Chapter four

The fawn

Walking along Mall Road with Mira, the whole world was buzzing with tourists everywhere, clicking pictures, the smell of roasted corn in the air, shopkeepers calling out. But honestly? I wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

Because all I could really focus on… was him.

Devaansh.

A few steps behind us, keeping this weird distance...not too close, not too far. Just enough so I could feel him there, like this subtle energy pulling at me. But still far enough that I could let my brain do what it does best...spiral.

I mean seriously. I just met him. I barely know the guy. And here I was, acting like I’d fallen into some slow burn romance novel. And God knows I hate slow burns.

I shook my head a little. Get a grip, seriously.

Out of sheer reflex, I glanced back over my shoulder. Just one more time. And there he was, walking with that stupid effortless confidence, hands in his pockets, looking like… I don’t know, a freaking movie scene. Ugh.

Last night, after everything, Mira interrogated me at the hotel about Mr.Jha of course . And I ended up enlightening her about the garden, the flower, and how it felt seeing him again. And of course, Mira being Mira immediately declared he was into me and this was “basically a date.”

A date? No way. This wasn’t a date. It was just... a thing. A casual hangout.

Right?

Yeah, he remembered me from when we were kids. But that was forever ago. One tiny, blurry memory. Still… I remembered trying to find him once. I actually stood outside a house I thought was his, heart racing... but I never rang the bell. I didn’t even know his full name. I was just some kid with way too many feelings and not enough guts.

Was he my friend back then? Who knows. But that memory… it stuck with me.

Before my brain could spiral again, Mira’s voice snapped me out of it.

“Oh my god, Sushi! Look at that bookstore!”

Before I could even answer, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me inside. The little bell above the door rang as we stepped in, and the place was straight out of a dream...wooden shelves packed with books, the smell of old pages and cedar, that perfect soft bookstore light.

Then the bell rang again.

I didn’t have to turn. I already knew. It was him. Devaansh. Following us in, looking around.

My mind flashed back to earlier—“Did you bring Mira just to annoy me?”

I’d joked back. But the truth? I’d made her come with me because I was too nervous to face him alone.

I shook the thought off and wandered between the shelves. God, I loved places like this. Books were my escape. Fiction, especially. A way to lose myself. I didn’t read as much as I wanted to, but poetry? That was my thing. Writing it gave me that same escape, that same sense of slipping away into something quieter, softer.

---

Somehow, the afternoon flew by. It was already 4 PM before we even noticed. Devaansh still had a few places he wanted to take us, said the view would be even better once the sun started setting.

We were tucked into this tiny café in Summer Hill, sipping tea, watching the sky change. It was beautiful. But… if I’m honest, nothing really topped that secret spot from yesterday.

Mira’s phone buzzed. She stepped away to take the call. I glanced over at Devaansh. He was a few feet away, leaning against the wall, cigarette between his fingers.

Huh. I didn’t even know he smoked. But weirdly… it didn’t bother me.

Mira came back, slipping her phone into her jacket. “Sushi, I gotta run! Totally forgot I have plans with some friends here. I would’ve taken you with me, but I know how much you hate parties,” she said, grinning.

Then, throwing a teasing look toward Devaansh

“And honestly? I’ve had enough fun being the third wheel today.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. She grabbed her purse, hugged me quick. “Be safe!” I called after her, though I wasn’t sure she heard me.

And just like that… it was the two of us.

---

A few more sips of tea. Just enough courage. I grabbed my phone and walked over to him, tapped his shoulder lightly.

“Smoking’s bad for your health, you know?” I said, trying to sound casual. My heart had other plans.

“Is it?” he grinned, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his shoe. Like it was nothing.

“Mhm.” I nodded, matching his smile without even trying.

And god, I couldn’t explain it, but being with him felt easy. Like... we didn’t have to fill the silences. There was no pressure to talk all the time. Just this quiet, comfortable... something.

His eyes flicked toward the table I’d been sitting at. “Mira?”

“Oh, she had some party to get to,” I said, slipping my phone into my pocket. “So now… you’re stuck with me.” I pulled a fake sad face, teasing.

“Well, that’s an honor, princess” he said, giving a playful little bow, extending his right hand toward me.

I smirked, the new nickname making my heart do this stupid little flip. “My, my... we’re already giving each other nicknames?” I teased, not taking his hand. “I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t like that very much.”

Yup, totally intentional question. Just a little curious. Okay… a lot curious.

He kept his hand out, that mischievous grin not budging. “Well… that depends” he said, as if thinking it over.

“Depends?” I tilted my head, playing along. “Depends on what, exactly?”

He took a small step closer, that little glint in his eyes. “On whether you have a boyfriend who’d mind me calling you, princess.”

