30
The next morning crept in quietly, with the soft gray of Edinburgh's skies seeping through the sheer curtains of the hotel room. The rain had not stopped through the night; instead, it had softened into a misty drizzle that painted the glass with tiny rivulets.
Vaani stirred awake slowly, blinking against the soft light. For a moment, she lay still, adjusting to the unfamiliar quiet of the hotel room. Then, almost instinctively, her gaze shifted to the other side of the bed.
Dhruv was still asleep.
He was turned slightly to one side, his arm curled close to his chest, his breathing steady and even.
His face, often so composed and reserved when awake, seemed lighter in sleep—relaxed, almost boyish.
He looked comfortable, deeply settled into his rest, as if the fatigue of travel had finally given him permission to loosen the grip he usually kept on himself.
Vaani found herself smiling before she realized it.
It wasn't a wide grin, just the kind of small, involuntary curve of lips that came when a moment felt quietly warm.
She didn't linger on the thought, though—quickly rolling onto her side and slipping out of bed, careful not to make noise that might wake him.
Padding softly across the carpet, she grabbed her toiletries and disappeared into the bathroom.
The hot shower was refreshing, the steam filling the small space and fogging up the mirror.
She let herself take her time—washing her hair, savoring the warmth against her skin after the lingering chill from yesterday's walk in the rain.
When she came out, wrapped in a soft sweater and jeans, hair damp but towel-dried, Dhruv was still sleeping soundly. His position hadn't changed much, and it made her chuckle silently—he really was out cold.
Not wanting to disturb him, she slipped toward the balcony. The glass doors creaked faintly as she slid them open, and the cool air hit her face immediately, sharp and refreshing.
Edinburgh stretched out below her, painted in muted tones by the rain.
The rooftops glistened, the streets gleamed dark and slick, and the spire of a distant church pierced the gray sky.
Despite the overcast, the city had a beauty to it—timeless, almost melancholic, like it had learned to wear the rain as part of its skin.
Vaani reached instinctively for her phone, framing the view within her screen. She tapped the shutter a few times, taking wide shots, close shots, even a short video clip of the rain pattering against the rail. It was beautiful, and she couldn't wait to post it later.
Just then, her phone buzzed in her hand. Vedant.
Her lips curved into a bigger smile as she answered immediately.
"Hello?"
"Tai!" Vedant's cheerful voice filled the speaker, followed by a jumble of background noises—voices, clinking cups, the bustle of home.
Vaani laughed softly. "Arrey, Vedant! What's up?"
Her mother's voice cut in warmly. "Vaani beta, good morning! We were just talking about you."
"Good morning, Ma," Vaani replied, her tone softening. "Look at this view!"
And with that, she flipped the camera to show the view from the balcony. The drizzle was still falling, rooftops and stone buildings stretching endlessly.
"Wah!" her father's voice chimed in from the background. "That looks beautiful. Edinburgh, haan? You've started your trip properly."
"Yes, Baba," she said, smiling. "It's even prettier in real life. Yesterday we walked so much, saw the castle... I took like a hundred pictures."
Vihaan chuckled from behind. "Of course you did. Your Instagram is exploding already."
"Shut up," she teased, rolling her eyes but grinning all the same.
Sunita, curious as always, asked, "And where is Dhruv? He isn't free?"
Vaani turned the camera back to her face, lowering her voice a little. "He's still sleeping, Aai. It was tiring yesterday. A long flight and then a whole day of walking."
Her mother chuckled knowingly. "Good, let him sleep. Don't trouble him early morning."
"I'm not," Vaani said quickly, as if to defend herself, though no one had accused her. She glanced back inside the room through the glass doors, watching Dhruv still curled peacefully under the blanket.
Her mother's voice softened, "So tell me—how was your first day? Did you both enjoy?"
Vaani leaned against the balcony railing, letting the drizzle mist her skin as she spoke.
"It was nice, Aai. We went to the castle—it was so grand, so old, it almost felt unreal.
And then we roamed around, saw the streets, the cafes.
I took a lot of pictures, obviously. Oh—and we had this amazing dessert, Aai, you would've loved it.
