25 Freshers Ball #4
His head turned slightly toward her.
"What?"
"The ball," she whispered, her voice laced with quiet sincerity. "I said no at first."
Another beat of silence stretched between them.
"I tried to refuse," she continued softly, "but Diya wouldn't let it go."
"I know how ridiculously persuasive your best friend can be," he murmured, his tone remarkably gentle.
A tiny, breathless laugh escaped Niyati. "You have no idea."
"Trust me, I do," he smiled softly, looking at her. "I grew up with her."
Silence settled over them once again, thicker this time.
"I just hope..." Niyati began, her voice barely audible over the chatter of the store, "...you didn't misunderstand."
Ansh looked down at her for a long, quiet moment. And then he offered her a smile-a mature, soft, entirely supportive smile that somehow hurt her far more than anger or sadness ever could.
"I didn't misunderstand anything, Niyati."
"Ansh, I-"
"It's your college life," he interrupted gently, his dark eyes brimming with a quiet, unconditional warmth. "You deserve to experience every bit of it. You deserve to go to the ball and have fun."
Niyati searched his eyes, looking for any trace of bitterness, but found none. "You really mean that?"
"I do," he said quietly.
And he did mean it-or at the very least, he desperately wanted to be the kind of man who could mean it for her sake.
Before she could say another word, Diya's loud voice echoed across the showroom floor. "Niyuuuu! You have to actually pick something up to buy it!"
Startled, Niyati turned around quickly, reaching out and pulling the very first gown her hand touched from the nearest rack-a structured navy-blue dress. "What about this one?"
Diya took one look at it from across the aisle and instantly wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Absolutely not."
Niyati blinked, holding the hanger up. "What? Why?"
"It completely washes you out, Niyati."
"I haven't even tried it on yet!"
"I can tell from ten feet away," Diya declared, marching over and snatching the hanger right out of Niyati's hand.
"Nope. Put it back."
Niyati let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Fine. Then you choose for me. "Gladly!" Diya declared, turning around with the laser focus of a professional stylist to conquer another rack. Niyati and Ansh exchanged a quick, amused glance.
"This is going to take a very long time," Ansh murmured softly under his breath.
"Undoubtedly," Niyati agreed.
Leaving Diya to her mission, Ansh let his gaze wander casually across the boutique's central displays. His eyes moved over metallic silks, bright floral prints, and heavy brocades until suddenly... he stopped.
Near the center of the showroom, standing beneath a warm spotlight, was a mannequin wearing an exquisite midnight-blue evening gown.
The fabric was a rich, liquid silk that subtly shimmered like a clear night sky dusted with microscopic stars.
Its delicate off-shoulder neckline was designed to frame the collarbones with breathtaking elegance, while the fitted bodice tapered seamlessly before flowing down into a soft, cascading floor-length skirt.
It was simple, striking, and entirely timeless.
Without saying a single word, Ansh walked over to the display. Niyati watched him curiously as he reached out, his fingers gently lifting the gown hanger from the rack, before he turned around to hold it up.
Just then, Diya came bustling back with three different dresses in her arms.
"Bhai! Look what I found-" She stopped dead in her tracks mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she took in the dress in her brother's hands. A massive, knowing grin instantly broke across her face. "Oh my God."
She hurried over, inspecting the fabric. "Bhai... that is absolutely breathtaking."
Ansh looked at the dress once, his fingers brushing over the soft midnight-blue fabric, before he slowly turned his gaze to Niyati. "I don't know..." he admitted quietly, his voice dropping an octave, "...but I think this would look beautiful on you."
Niyati stared at the gown in his hands. It was stunning-refined, delicate, and elegant without trying too hard. It was, in truth, the exact kind of dress she would have chosen for herself... if she had possessed the courage to seek it out.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze from the shimmering fabric to meet his. Ansh was already looking at her, his expression soft, open, and intensely quiet.
For a long, unbroken moment, neither of them moved or spoke.
The bustling boutique around them seemed to fade into a muted, background blur.
The other shoppers, the background music, Diya's presence-everything dissolved until there were only two people looking at each other across the deep, midnight-blue silk of a ball gown.
And somehow, without a single word voiced between them, both of their hearts acknowledged the devastating truth: if circumstances had been different, if life had been kinder, if their love hadn't been interrupted by timing and distance...
this was the exact dress he would have lovingly chosen for the girl walking into the ball on his arm.