55. LOST!!
The next morning passed quietly.
Everyone was gathered in the hotel lounge—warm sunlight spilling through the glass windows, turning the wooden floor golden. Tea cups rested half-empty on the table, steam curling lazily into the air as soft conversations overlapped.
Vivan stepped away from the lounge, phone pressed to his ear as he stood near the glass window overlooking the snow-covered road below.
“How's the situation now?,” he asked quietly.
A brief pause.
Then the voice on the other end continued, steady and professional.
“The situation has slowed down significantly, sir. Most people have accepted the clarification. The narrative has shifted—your statement helped. Aarvi’s image is stable now.”
Vivan exhaled slowly.
“So it’s settled?”
“Mostly,” the manager replied. “There will always be a section that won’t be satisfied. A few accounts are still pushing theories, but nothing that can escalate now. It’s manageable.”
Vivan gave a small, humourless smile.
“Of course there will be,” he said. “You can’t clear every rumour. You can’t fix every mind.”
There was a pause on the line.
“We’ll keep monitoring,” the man added. “For now, it’s safe. No media, no paparazzi. You don’t need to worry.”
Vivan’s gaze drifted back inside the lounge.
Aarvi sat there, talking softly to Pragya, sunlight brushing her hair. Calm. Unaware.
“I wasn’t worried about the media,” he said quietly.
Another pause.
“…Sir?”
“Ah keep focused like this,” Vivan continued, voice low.
The man on the other end softened his tone. “Understood. We’ve got it under control.”
Vivan nodded to himself.
“Good,” he said. “Let it die down naturally. No more statements. No forced clarifications.”
“Alright.”
He ended the call.
For a moment, he stayed where he was, phone still in his hand.
Then he looked at Aarvi again.
Peaceful.
Unbothered.
He went back and sat on the couch.
Aarvi sat still for a while, fingers wrapped around her cup, gaze drifting beyond the windows—to the mountains standing calm and unmoving.
Then she spoke.
“I want to go out.”
The room paused.
“Where?” Pragya asked gently, looking up from her tea.
“There’s a small temple,” Aarvi replied, voice steady. “And a local cafe near it. I noticed it yesterday while returning from the market. I just want to look around for a bit.”
Vinod studied her for a moment before saying calmly, “Beta, you should take someone with you. This place is still new for you.”
Aarvi smiled, reassuring. “It’s okay, papa. I remember the streets. And I have my phon, I’ll call if I need anything.”
Vinod nodded, convinced.
But Vivan wasn’t.
“Are you sure?” he asked, eyes fixed on her.
She met his gaze and nodded confidently.
“Yes.”
He didn’t say anything after that.
But something inside him didn’t settle.
And she left.
Time passed.
Too much time.
Vivan glanced at his watch once.
Then again
“She should be back by now,” he muttered under his breath.
No one replied.
Ten more minutes crawled by.
He stood up abruptly.
“Did she call?” he asked Prisha.
She shook her head.
His chest tightened.
He took out his phone and dialed Aarvi’s number.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
That was it.
“I’m going to look for her,” he said, already shrugging into his jacket.
No hesitation. No discussion.
She had been confident at first.
The temple was easy to find. Quiet. Peaceful. The cafe too. Small, warm, tucked into a corner just like she’d remembered.
But on the way back—
The lanes blurred.
Every turn felt familiar, yet wrong.
Every shop looked like one she’d already passed—twice. Maybe three times.
She slowed.
Her heart began to thud.
This wasn’t right.
She reached for her phone.
Nothing.
Her breath hitched.
She checked her pockets again. Her bag. Slowly. Desperately.
Empty.
That’s when she remembered.
The bedside table.
She’d left it there while changing her shawl.
A cold wave of panic slid through her chest.
She tried asking people, but the directions tangled in her head—lefts turning into rights, landmarks she couldn’t recognize.
The cold felt sharper now, biting through her gloves.
Her steps faltered.
She turned once.
Then again.
Nothing looked familiar anymore.
And for the first time since she’d stepped out.
Fear set in.
Vivan stepped out into the streets, searching.
Every temple.
