3. The Space between them
The Raghuvanshi penthouse stood like a quiet fortress in the Mumbai skyline , floors above the chaos, above the city’s neon heartbeat. But inside, in the stillness of 4AM, Surya Raghuvanshi was wide awake.
He didn’t like being awake this early.
Not because of the silence ,he liked that , but because this hour stripped him down. No meetings. No strategy. No distractions. Just him… and the ache.
He stood at the edge of his private balcony, wrapped in an old grey hoodie and cotton pyjamas.
Not CEO Surya. Not the man whose signature decided millions. Just a boy with insomnia and questions too big for his chest.
Behind him, the automatic lights in his room dimmed gently. His desk was still lit, a notebook lying open with a sentence scratched into the page:
“Why does everything I build still feel empty?”
He didn’t know why he wrote it. It had just come to him.
Surya wasn’t dramatic. He was practical. Thoughtful. The kind of man who read five different newspapers and never forgot a birthday. He didn’t let storms take over.
The quiet wasn’t peaceful anymore.
He’d been dreaming strange things.
A girl. Never clearly seen, but always felt. Hair tangled like wild stories. Voice that came like an afterthought.
A presence that made his heart hurt in that soft, unbearable way you only feel when someone gets you without ever saying a word.
Surya Raghuvanshi
Useless thoughts *He muttered.*
At breakfast, his family noticed.
Ved, just turned 18, loud, mischievous, halfway into his third Paratha, squinted at him.
Ved Raghuvanshi (ML's Brother)
Did someone reject your LinkedIn request or what?
Surya Raghuvanshi
Yes, Ved. That’s exactly what keeps me up at night. *He gave him a glare.*
Ved Raghuvanshi (ML's Brother)
Then send her a follow-up email saying you’re emotionally available now. *Said while grinning.*
Avni Raghuvanshi (ML’s Mom)
*Laughed softly from her seat.* Enough, Ved. Don’t poke your brother like that.
Saanvi, 17, quieter and bookish, gave Surya a knowing look from across the table. She never teased but only noticed.
Saanvi Raghuvanshi (ML’s Sister)
You’re thinking too much again. *She said while reaching for the toast.* Go easy on yourself Bhaiya.
Avni served Surya another paratha even though he hadn’t finished the first. That was her love language that was food. She never said, I’m worried, but you could tell by the extra spoon of ghee.
And their father, observant and wise, sat with his tea, waiting for his son to speak.
But Vikram caught his eyes.
Vikram Raghuvanshi (ML’s Dad)
Whatever it is, *He said calmly* you’ll figure it out. You always do. You were born with a compass most people spend their whole lives building.
It hit Surya in the chest. That kind of belief.
Later that day – In his office at Raghuvanshi Group.
The conference table was clean. His assistant had already arranged the files for the Singapore merger, the design team was pitching the new logo variants, and his calendar buzzed with appointments.
Not when something inside him was shifting, like his heart was turning its head to listen to a song that hadn’t played yet.
He found himself scrolling through Instagram mindlessly during a break, rare for him. A post caught his eye.
Raw. Chaotic. Beautiful. Like it had been born out of a storm.
It had no hashtags. Just one line in the caption. “Some feelings don’t want names.” -@inkywitch
Surya stared at it.
He didn’t double-tap.
Didn’t follow.
Didn’t even save.
But he couldn’t look away.
And then he closed the app. Stood up. Paced.
Something about that sketch made his lungs feel tight. Like it was meant for him but not yet.
That night, the dreams returned.
Only this time, he saw her hands. Smudged with ink. Fingers that shook when they made art. Fire in her voice even when she whispered.
The dream didn’t scare him.
And when he woke up, the first word that came to his mind without reason, without logic was - Sameeksha.
He didn’t know anyone with that name.
But it tasted like something real.
Like something about to change everything.
Sameeksha sat by her window, knees pulled to her chest, sketchbook open, but untouched.
She hadn’t been able to sleep.
And not in the usual overthinking way.
No, this was different. A quiet ache under her ribs. A kind of… search. For what, she had no idea.
THAT DREAM.
A tall shadow. A presence. She didn’t see his face, but she remembered his silence. Not cold but heavy. Like he carried a thousand things he never said aloud. His fingers brushed hers in the dream, and the moment they touched, she felt something collapse gently, like surrender.
She woke up gasping.
And now she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
she was remembering that dream just then the door opened and Anaya barged inside.
Anaya Shetty (Fl’s Best friend)
Dude , what is going on with you currently.?
Sameeksha Rathore
Nothing, why.? *Blinked.*
Anaya Shetty (Fl’s Best friend)
You haven’t posted art in a week. You haven’t ranted about society’s pretentious love for minimalism in two days. You didn’t even cry during Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani last night. You’re scaring me.
Sameeksha Rathore
*She smiles.* I just… I don’t know. I feel like something’s coming. Or maybe I’m going.
Anaya Shetty (Fl’s Best friend)
*Raised her eyebrow.* Baby girl, either you’re getting psychic again or PMS just hit different this time.
Sameeksha laughed. But still, she looked back at the sketch.
And then down at her phone.
She didn’t know why she opened LinkedIn of all apps. She rarely used it , the app annoyed her. Everyone there was either too fake-happy or too success-thirsty.
But something Nudged her.
She clicked on a notification.
A new position announcement: Surya Raghuvanshi, Group CEO at Raghuvanshi Infrastructure.
She didn’t know why she froze.
Just a name. Just a post.
But her fingers stilled above the screen.
And that was before she even tapped on the profile.
When she finally did, she found a man with sharp eyes and an unreadable smile.
His bio was clean, efficient: “Vision. Structure. Integrity.”
But his eyes didn’t match that.
There was something broken in them. Something she felt she knew.
Sameeksha’s breath hitched.
Didn’t follow. Didn’t connect.
Later that day, when she sat in her little home studio surrounded by half-used paints, ink bottles, and undone canvases, she opened a fresh page and began to paint.
It came out of her without any thought.
A silhouette standing in the rain. His back to her. A city behind him. And around him, emptiness shaped like longing.
She titled it:
“He waits, but doesn’t know what for.”
That night, she had the dream again.
But this time, she heard the name.
Sameeksha woke up with her hands covered in charcoal and her heart racing.
She had never met anyone named Surya.
But she whispered the name anyway, into the morning air like a secret.
Sameeksha Rathore
Who are you.?
Author ✍️❤️
Bye bye, Mwaah cuties
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