Rich chocolate, the kind that just melts in your mouth. "
As she spoke, she realized how easily the words came, how much she wanted to share. Maybe because telling her family made the experiences feel fuller, more real.
Vihaan's amused voice cut in, "And Jiju? Did he enjoy the dessert or did you finish it all?"
Vaani froze for a second before laughing awkwardly. "He... he had a little. I may have eaten most of it without realizing."
Vedant burst into laughter. "Classic Tai."
Her cheeks warmed, though she chuckled along. "What can I say? It was really good."
Her mom's voice grew curious again, "And how is Dhruv settling in? He's quiet, isn't he?"
Vaani glanced back at the bed again, her voice softer this time. "Yeah... he doesn't talk much. But he... notices things. Takes care of stuff without saying anything. Like at the airport, I didn't even realize when he handled everything. I just... followed. It's strange, but kind of nice."
Sunita hummed knowingly, but didn't push further. "Good, good. You'll both adjust. Just enjoy the time there, beta."
Vaani nodded, her smile small but content. "I will, Aai. Don't worry."
The call carried on for a while longer—Vedant cracking jokes, her dad asking for pictures, her mom reminding her to eat properly. Eventually, with promises to call again soon, Vaani ended the call and slipped her phone back into her pocket.
The rain had eased slightly, turning into a fine mist. She stood there a moment longer, watching the city, before her gaze wandered back inside again.
Dhruv hadn't moved. He was still fast asleep, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Something about the sight made her pause—how deeply he slept, how comfortable he looked.
Her lips curved again, unbidden.
And quietly, without making a sound, she slid the balcony door shut and padded back inside, letting him rest a little longer.
~·~
The room was hushed except for the faint patter of the drizzle against the balcony glass.
Dhruv stirred awake, blinking into the soft gray light that filtered through the curtains.
For a second, he lay still, adjusting, his mind catching up to the unfamiliar hotel room.
He turned his head slightly and noticed the other side of the bed empty. Vaani was already up.
With a faint sigh, he sat up, ran a hand through his hair, and reached for his phone on the bedside table. A few notifications blinked, but he didn't linger on them. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, slipped into his slippers, and padded toward the bathroom.
The shower was brisk, hot water loosening the sleep from his body. He dressed quickly afterward, pulling on a dark sweatshirt and a pair of jeans—comfortable enough for travel but warm enough for the Edinburgh chill. Toweling his hair lightly, he finally stepped out.
His eyes immediately found her.
Vaani was seated on the balcony chair, facing the city.
Her back was straight but relaxed, hair falling loosely as she held her phone in one hand, perhaps taking pictures or simply scrolling.
The gray light fell softly on her, making her sweater look even cozier.
She looked comfortable, at ease in the quiet moment.
Dhruv hesitated a beat, then walked forward. He pushed the balcony door open with a faint creak.
Vaani turned her head immediately, startled just slightly. Her lips curved into a small smile.
"Oh, tumhi uthla." (You're up?)
"Yep," Dhruv replied, his voice even, almost carrying that faint morning huskiness.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked, eyes flicking over him briefly as though to check if he looked rested.
"I did," he said simply. "Did you?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I did."
For a moment, the silence lingered, not entirely uncomfortable but certainly lined with the faint awkwardness that came when two people weren't sure how much to say. Dhruv's gaze drifted outward toward the misty rooftops. She followed his gaze, but neither said anything more.
Then Dhruv spoke, cutting through gently. "You're ready."
She nodded again, tugging her sweater slightly. "Mm-hmm."
"Let's go get breakfast then," he said, matter-of-fact.
"Okay," she agreed softly, rising from the chair.
They left the room, walking down the quiet hallways and eventually to the breakfast area of the hotel.
It was warm inside, bustling faintly with the low murmur of other travelers.
The smell of coffee, toast, and fresh pastries drifted around them.
They picked a small corner table, and soon plates of food sat in front of them—toast, eggs, fruit, and a steaming pot of tea.
For a while, they ate quietly. Vaani sipped at her tea, the warmth soothing, before finally breaking the silence. "What's on the list today?"
Dhruv pulled out his phone, scrolling briefly through the itinerary he had saved. His eyes skimmed over it with the kind of precision that came naturally to him. "Today's Inverness," he said after a moment, placing the phone down.