Every cafe.
Every narrow lane she could’ve taken.
Nothing.
He asked shopkeepers, guides, locals standing near stalls—showed them her description, pointed down roads, retraced steps again and again.
No one had seen her.
Minutes slipped into an hour.
Then another.
By evening, the sky had begun to dim, the mountains turning grey-blue under the fading light.
The search widened.
Vinod moved through one side of the market with Vedant, questioning people calmly but firmly.
Yuvan checked the cafe stretch again, faster this time, scanning every face that passed him.
Prisha stayed back at the hotel with Pragya, trying to keep her distracted—talking, making tea—while sneaking worried glances at her phone every few seconds.
And Vivan?
Vivan couldn’t think straight.
He wanted to. He tried to.
But his heart sank with every step he took.
A tight lump formed in his throat as he swallowed hard, pushing away thoughts he didn’t want to let in, what if—
His chest ached.
His heartbeat thudded so loudly it felt like it might burst out of him.
He called her again.
And again.
The phone rang.
She didn’t pick up.
Why wasn’t she picking up?
He dragged a hand through his hair, breathing uneven, turning back down the same street for the third time—searching faces, corners, shadows.
Nothing.
Restlessness crept into his bones.
Fear followed.
Meanwhile, Aarvi stood near a junction, clutching her shawl tighter around herself.
She asked another stranger for directions.
They spoke slowly, pointing left, then right, mentioning landmarks she didn’t recognize.
Her confusion only deepened.
The streets felt unfamiliar now—too crowded, too loud.
She could feel eyes on her.
Lingering.
Curious.
Her steps faltered.
Her vision blurred as tears welled up, cold air stinging her eyes.
She thought about asking someone for a phone.
But, She froze.
She didn’t remember anyone’s number.
Not clearly.
Her fingers curled into her palms as a shiver ran through her body—whether from the cold or fear, she couldn’t tell.
Her breath came out shaky.
The mountains felt farther away now.
She felt truly alone.
After walking for a while, an idea struck her.
She approached a stranger hesitantly.
“Can I… can I use your phone? Mine’s dead,” she said, voice tight with restraint.
The man nodded and handed it to her.
Her fingers trembled as she dialed her own number.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Nothing.
Each unanswered ring tightened the knot in her chest.
She handed the phone back with a quiet thank you and turned away, her steps slow now, heavy.
Without realizing, she wandered into a park—tall trees standing like silent witnesses, the air colder, quieter. She dropped onto a bench and leaned forward, palms covering her face.
A long, shaky breath left her lips.
She was tired. Scared. Lost.
And then—
A voice cut through the air.
“Ha—have you seen this girl?”
Her breath hitched.
That voice.
Her head snapped up instantly—shock colliding with hope, fear dissolving into disbelief.
“VIVAN!”
She shouted his name with everything she had left.
He turned.
And that was it.
The world narrowed to just her.
A wide, unguarded smile broke across his face—the kind that reached his eyes, the kind he hadn’t even known he was capable of anymore. He lost it. Lost his control, his sense, his composure.
He ran.
So did she.
They collided in the middle of the park, arms wrapping around each other tightly—too tight, almost crushing, as if letting go wasn’t an option anymore.
Aarvi buried her face into his chest, and the sob she’d been holding back for hours finally broke free. Her shoulders shook as fear poured out of her in silent tears.
Vivan closed his eyes, pressing his face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in.
Relief flooded his chest—so sudden, so overwhelming, it almost hurt.
He tightened his grip, as if daring the universe to take her away again.
“You—you don’t know ho… how scared I was,” he whispered, voice breaking, stammering for the first time in front of her.
Aarvi clutched him harder, burying herself deeper into his warmth—the familiarity she hadn’t known she needed so desperately.
“I—I was scared mor… more,” she whispered back, words dissolving into tears.
Vivan blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blur in his vision, but it stayed.
When they finally pulled apart—slowly, reluctantly—his hands came up to her face. With his fingers, he gently wiped her tears away, each touch careful, reverent.
“I’m here now,” he said softly, steady despite everything inside him shaking.