And of course... there it was. I felt my cheeks warm. Smile threatening to give me away. I was this close to blurting out that I didn’t have one, but no. Not yet. Let him work for it a little.

“Well…” I said, brushing past him and heading toward the café door. I knew he’d follow. “That depends on which boyfriend you’re talking about. You see… I have many.”

Couldn’t stop the grin this time.

Behind me, he gasped...dramatically, like a wounded prince. “So… you play with hearts, do you, princess?” he said, a hand to his chest like he was scandalized.

God, someone needed to tell him to stop with the princess thing. Because honestly? If he kept going, I might just turn into one of those butterflies currently doing gymnastics in my stomach.

Putting on a mock sad face, I nodded. “They’re just... too good to be true, you know? I can’t help myself.”

He laughed, the sound warm, easy. “Well then... if I may ask, what are these many boyfriends of yours like, hmm, princess?”

“And why, exactly, would you want to know?” I shot back, finally glancing his way as we strolled down the street.

I had no clue where we were headed. But with him? I didn’t really care. Anywhere would’ve been fine.

“For the future, of course,” he said, without missing a beat. “In case I need to… take their place.”

I was definitely blushing at this point—and no way was I about to answer that last comment. So, desperate for a distraction, I blurted,

“Where are we going?” throwing a glance around at the street.

He just smiled, that knowing smile. “Ah... topic change. I see how it is.” But, to his credit, he didn’t push it further.

Ugh. Stop being so nice, Devaansh. I swear, if he kept this up, I might just explode.

“Since Mira’s gone, I figured I’d take you to one of my favorite places,” he said calmly, extending his hand toward me again.

I looked at it—his open, steady hand—and then up at his stupidly gorgeous face. A mental note formed instantly: write a poem about this man the second I get back to the hotel.

Trying to keep my cool, I tilted my head. “You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?” I asked, eyes meeting his. God, those light brown eyes... absolutely unfair.

He gasped, dramatic as always. “Damn... you figured out my evil plan?” His expression was so perfectly fake-guilty that I couldn’t help but laugh.

Smiling, I finally placed my hand in his.

Warm. Steady. A tiny moment... but it buzzed all the way up my arm.

As we started walking, my eyes caught something—a faint scar on his left hand. Without thinking, I asked softly, “How did you get that?”

He followed my gaze, then looked back at me. But instead of pulling away, his fingers tightened just a little around mine, and we kept walking.

“Don’t cringe, but... I was a teenager,” he started quietly. “I was here in Shimla, had just finished my boards. And honestly... it was one of the lowest points of my life.” His voice stayed calm, but there was weight in every word. “The thought of the pain... it felt better. So the intrusive thought won. Burned myself with a cigarette.”

I glanced at his face, searching for regret... but there wasn’t any. Just this quiet kind of acceptance. Like he’d made peace with it long ago.

Without thinking, I gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. Because right then, it was. Not the scar itself—but the story behind it. The survival. Him.

He tilted his head, that familiar curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Was that a compliment?”

“Yes, it was, Mr. Devaansh,” I replied, smiling. “It makes you... you. So it’s beautiful.”

And for once... I actually meant every word.

He just smiled, saying nothing. I finally tore my gaze away from his face and glanced around, turns out, we were standing near a bus stop.

I was about to ask him something, but just then a bus pulled up in front of us. And since his hand was still holding mine… well, I followed him without a word.

The bus wasn’t too crowded, but not empty either. His eyes scanned the seats, and when they landed on a window seat, they lit up...soft, happy.

Devaansh turned to me, almost asking for permission, “Do you want the window seat?”

I shook my head. Somehow, I just knew... he loved sitting there.

And so he did, settling in by the window while I slid in beside him.

He stared out for a while, his face so calm… so at peace, like the city rolling past that glass meant something special to him.

A few moments passed before he finally looked at me.

“I used to always take the bus home after school” he said, voice soft, sharing the memory with me.

I smiled, watching his expression. It was more than just a bus ride to him, I could tell. A piece of something simpler, maybe even happier.

His hand was still wrapped around mine. Slowly, his gaze drifted down to our joined hands… then, without a word, he gently intertwined our fingers together.

My heart skipped, just a little flutter...but enough to make me glance at him again. It was such a simple thing... and yet somehow it felt so intimate.

“I’m glad I’m here with you, Miss Sushrita” he murmured, almost like a secret between us. “I wouldn’t relive this memory any other way.”

For a second, I didn’t know what to say. Because... this? This was more than just a casual connection, and we both knew it.

“It's and honor, Mr. Devaansh” I say, softly matching his voice.

Our feelings weren’t complicated, not really. We could tell what the other felt, without needing to spell it out.

The only question left was... were we moving too fast?

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