Chapter 4: Warm Morning

The next morning, Sanvee walked into the living room and froze for a second.

There he was.

Aarav Raizada.

Not with a laptop, not on a call—just sitting on the leather sofa, reading a book.

It wasn’t something she expected to see.

He looked… peaceful.

Until he looked up.

“Good morning,” she said carefully, almost testing the air.

To her surprise, Aarav didn’t glare or scoff.

“Morning,” he replied.

That was it.

No sarcasm. No mood.

Just a simple greeting. Normal.

Sanvee raised an eyebrow and sank into the seat across from him.

“You okay? Blink twice if you’ve been replaced by a lookalike.”

“No,” he replied. “I just haven’t had coffee yet.”

She smirked. “Makes sense. You’re only scary after caffeine.”

He closed the book halfway. “You’re unusually cheerful this early.”

“I slept well,” she said. “Or maybe your house finally hypnotized me. Who knows?”

“What are you drawing these days?”

His question caught her off guard. “You mean… my art?”

Aarav nodded.

“Mostly quick sketches. People. Moments. Sometimes I don’t even know what it is until it’s done.”

“I saw your sketch last night. The one by the balcony,” he said. “You’re good.”

Sanvee blinked. He’d looked?

And he remembered?

“Thanks,” she said, trying to act cool. “Didn’t peg you as the art-appreciating type.”

“I’m not,” he said. “But I recognize talent.”

And then he returned to his book like that was a normal thing to say.

Sanvee didn’t reply. She just watched him for a second.

Something about this version of Aarav—the quiet, still one—was more unsettling than when he was cold and sarcastic.

⸻

A few hours later, the cousins had gathered in the garden. A “mandatory relaxation session,” as Vivaan had called it.

There were bean bags, iced tea, Bluetooth speakers playing soft music, and Rehaan pretending to work while fully horizontal on a lounger.

“Come on, Aarav,” Aarohi called out as he walked in. “Don’t just stand there. Sit. Pretend to be human.”

“I am human,” he replied, sipping his ever-present black coffee.

“You say that,” Meher said, munching on chips, “but I’ve never seen you eat dessert. I think you run on bitterness and stock prices.”

Aarav rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Sanvee plopped into a bean bag beside Meher. “I second that. He’s probably solar-powered. Only charges during investor meetings.”

Vivaan let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh no. She’s getting comfortable. The sarcasm’s flowing freely now.”

“It was only a matter of time,” Rehaan said without looking up. “The Raizada effect is contagious.”

Even Aarav gave a small smile.

For a moment, it felt like a regular day. No drama. No tension. Just people teasing each other, surrounded by sunshine and laughter.

But later, when the music faded and the cousins started dozing off, Aarav stood up and quietly walked to the far side of the garden.

Sanvee didn’t think. She just followed.

⸻

He stood near the old stone fountain, tossing pebbles into the still water like it would answer his thoughts.

“You really don’t like sitting still, do you?” Sanvee asked gently.

“I do,” he said. “Just not with too many people around.”

Sanvee stood next to him. “You’re not as cold as you act, you know.”

“I’ve learned to be careful.”

She didn’t ask what that meant. Instead, she said, “Aanya told me you used to be more fun.”

Aarav didn’t look at her.

Then: “That was before.”

“Before what?”

He didn’t answer.

But she didn’t walk away.

After a pause, he said, “People make mistakes. Some hurt more than others. It changes how you deal with the world.”

Sanvee looked at him. There was something raw in his voice, like an old scar that hadn’t completely healed.

“I get it,” she said softly. “Everyone’s carrying something.”

He turned to face her. “Just don’t let this house fool you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every family has things they hide,” Aarav said. “Ours just hides it with nicer furniture.”

Sanvee smiled slightly. “That’s… surprisingly honest.”

“I trust very few people, Sanvee. Don’t take it lightly.”

She nodded slowly.

And they stood there in silence, side by side. Not talking. Just breathing in the same space.

⸻

That night, Sanvee sat in the art room. A full moon lit the space through the tall glass windows.

Her sketchbook lay open.

She stared at the page she’d drawn the night before—the one with the house and shadows.

It looked like the mansion. But older. Distant. Slightly broken.

She flipped to a new page.

This time, she drew something small.

A locket.

She didn’t know why.

Just that her hand kept moving, drawing a piece of jewelry she didn’t remember ever seeing before.

She looked at it for a long time.

Then closed the book.

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