“You don’t need to be scared.”
Aarvi nodded, eyes still wet—but calmer now.
Because he was here.
Vivan cleared his throat softly.
“Let’s… get back, hmm?”
Aarvi nodded.
They started walking—side by side.
For the first time since she had stepped out alone, Aarvi felt light. Steady. The strange stares, the unfamiliar lanes—none of it mattered now. The fear had loosened its grip, simply because he was walking beside her.
Meanwhile, Vivan had already pulled out his phone, dialing Yuvan as they walked.
“I found her,” he said, relief obvious in his voice. “Yeah. She’s with me. Tell everyone.”
A small laugh escaped him as Yuvan said something on the other end.
Aarvi glanced at him curiously.
“Why are you laughing?”
He looked at her, smiling now—genuine, easy, the tension finally gone from his eyes.
“Because papa and maa are waiting for you,” he said. “Fully prepared. With lectures.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He nodded, amusement flickering across his face.
“Ah,” she groaned, slowing her steps. “I don’t want to go back now.”
That did it.
Vivan chuckled, shaking his head.
“Well, you do deserve a little scolding,” he teased lightly. Then, softer, more honest—
“You know how scared everyone was?”
He paused.
His smile faded.
“How scared I was—”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
He halted mid-step.
So did she.
Vivan turned to face her, his expression stripped of humor, stripped of control. This time, he didn’t look away.
“I don’t know, Aarvi,” he said slowly, as if choosing each word with care. “But I was scared. Scared to hell.”
For a moment, Aarvi just looked at him.
Then, she smiled, the one which never reached her ears and without saying anything, she started walking again.
And Vivan followed.
They walked back toward the hotel slowly.
Beside eachother.
Not touching.
But close enough.
Close enough that his presence felt constant—warm, steady, grounding.
Every few steps, his gaze flickered toward her. Not obvious. Just enough to reassure himself she was still there. Still safe. Still walking beside him.
Aarvi hugged her arms around herself, fingers disappearing into her sleeves. The cold brushed her cheeks, but it didn’t reach her the way it had before. Something inside her had shifted—fear draining away, leaving behind a fragile calm she didn’t want to disturb.
Neither of them spoke.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because, right now—
Words felt too small.
The hotel finally came into view eventually, its warm yellow lights glowing against the cold blue of the night.
Aarvi slowed without realizing it.
So did he.
As if both of them knew—once they crossed those doors, the quiet would shatter. The warmth wouldn’t just be from heaters, but from voices.
Questions. Concern. Noise.
And exactly that happened.
The moment they stepped inside—
“Aarvi!”
Everyone rushed toward her at once.
Hands pulled her forward, voices overlapped, questions collided with relief. In the chaos, Vivan was pushed aside, his foot catching awkwardly against the floor as he stumbled back.
“What the f—” he muttered under his breath, regaining balance just in time.
She barely had space to breathe.
“Are you okay?”
“Do you even realize how worried we were?”
“How can you be so careless?”
“Thank God Vivan found you!”
“You’re not going anywhere alone now.”
“We thought you are grown up—that’s why we let you go alone, but you’re just as clumsy as Prisha!”
Aarvi stood there, shoulders hunched, eyes darting from one face to another, nodding weakly as the relief slowly transformed into scolding.
Vinod and Pragya—calm at first, then firm. Concern wrapped tightly in lectures.
And through it all—
Vivan sat a little away.
Watching.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
Not mocking. Not smug.
Just… amused.
Relieved.
Aarvi noticed.
Of course she did.
She shot him a sharp glare—one that promised consequences.
He didn’t stop smiling.
That’s when Pragya noticed.
“Aarvi,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly, “why are you glaring at Vivan when I am talking to you?”
Aarvi answered instantly, without thinking.
“he’s smiling at me maa.”
That was it.
Pragya’s patience snapped.
“Stop behaving like a kid, Aarvi,” she scolded sharply.
Aarvi looked down, chastened.
And Vivan?
He chuckled.
Softly.
Absolutely unapologetic.
And she?
She cursed him in hundred different languages in her mind.