Her eyes lit up instantly. "Oh my god, Inverness!" The words came out brighter, lighter than she intended. "That's like...the heart of the Highlands. I've seen so many pictures, it's supposed to be breathtaking!"
She caught herself then, realizing she was practically bubbling. Glancing at Dhruv, who was calmly buttering his toast without much visible reaction, she quickly reined herself in. Clearing her throat, she lowered her tone, the smile fading a little. "Sorry."
Dhruv looked up at her then, the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. He wasn't mocking, simply observing. "It does sound exciting," he said simply, the corners of his mouth just tugging upward for a second.
That eased her a little, though she still kept her voice more measured as they carried on eating. He didn't push, and she didn't ramble, though inside she was brimming with anticipation. Inverness. The Highlands. The kind of place she had dreamed of photographing for years.
They finished their breakfast, gathering their coats and heading toward the lobby. The rain had eased into a fine drizzle, and the day stretched ahead with the promise of travel and new sights.
As they walked toward the door, Dhruv suddenly spoke, his tone even but deliberate. "Vaani."
She turned immediately, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Yeah?"
He looked at her directly, his expression unreadable at first, though his words carried a quiet clarity. "You don't have to kill your excitement when you talk to me."
For a second, she froze, caught off guard. The words hit gently but squarely, like he'd noticed more than she thought.
Her lips parted slightly, but nothing came out immediately. She simply looked at him, the drizzle outside blurring faintly behind his frame.
He didn't add more, didn't elaborate, just waited with that calm composure of his.
And for once, Vaani didn't rush to fill the silence. She only held his gaze, unsure what to say, but strangely warmed by the fact that he had noticed, and that he cared enough to tell her.
~·~
The journey to Inverness began with the soft rumble of the train easing out of Waverley Station in Edinburgh.
Vaani had claimed the window seat almost immediately, her camera bag resting on her lap, eyes wide with a childlike eagerness that Dhruv didn't miss.
The train moved smoothly, cutting past the outskirts of the city, where buildings slowly gave way to stretches of green, rolling hills glistening with rain.
She pressed closer to the glass, her breath fogging it faintly. "Oh my god," she whispered, not even to him, just to herself. "This is insane."
Dhruv glanced at her from where he sat beside her.
He had placed his backpack neatly at his feet and was now sitting back, arms relaxed on the armrest, gaze alternating between his phone and the passing scenery.
Her energy was contained but bubbling, like she wanted to squeal but remembered someone else was right there.
"Doesn't it look like a painting?" she asked suddenly, turning to him.
He followed her gaze outside. The rain had left the grass a deep emerald, the clouds hanging low and heavy over the distant hills. The sky was silver, streaked with patches of lighter gray. "It does," he admitted.
She smiled, satisfied with his agreement, and immediately lifted her phone. She snapped a few pictures, adjusted the angle, leaned back, then clicked more. Dhruv watched her out of the corner of his eye, amused at the dedication with which she was trying to capture every angle.
"You're going to run out of storage by the end of this trip," he said mildly.
"I bought extra iCloud storage last month just for this trip," she replied instantly, not even looking at him, eyes glued to her screen. Then she glanced up and chuckled at his faintly surprised expression. "What? Priorities."
Dhruv shook his head, lips twitching with the smallest ghost of a smile. "Clearly."
The train curved along a wide bend, and suddenly the landscape opened up into a vast expanse of water, shimmering beneath the overcast sky. Vaani gasped. "Oh wow, is that a loch already?"
He leaned slightly to look past her shoulder. "Not sure. Could be Firth of Forth still, or one of the smaller lochs along the way."
Her eyes sparkled. "Still counts! I mean, just look at it." She lifted her phone again, but after a moment she lowered it and simply stared. "Sometimes it feels like the picture will never match what your eyes see."
That, Dhruv thought, was perhaps the truest thing she had said since morning. He didn't reply, but he looked at her a little longer than he intended before returning his gaze to the scenery.
The train rattled gently as it sped further into the Highlands. Mountains started to rise in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist. Sheep dotted the rolling meadows, and small stone cottages with smoke curling from their chimneys passed by in fleeting glimpses.
