze that felt like an eternity.
He didn't just see her-he felt her, as if his soul had recognized something it had been searching for all along. The warmth of her body against his, the way her breath hitched in surprise, the softness of her skin beneath his fingers-it all made him want to hold on forever.
A protective instinct took over him, a deep, unspoken desire to keep her close, to shield her from everything that could ever cause her harm. His heart whispered promises he didn't fully understand, but knew he would keep.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. He had found something, someone, worth holding onto with all his might, and he wasn't about to let go.
Author's Note:Dear readers, I know what you're thinking-"This author is really laying it on thick with the praise for Harman, huh?" But let's be real, don't we do the same for our male leads? They're always 6 feet tall, perfectly muscular, with hypnotizing eyes. It's only fair that our female lead gets the same royal treatment, right? Plus, with three men obsessed with one girl, she's gotta be someone worth obsessing over, don't you think?
Now, about the late update-I'm sorry! I know some of you were eagerly waiting for this chapter last night ,someone like shine 🙈. Here's what happened: I was writing, then fell asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night, wrote some more, and... fell asleep again. Next thing I knew, it was the next day. 😶 Even if I had posted it last night, you'd probably only see it today anyway because I usually post around 11 p.m.-that's my ideal posting time. I start writing at 9 p.m., gazing at the stars (which are shooting a lot these days, by the way). It's so inspiring, but it also means I get carried away and write long, long parts. But you guys said you don't mind the long chapters, so I'm not going to cut them short. Writing over 3,000 words in two hours is tricky, so sometimes I'm a bit late. From now on, I'll post only when I'm 100% sure the chapter is ready. 😅
Please let me know how you found this part! While I hate asking for votes (because if a story is good enough, it should get votes without asking for it ), I did have a target of 800 views and 150 votes overall not just one part😶. We hit over 800 views, but we're 11 votes short-but hey, close enough! Vote only if you liked it, but I am greedy for comments. Let me know what you think, even if it's just one line! Any guesses about who the guy is that held her like he'd never let go? Isn't it obvious? 😅
And one more thing-I know these author notes are getting longer and longer. I hope you don't mind! If you've made it this far, can you answer this question with a simple yes or no: "Did this part flow well?" I tried to keep it flowing despite the interruptions in writing, but I'll definitely reread it if someone thinks it needs it. 😅
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