[Author's POV]
Saturday night drapes over the city like a warm hush, but sleep is the last thing on Aarav's mind. He lies on his bed, arms folded beneath his head, staring at the ceiling fan as it slices slowly through the thick silence of his room. The memory of that dream, of Priya, in red, glowing like a bride, standing in his room still clings to the edges of his mind like static.
He hasn't let himself rest all day. Meetings, calls, organizing files that didn't need organizing anything to keep his mind busy. He skipped his afternoon nap, stayed out longer than usual, even walked through the garden aimlessly with his earbuds in, pretending the weight in his chest was just exhaustion.
But no matter how fast he walked, or how loud the music played, the image wouldn't leave.
That red saree.
Her lips.
His hand on her waist.
Her voice saying ["open your eyes..."]
Aarav sits up abruptly, dragging a hand over his face.
"Nope. Not happening again," he mutters to himself.
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and walks to the window. The stars sparkle quietly outside, unaware of the chaos brewing inside him. Aarav opens the glass pane slightly, letting the cooler night air brush against his face.
He wants to believe it's just a random dream. A trick of the subconscious. But deep down, he knows better. Because no random dream makes your chest and something else ache the next morning.
No fluke makes you stare at someone across a presentation and forget the damn topic you're presenting.
He hasn't even known her for two weeks.
And yet... here he is.
Refusing to close his eyes.
Fearing that sleep will bring her back.
But on the other hand, Priya is fast asleep. Wrapped in her thin cotton quilt, one hand under her cheek and the other curled close to her chest, her breaths are soft and even, completely unaware of the storm churning in someone else's chest.
Her room is quiet, lit only by the faint orange glow of the streetlight slipping in through the curtains. The little balcony door is slightly ajar, letting in a gentle breeze that rustles the leaves of her two tiny plants which her new neighbor friend gave her in the evening.
She had a good evening time. The second Saturday of her life in Bangalore had felt less like survival and more like... living.
Her mother had called just before dinner. A short call but something about it left Priya lighter.
"Your Papa was asking if you're okay," her mother had said casually, as if it wasn't the biggest shock in the world.
Priya had blinked in disbelief. "Really? He asked that?"
"I think he's slowly changing his mind, beta." her mother had added gently.
And just like that, a little warmth had bloomed in Priya's chest. She hadn't even realized how tightly she'd been holding on to the fear of her father's rejection until that moment. She didn't overthink it. She didn't let her mind wander to what it meant for the future. She just smiled softly and slept better than she had in days.
No hiccups.
No dreams.
And certainly no Aarav.
Sunday passed gently for Priya, like a calm breeze after a week of storms.
She spent most of it with Savitha akka and her two cheerful kids playing carrom, learning little bits of Kannada, and even helping water the row of balcony plants they set up together. For the first time since she arrived in Bangalore, she didn't feel like an outsider. She laughed, she learned, and she let herself relax.
It was a good day.
But Monday doesn't wait for anyone.
(Monday Morning – Aarav's Cabin)
The digital clock on Aarav's desk blinked at 9:15 AM. He is already seated, crisp in a black shirt, eyes locked on the screen in front of him but he isn't reading anything.
His coffee had gone cold. Outside the tall glass walls of his cabin, the office hummed back to life after the weekend. People moved in and out of meetings, a few interns gathered nervously near the elevators, and somewhere, someone laughed too loudly at something that probably wasn't funny.
But inside Aarav's cabin, everything is still, except him. He leaned back slightly, tapping his pen against the desk. He had avoided sleep as long as he could on Saturday and sunday night—reading, scrolling through meaningless feeds, even going for a late drive—but the moment he shut his eyes, her image had returned. The red saree. The bare waist. The almost-kiss.
And the way his body reacted, it still made him uncomfortable to think about it.
He closed his eyes briefly and muttered to himself,
"Get it together, Aarav."
Then the door creaked open and in walked Ritvik, Aarav's best friend and colleague from the UX Strategy Team. Dressed in his usual laid-back style, white linen shirt tucked into faded jeans, ID card swinging from his belt loop, he strolled in like he owned the place.
Without asking, he pulled out the chair opposite Aarav and dropped into it with a lazy grin.
"You look like hell, man," Ritvik said, narrowing his eyes as he scanned Aarav's face. "Were you trying to solve world hunger over the weekend or just binge-crying over some K-drama?"
Aarav scoffed but didn't smile and Ritvik's grin faded. "No, seriously. What's going on? You didn't reply to my messages on Sunday. You ghosted the dinner. And now you're sitting here looking like your soul took a beating."
Aarav leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. "Nothing. Just didn't sleep well."
"Uh-huh. And the dark circles are just designer?"