Vaani let out a soft laugh to herself. "You know, I used to read about the Highlands in books and imagine what it would look like. I thought it was exaggerated. But it's not. It's better."
"You've read a lot of travel books?" he asked casually, more to keep the conversation alive than curiosity.
"Not just travel books," she said, turning her head toward him for the first time in a while. "Novels too. Especially ones set in Europe. I'd underline the descriptions and imagine myself there."
Dhruv nodded, not interrupting.
"And now I'm actually here." Her voice dropped a little, as though the realization was still sinking in. She gave a small smile, almost shy, then turned back to the window. "It feels...unreal."
For a few minutes, silence stretched comfortably between them. The steady rhythm of the train was almost lulling, broken only by the occasional announcement over the speaker. Vaani's reflection in the glass showed her leaning her chin against her hand, utterly lost in the landscape.
She spoke again, softer this time. "Do you travel a lot?"
Dhruv turned his head toward her. "Used to, for work, yes."
"And for fun?"
He paused, considering. "Not really."
"Why not?" she asked without looking at him, her voice curious but not intrusive.
"I don't plan vacations," he said simply.
She frowned at the glass. "That's kind of sad."
He raised an eyebrow. "Sad?"
"Yeah. I mean...you work so hard, you don't take time for yourself?" She finally looked at him, her brows slightly drawn. "Traveling isn't just sightseeing. It's breathing, you know? Letting yourself pause."
Dhruv tilted his head, studying her earnestness. She believed it deeply, that much was clear. "And you?" he asked. "You always make time?"
She laughed lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Always. Even if it means budgeting tightly or cutting back on other things. My friends used to joke that I'd give up shopping for new clothes just to afford a trip somewhere. They weren't wrong."
That made him chuckle, low and brief, but genuine.
The train slowed slightly as it passed a particularly scenic stretch—a valley with a small stream winding through it, the water catching glimmers of light. Vaani was practically glued to the window again, eyes shining.
"Imagine living here," she whispered. "Waking up to this every day."
"Would you?" he asked, curious.
She hummed. "Maybe. But then again, I'd miss the buzz of a city too much. I think I'd like to just come here often, not stay forever."
That answer, Dhruv thought, sounded exactly like her—rooted in both wanderlust and practicality.
After a while, the food cart rolled by, clinking gently. Dhruv glanced at her. "Tea?"
Her face brightened instantly. "Yes, please."
He ordered for both of them, passing her the steaming paper cup. She cradled it with both hands, inhaling the warmth. "This feels perfect," she said. "Rain outside, tea in hand, mountains in view. It's like the universe knows how to set the mood."
Dhruv leaned back in his seat, his own cup in hand, watching her instead of the scenery for a moment. She was radiant in her simplicity, her joy not forced but flowing, filling the air between them.
And as the train thundered deeper into the Highlands, he realized her excitement wasn't draining—it was infectious.
~·~
The train pulled into Inverness as the afternoon light spilled across the Highlands.
The clouds had broken apart, leaving shafts of sunlight pouring through onto the hills.
The landscape felt like something painted—green upon green, vast mountains looming in the distance with their peaks still cloaked in fog, the wide expanse of the River Ness gleaming silver as it wound lazily through the valley.
The air was crisp when they stepped out, fresher than anything Vaani had ever breathed in London or Oxford, and it made her pull her cardigan closer as she smiled unconsciously.
"Wow," she whispered as she looked around, her phone already in her hand, capturing the wide view.
Dhruv followed silently, one hand in his jacket pocket, watching her pace a little ahead, moving as though she couldn't drink enough of the scene.
The town itself, with its cobbled streets, stone bridges arched over the river, and quaint old houses lined up neatly, looked like something carved out of history.
"Dhruv, look at this!" she exclaimed suddenly, pointing at the distant mountains. "Don't they look like they're straight out of a fantasy film? Like...Lord of the Rings or something."
He followed her finger, gazing at the hazy blue ridges stacked one behind the other. "They do," he admitted, his tone calm, but his eyes lingered longer than usual.
Vaani crouched a little, angled her phone upward, and snapped more pictures.
