Fateful Encounter
The Bookstore Café – A Rainy Evening
The soft sound of rain taps against the windows of Chapters & Coffee, a cozy bookstore café tucked in a quiet street. The warm glow of fairy lights illuminates the wooden shelves stacked with books of all genres. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, mixing with the scent of old pages.
Minakshi Malhotra, a 24-year-old aspiring writer, sits by the window, lost in the world of her book. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she turns the page, her cappuccino sitting untouched beside her.
This bookstore café has always been her safe haven—a place where time slows down, and reality blurs into fiction.
At the same time, Abhay Singhania, a 25-year-old musician, enters the café, shaking off the raindrops clinging to his hoodie. His guitar case rests against his back as he glances around, searching for inspiration. He’s been stuck in a creative block for weeks, and bookstores always have a way of helping him find the right melody.
A Not-So-Accidental Meeting
Meenakshi reaches for a book on the top shelf—The Picture of Dorian Gray—but just as her fingers graze the spine, it slips from its place. She gasps, watching helplessly as a small stack of books tumbles down.
Before she can react, a hand shoots out, catching one of the falling books midair.
Abhay Singhania
Whoa, careful
a deep voice says, laced with amusement.
Minakshi looks up to see Abhay, holding the book effortlessly. His dark eyes gleam with mischief as he studies her.
Abhay Singhania
I guess fate wanted us to read the same book
He muses, glancing at The Picture of Dorian Gray in her hand
Minakshi, slightly flustered, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
Minakshi Malhotra
Or maybe fate just wanted to embarrass me
Abhay Singhania
Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m a stranger who also happens to appreciate Oscar Wilde
Meenakshi raises an eyebrow
Minakshi Malhotra
You read Wilde?
Abhay Singhania
I have a casual interest of reading. Music isn’t my only language, you know.
She narrows her eyes playfully
Minakshi Malhotra
And what’s your favorite Wilde quote, musician-who-dabbles-in-literature?
Without missing a beat, Abhay recites
Abhay Singhania
To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.
Minakshi’s lips part in surprise
Abhay places a hand on his heart in mock offense
Abhay Singhania
I expected applause at the very least.
She chuckles, shaking her head
Minakshi Malhotra
You’re impossible
Abhay Singhania
(grins) And yet, you’re still talking to me
Both of them walk away smiling
Before either of them quite realizes it, they end up at the café counter together.
Abhay Singhania
Black coffee
Minakshi Malhotra
(right after) Cappuccino
Abhay Singhania
(glancing at Minakshi) You seem like the kind of person who overthinks everything but somehow believes that coffee can solve it
Minakshi Malhotra
And you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t plan anything and just hopes the universe will do it for you.
Abhay Singhania
(laughing) Touché
They carry their drinks to the same corner Meenakshi had been sitting in earlier
Conversation flows easily—books, music, dreams. He tells her about the song he’s been struggling to finish, she tells him about the novel she can’t seem to write
Abhay Singhania
(swirling his coffee) maybe you’re just waiting for the right story
Minakshi Malhotra
(tilts her head) And what if I never find it?
Abhay’s lips curve into a small smile
Abhay Singhania
Then maybe the right story will find you
An hour passes, then two. Neither of them notice the time until the café staff start stacking chairs. The rain outside has stopped, leaving the streets fresh and glistening under the streetlights
As they step out, Minakshi pulls her scarf tighter, shivering slightly in the cool air.
Abhay notices. Without a word, he takes off his hoodie and drapes it over her shoulders.
Minakshi Malhotra
(blinks in surprise) You really don’t have to—
Abhay Singhania
(winks) Consider it a favor from a fellow Wilde fan
She shakes her head but smiles, warmth spreading in her chest
And just like that, in a small bookstore café on a rainy evening, love had begun to write its first chapter.
As they part ways, Meenakshi glances back at him one last time. Something about tonight feels different, like a beginning neither of them can quite define yet
Comments