Aarav sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I had a...weird dream."
Ritvik raised a brow, intrigued. "Weird how? The lizard-in-your-bed kind or the hot-someone-standing-in-your-bedroom kind?"
Aarav froze.
Ritvik's eyes widened. "No way."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to," Ritvik said, leaning forward with a slow, knowing smirk. "It's written all over your face. So... who was she?"
Aarav glanced away, the tip of his ears turning a slight shade of red. "Forget it. It was just a dream."
"Right. And I'm the CEO of Tesla." Ritvik crossed his arms. "Spill."
Aarav ran a hand through his hair, clearly annoyed. "I don't know, okay? It was just... intense. And unexpected. And—"
"Let me guess—someone you know in real life?"
A pause.
Ritvik blinked. "Wait. Don't tell me it was HER"
Aarav's sharp look stopped him mid-sentence.
Ritvik raised both palms. "Okay, okay. Not saying a word. But damn, man... you're spiraling. You sure it was just a dream and not a subconscious alarm?"
Aarav didn't answer.
He simply stared at his desk, like it might offer some clarity, some reset button he could push to delete Saturday morning from his memory.
But it was no use.
Because somewhere in the building, she was here. And she had no idea how much space she'd taken up in his mind.
Priya hums softly as she steps out of the elevator, her pastel pink Anarkali suit, fluttering lightly with her movements. The hallway is buzzing with the usual start-of-week chatter, but she barely notices. There's a lightness in her step, a brightness in her smile she hasn't worn in weeks.
Her hair is pinned back neatly, her tote bag slung over her shoulder, bouncing lightly as she walks toward her bay. She doesn't realize she's smiling so brightly until Tanya spots her from across the corridor and freezes mid-step.
Whoa.
Tanya's teasing instinct kicks in immediately. [Should I say Aarav's name? Tease her a bit?]
But then she catches that genuine smile, the kind that reaches Priya's eyes and lights up her entire face and decides against it. She hasn't seen Priya this happy since the girl joined.
"Good morning!" Tanya chirps instead, adjusting her own laptop bag and falling into step beside her.
Priya grins. "Hey! Very good Morning!"
"No coffee spill today?"
"Nope. Smooth day so far," she replies, half-laughing. "Let's see how long it lasts."
As they reach their desks, Priya starts powering up her system, still humming under her breath. No thoughts about a certain someone with deep eyes and a smirk that could ruin her balance.
In fact, she hadn't thought about Aarav all Sunday or even this morning.
Back in his spacious glass-walled cabin, Aarav leaned back in his chair, the morning sunlight slanting through the blinds in crisp lines across his desk. He drummed his fingers restlessly against the table for a moment, then clicked his pen sharply and leaned forward.
"Get me all the pending files on the AI-Infra project. Everything that needs review by EOD," he instructed his assistant over the intercom.
"Yes, sir. Right away."
The tone in his voice was firmer than usual like a man on a mission. Not a mission to innovate or lead his team into some next-gen product pitch. No, this was a mission to shut his brain off. To drown the chaos that had taken over since that dream.
The documents began piling up on his desk within minutes, files thick with product flowcharts, algorithm notes, feedback loops, and team reports. Letting out a breath, he rolled up the sleeves of his crisp shirt and dove in.
His eyes scanned the words on the first page, but his mind betrayed him. For a second, the edge of the report blurred and in its place, her face flashed. Red saree. Lips. Waist.....
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Stop it.
This was his space. His sanctuary. He wasn't going to let some dream no matter how vivid, no matter how soft her skin had felt in that half-real memory get in the way of the day.
Aarav exhaled sharply, shook his head, and forced his focus back onto the paper.
Work. Just work.
The day unfolds like a perfectly brewed cup of chai warm, familiar, and unexpectedly comforting.
Priya on her desk, the morning sun slanting through the office windows and pooling in golden puddles across the floor. The usual Monday rush doesn't feel so heavy today. Emails trickle in, but nothing urgent. No sudden code review panic, no manager hovering over her chair, no unexpected presentations.
Tanya offers her a chocolate from her bag around noon. "For smiling like a human today instead of a nervous robot," she jokes, and Priya laughs, accepting it.
Lunch is smooth too, no awkward glances, no unexpected meetings, just peaceful chatter and some much-needed Sāmbhar rice from the cafeteria.
By 3PM, Priya finds herself sipping chai on the balcony near the breakroom, a soft breeze playing with the ends of her dupatta. She leans on the railing, letting her eyes wander over the green patches below and the distant hum of Bangalore traffic.
Maybe everything doesn't have to be so hard, she thinks.
By 3:00 PM, Aarav stands by the tall window of his cabin, the cityscape stretching out in grey and glass before him. One hand curls around the ceramic mug the other rests casually in the pocket of his tailored black pants.