Then she twirled around to get the bridge in the shot behind her.
Dhruv found himself watching the way she framed everything carefully, adjusting until she was satisfied.
She wasn't careless about it, even though it was just "fun" for her.
There was precision in how she viewed things.
"You're going to exhaust your camera battery by sunset," he said dryly.
She looked up at him with a grin. "Totally worth it."
For a while, they walked along the riverbank.
The water rushed below, its surface broken by patches of light where the sun struck directly.
Families strolled around them, some tourists with backpacks like theirs, others locals chatting in easy tones.
The occasional bagpiper could be heard faintly from one corner, the sound rising and fading in the wind.
At one point, Vaani stopped and turned to him. "Do you want a picture?"
He blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Me?"
She tilted her head. "Yeah, you. You're here too, na."
He hesitated, then smirked faintly. "Stand there. I'll take a picture of you first."
She pointed at herself, eyebrows raising. "Me?"
Dhruv arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Is there someone else here called Vaani?"
Her lips parted, and she gave a sheepish little laugh. "Fine." She walked a few steps forward and stood by the railing of the bridge, posing a little awkwardly at first, then softening into a natural smile when she turned to the view.
Dhruv lifted his phone and, without saying much, snapped a series of shots. He adjusted slightly, changing angles, capturing the sunlight spilling onto her hair, the way her cardigan fluttered in the light breeze.
When he handed her the phone, she eagerly swiped through the pictures. Her face lit up. "These are so good! I love these." She looked up at him with delight. "These are definitely going on my Instagram."
His lips curved slightly in a restrained chuckle. "Glad they meet your standards."
"They more than meet my standards," she said, still scrolling. "Dhruv, you've got an eye! Maybe you missed your calling."
He gave a low hum of amusement but didn't respond directly, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
Then she looked at him, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Okay, your turn. Go stand there."
He shook his head almost instantly. "I'm good."
"Dhruv," she said, dragging out his name in mock exasperation. "Come on. Please?"
He sighed, his expression resigned, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a faint twitch upward. "Fine."
She grinned, triumphant. He walked toward the railing, standing where she had been earlier.
Vaani lifted her phone and squinted through the screen, adjusting until she got the framing right.
She snapped a few, then a few more, trying different angles without realizing how carefully she was observing him.
Through the camera, he looked almost different—more approachable, less reserved.
His features were strong, defined, his stance calm yet grounded.
For a second, she forgot to press the shutter, caught up in the way he fit so effortlessly into the backdrop of misty mountains and sunlit water. He's so handsome, she thought.
"You done?" his voice broke her little trance, carrying over the distance.
She jolted, flushing slightly. "Huh? Yeah—yes, I'm done." She lowered the phone quickly and busied herself with checking the gallery, hoping he hadn't noticed the pause.
When he returned, she handed him the phone. "See? These are good."
He scrolled through them, nodding once. "They're good."
She smiled, not just at the pictures but at the fact that he didn't dismiss them or brush them off.
They continued their walk, the cobbled streets winding uphill, each turn revealing more postcard-worthy sights—tiny bookshops with ivy creeping up their walls, cafés with steaming cups lined by the window, the air filled with the faint scent of baked bread.
Vaani clicked here and there, sometimes forgetting to check if he was keeping pace, while Dhruv stayed quietly beside her, his gaze flickering between the scenery and her reactions.
Every time she gasped softly at a new sight or whispered "wow" under her breath, he found himself glancing at her rather than what she was looking at.
And though he never said it aloud, there was something undeniably infectious in the way she carried her excitement—not loud, not obnoxious, just genuine, like each detail mattered to her.
By the time they reached the town square, the sun had shifted again, casting golden light on the stone buildings. Vaani tucked her phone away for once and just looked around, arms folded lightly, soaking it in.
"This place feels like it belongs in another century," she murmured.
Dhruv stood beside her, his own phone silent in his pocket this time, and simply nodded. He understood what she meant.
And as they walked further into the heart of Inverness, both with slightly different rhythms—hers buzzing with curiosity, his steadier but quietly attuned—something unspoken settled between them. A comfort.
~·~
The little café they'd found in Inverness was cozy, tucked on the corner of a cobbled street.