That's how the rest of the day went with, laughing, teasings and scoldings.
Today was the day.
The day they were going back.
With the social media chaos finally slowing down, the hotel room was filled with half-packed bags, folded sweaters, and that quiet rush that always comes before departure.
Aarvi moved around the room carefully, checking and rechecking everything—clothes, charger, shawl—until she opened the cupboard one last time.
And froze.
Anklets.
The silver ones.
The ones she had liked.
Her fingers brushed over them slowly before she lifted them, the faint chime echoing softly in the room.
“Vivan.”
He hummed absentmindedly, still focused on zipping his bag.
“Vivan,” she called again.
He turned.
And the moment his eyes dropped to her hand—
His eyes widened.
“No,” he said instantly, already moving toward her.
Too late.
He reached for the anklets, urgency written all over his face, but Aarvi was quicker. She jerked her hand behind her back, stepping away with a glint of mischief in her eyes.
“Aarvi,” he warned, lowering his voice, “give those to me.”
She tilted her head, lips curling into a teasing smile. Last night’s embarrassment clearly hadn’t been forgiven.
“No,” she said sweetly. “I think I’ll show ma that what kind of likings her son has.”
His breath hitched. “What are you even saying?”
She lifted the anklets slightly, making them chime again. “Then why did you buy these?” she asked innocently. “I saw you, you know. You were looking at me when I chose them. I just didn’t think you liked them this much.”
His ears flushed.
“Why would I buy anklets for myself?” he snapped, clearly flustered now. “Just—give it back to me.”
“Nope.”
She stepped back again.
He stepped forward.
What followed was less of an argument and more of a silent chase around the bed—Vivan trying to snatch the anklets, Aarvi dodging him, laughter barely contained.
“Stop moving,” he muttered.
“You’re the one moving,” she shot back.
In the struggle, the anklets slipped from her fingers—
Vivan lunged forward again, reaching for the anklets.
“Aarvi—”
She stepped back instinctively.
And that’s when it happened.
His foot caught the edge of the rug.
Time slowed.
He lost balance—and before either of them could react, they fell.
Together.
A soft thud.
Vivan landed above her, bracing his weight just in time—his palms on either side of her shoulders, her back pressed into the mattress.
Silence.
Their breaths collided.
They were… too close.
Inches apart.
Aarvi’s chest rose sharply as she inhaled, and she could feel his breath fanning against her lips—warm, uneven. He felt it too. Her breath. Her warmth.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Vivan looked at her.
Really looked.
Soft brown eyes—wide, startled, shimmering with something unreadable. Her face was so close that he could see every detail he had never noticed before. Her long lashes trembling. A tiny mole near her left eye. The faint scar on the bridge of her nose, barely visible but suddenly precious.
And her lips.
Soft. Pink. Slightly parted.
He swallowed.
Aarvi, meanwhile, saw him just as clearly.
The sharp line of his jaw. The stubble shadowing his skin. His straight nose. The furrow between his brows that appeared when he was tense. Strong. Manly. Too close. Far too close.
Her heart hammered.
“Vi… Vivan,” she whispered.
He hummed unconsciously, not breaking eye contact.
“Get—get off,” she said softly, almost breathless.
That broke the spell.
His eyes widened in horror as reality crashed back in.
“I—I am sorry,” he blurted, scrambling up instantly.
He stood there, flustered beyond control, apologising for like the hundredth time since this trip began, a soft pink tint creeping up his cheeks.
Aarvi sat up too, equally flustered, avoiding his gaze as she smoothed her coat and reached for her bag again—anything to ground herself.
Then—
“I… I bought those for you.”
His voice was low. Honest. Nervous.
She froze.
He didn’t wait for a response.
He didn’t lie.
He turned and walked out of the room quickly, disappearing from her sight.
Aarvi stared after him, stunned.
Her gaze dropped to the anklets lying on the bed.
Slowly, she picked them up, the soft chime echoing faintly in the quiet room.
She exhaled a long, shaky sigh—
And placed them carefully inside her bag.
Outside the room, Vivan groaned, dragging a hand through his hair.
“This trip is going to kill me.”
~?~