His morning had begun with a silent war. After the sleepless night, he had decided one thing with absolute clarity. Today, he would not go anywhere near her. He didn't want to risk seeing her. Not when every dream and every waking moment since Saturday had been tangled in the curve of her smile, the softness of her voice, and that maddening red saree that his mind had draped her in.
So he buried himself in work. He didn't step out of his department once. Not even for his usual strategy check-ins. Every message and meeting was shifted to Teams or phone calls. When lunchtime rolled around, he didn't bother going home like he often did. Instead, he'd texted his mother—["Can you send lunch to the office? Something light."]
She'd asked no questions. The tiffin came.
But he barely touched it, a few bites of rice, a sip or two of dal, that was it. The rest went cold beside his keyboard while he read the same status reports three times in a row.
And now, here he is standing still while his mind spins in circles.
Aarav, stop. Don't go. It's nothing. You're just imagining things. You don't even know her.
But his heart has other ideas.
It reminds him of her eyes—how they darted around nervously in the conference room last week. The way her voice had trembled when she introduced herself.
He hadn't even realized how much he'd been noticing her... until he tried to stop.
He closes his eyes for a second.
No.
He opens them again, jaw tight.
Yes.
And just like that, the internal tug-of-war ends with his heart standing victorious on a pile of broken logic.
In one swift motion, Aarav downs the rest of his coffee like a shot of courage, sets the mug down on his table with a quiet clink, and straightens his shirt.
No more hiding.
If she's there, she's there.
And if she's not... Well, at least the ache might quiet down for a while.
He walks out of his cabin like a man headed to war with nothing but a battle of emotions strapped beneath his calm, composed exterior.
He steps into the elevator with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black pants, his posture composed but his nerves quietly unraveling. The cool metallic walls reflect a version of him that looks as calm as ever, but his tapping foot on the elevator floor betrays the truth. A war rages inside.
He presses the button for the 5th floor. The floor where she works. As the elevator ascends, Aarav keeps his gaze fixed on the slowly shifting numbers above the door. His mind is loud, filled with doubts, questions, and that ever-present tug of curiosity. Why is he even doing this? What will he say if she sees him? And yet... his feet refuse to turn back.
Ding.
The doors slide open, he hesitates only for a second before stepping out into the familiar hallway. He takes a slow breath then begins walking. The receptionist at the department front desk looks up and quickly stands. "Good afternoon, sir."
A few other employees nearby notice him too. Polite nods and hurried greetings follow.
"Good afternoon, sir."
"Sir, you're here today?"
Aarav offers them a small nod, cold and unreadable. He doesn't stop, his eyes are scanning and searching.
And then—
[Aarav's POV]
There Priya is standing with a girl near the far end of the bay, her pastel pink anarkali gently swaying with her movements. There's a genuine, bright smile on her face, the kind that lights up a room without even trying. She's laughing at something the other girl just said, one hand brushing her hair behind her ear, eyes sparkling.
She looks... happy. So effortlessly happy.
I slow down as my gaze lingers on her, the corners of my lips tugging upward without permission. She's made my life upside down with just two encounters... and here she is, laughing like the sun shines just for her.
And then—She turns. Still laughing, she slightly shifts her position, her face now tilted in my direction.
My heart leaps.
Without thinking, I crouched quickly behind the nearest desk, my tall frame folding down in an awkward attempt at cover. Thankfully, the large desk and the stacked files on top of it provide enough shield.
Priya doesn't notice.
She turns back to her friend, still lost in their conversation.
I let out a silent breath, but before I can even plan my next move, a voice from above nearly startles me out of my skin.
"Sir?" one of the employees blinks down at me in surprise. "Are you... alright?"
I froze then clearing my throat, i straightens slightly and points at my foot.
"My shoelaces," I mutter, faking a calm voice as I pretend to tie the already tied laces on my polished black shoes.
"Oh," the employee says, clearly confused but choosing not to question further. "Alright, sir."
Once the man walks away, I carefully peeks over the desk again.
Is she still facing this way?
No.
She's turned completely now, back to chatting with her friend, unaware of the silent chaos I just endured a few feet away.
I run quietly but with surprising speed I turn and walk briskly toward the elevator, my head slightly down like a man escaping a crime scene. The moment I stepped inside, I pressed the button for my floor and exhaled like I just survived a natural disaster.
By the time I reached my cabin again, my heart was pounding loud and relentless in my chest. I walked in, shut the door, and leaned back against it. "What the hell is happening to me?"
He doesn't have the answer.
But he knows one thing for sure—
He's never felt this ridiculous over anyone before.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued..........
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