The walls were lined with warm wooden panels, old photographs of the Highlands framed neatly, and a faint smell of coffee and soup lingered in the air.
The rain had started again, softly tapping against the windowpanes, and Vaani had chosen a seat by the glass, her cardigan pulled snug around her shoulders as she leaned slightly to look outside.
They'd ordered lunch—something simple, soup and sandwiches, and a slice of cake Vaani had insisted on trying—and by the time their food arrived, both had settled into a quiet comfort.
She sipped her soup slowly, eyes still flitting to the drizzle outside, while Dhruv scrolled briefly through his phone.
Just as he lifted his sandwich, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—Maa flashing across—and pressed answer.
"Hello, Maa," Dhruv said, his voice softening a little, the way it always did when he spoke to his parents.
On the other end, Jaya's voice immediately filled the line, warm and lively. "Dhruv! How are you? How is Scotland?"
"It's good, Maa. We reached Inverness today," he replied, settling the phone on the table, angled so she could see him.
Before his mother could ask more, her voice brightened suddenly, "Where is Vaani?"
Dhruv looked up from his plate toward her. She had just taken a bite of her sandwich and froze mid-chew when she realized, eyes widening slightly. He tilted his head toward the phone, a small gesture.
Vaani quickly put down her fork, dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and leaned in toward the frame with an easy smile. "Hi, Maa! How are you?"
Jaya's eyes lit up on the screen. "Arre, Vaani! We're doing good, beta. I saw your photos that you sent. They were so good! Scotland looks so beautiful."
Vaani's face warmed, both at the compliment and at the fact that Dhruv's mom was following her posts. "Yes, Maa. It's even more beautiful in real life. I'm loving it here—the mountains, the little streets, everything. It feels like a painting."
Jaya chuckled. "I can see that. The smile on your face tells it all."
Vaani laughed lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She went on talking, telling his mom about their walk by the river, the castle yesterday, the café they were sitting in now.
Dhruv, meanwhile, rested his chin on his hand, just watching them.
Jaya's fond expression, Vaani's animated face as she spoke—there was a softness in the exchange that he didn't interrupt.
After a few minutes, Vaani noticed him watching quietly, his food forgotten, his gaze steady on her. She faltered just slightly, then smiled at the screen again. "Acha, Maa, I'll speak to you soon, okay? You take care."
"Take care, beta," Jaya said warmly before the call shifted back fully to Dhruv.
He took the phone, nodding at Vaani as if to say I'll handle the rest. Then he gestured toward the counter with his other hand, silently telling her he'd go pay the check. She nodded, turning her gaze back out the window, while he stood and walked to the front.
The rain was heavier now, streaks running down the glass, and the café filled with the muted sound of it. As Dhruv handed his card to the cashier, his mother's voice continued.
"So," she said softly, "how is married life going?"
Dhruv paused for a second, eyes lowering, before answering simply, "It's alright."
"Just alright?" Jaya's tone carried a smile, but also a nudge.
He sighed lightly, sliding his card back into his wallet. "Maa, it's only been a month. We need time."
There was a small pause on her end, then a gentle laugh. "I know, beta. But Vaani is a good girl. You'll see—you'll get comfortable with each other."
His jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded, keeping his tone even. "I know. I'll call you soon, Maa."
"Alright," she said warmly, "enjoy the rest of your day. Take care of her."
With that, the call ended, and Dhruv slipped his phone back into his pocket. He picked up the receipt and turned, his eyes automatically seeking her.
There she was, sitting by the window, her elbow propped lightly on the table, her chin resting in her palm.
She wasn't scrolling her phone or fidgeting, just gazing out at the rainy street.
Her lips curved into a faint smile, almost absent-minded, as though the simple sight of raindrops streaking against the glass and people rushing by with umbrellas was enough to make her happy.
For a second, Dhruv simply stopped, standing there with the receipt in his hand. She looked utterly at peace, as though she belonged in that frame—the gray sky, the golden light of the café against her, and that quiet smile.
Something in his chest shifted, subtle but noticeable. He took a slow breath, then walked back toward the table, careful not to disturb her small moment of contentment.
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