29 Back To Us #2
The sight immediately brought a mischievous, fond smirk to his face. He shook his head, remembering how vastly different last night had been from everything he had imagined during those miserable months apart. They had found their way back to each other. Finally.
Reaching for his phone on the bedside table, Ansh unlocked the screen. He stared at her name in his contacts for a long moment before tapping out a simple message.
Ansh: Good morning.
Across the city, Niyati's phone buzzed where it lay beside her pillow. She picked it up casually, expecting a group chat notification, but the second her eyes caught the sender's name, her heart gave a sudden leap.
Opening the chat, she read his simple greeting. A quiet, uncontrollable smile spread across her face. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed back:
Niyati: Good morning.
On the other side of the city, Ansh watched the notification pop up. It was just two short words, yet he stared at them as if she had written him an entire letter. Without overthinking it, his thumbs moved rapidly across the screen.
Ansh: Good morning, girlfriend.
He hit send, leaning back against the headboard as he stared at the words glowing on the screen. His eyebrows lifted slightly in self-amusement. He hadn't consciously planned to use that title, but as he looked at it, he realized he wasn't sorry in the slightest.
When the follow-up message buzzed on Niyati's screen, she read the three words and froze. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, her cheeks instantly burning a deep crimson.
"What?!" she gasped aloud, sitting bolt upright in bed.
She stared at the text as though the word itself had personally offended her. Girlfriend? She pressed her lips tightly together, trying desperately to maintain a stern composure, but it was completely futile-a ridiculous, radiant grin took over her face.
Embarrassed by her own flustered reaction, she threw the phone face-down onto her pillow and buried her face in her hands. "He is unbelievable," she muttered.
Her phone buzzed again immediately. Snatched it up, she typed back with hasty indignance:
Niyati: Don't call me that!
Ansh's reply arrived almost instantly.
Ansh: Why?
Niyati stared at her screen, biting her lip. How was she supposed to explain that seeing that word written out made everything feel dangerously real? Too new, yet so painfully familiar all at once. Her fingers moved slowly over the glass.
Niyati: Because it makes me nervous.
There was a brief pause on the other end before the typing indicator reappeared.
Ansh: My girlfriend gets nervous because I call her my girlfriend?
Niyati's jaw dropped in sheer disbelief. "Ugh!" she groaned, furiously tapping out her reply.
Niyati: Shut up, Ansh.
His next response arrived seconds later, dropping the teasing tone entirely.
Ansh: I missed this.
Niyati's defensive posture softened in an instant.
The light teasing, the effortless back-and-forth, the silly arguments, and the subtle way they could make each other smile without even trying-it was everything they had lost.
She stared at those three words for a long moment, a quiet warmth settling over her chest, before typing her confession:
Niyati: Me too.
The playful banter gently settled into a quieter, deeper atmosphere. Ansh sat on the edge of his bed, his phone resting loosely in his palm. There was a lingering question in his mind-something far more crucial than teased endearments. He carefully typed it out.
Ansh: Niyati?
Niyati: Hmm?
He hesitated for a second, taking a steadying breath before sending it.
Ansh: Are you okay?
The lingering smile on Niyati's face slowly faded. She knew exactly what he was asking. He wasn't asking about her sleep, or the ball, or how her morning was going. He was asking about them.
He was asking if she was truly okay with stepping back into his world. She stared at the screen for a long time. She could have given him an easy, comforting lie-a quick 'yes' to pretend that everything was completely healed.
But that wasn't what they owed each other anymore. They had hurt each other deeply, and two months of agonizing silence couldn't be erased by a single night of passion. So, she chose absolute honesty.
Niyati: I'm still scared.
Ansh felt a sudden tightness in his chest when he read her words. But instead of panicking or pulling back, a deep sense of understanding washed over him. He typed out the plain truth:
Ansh: Me too.
Niyati blinked at her screen, taken aback by his immediate vulnerability. Before she could reply, a second text appeared from him.
Ansh: I'm scared I'll lose you again.
Her eyes softened, a quiet tear pricking at the corners of her lashes.
Ansh: But I don't want fear to decide things for us anymore.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Niyati looked down at the glowing screen. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard for a beat before she typed her heart out:
Niyati: I don't want to lose you either.
Ansh leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders.
That was enough. It wasn't a reckless promise that everything would instantly become easy, nor a guarantee that they would never face obstacles again.
It was simply two people admitting their deepest fears-and choosing each other anyway.
His phone buzzed one last time.
Niyati: But seriously, don't call me girlfriend again right now.
A triumphant grin immediately reclaimed Ansh's face.
Ansh: Okay.
A short pause followed before his final text flashed on her screen:
Ansh: Good morning, Niyati. My girlfriend.
Niyati stared at the message in absolute, dramatic disbelief, her face burning all over again. "ANSH!" she yelled to her empty room, tossing her pillow across the floor.
Across town, Ansh's clear, genuine laughter echoed through his quiet bedroom as he imagined her flustered expression.
And there, amidst the residual fear, the uncertainties, and the slow work of unfinished healing, they found the one thing they had both desperately longed for-their old laughter, their effortless teasing, and their true selves. Only this time, they both knew exactly how precious it was to hold onto.
The warden had already made her rounds, and the security guard near the main gate was distracted in conversation with a staff member.
Moving quickly down the stairs and past the common room, she held her breath, slipped through the side gate, and hurried toward the familiar car waiting in the shadows.
Niyati practically jumped into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut behind her. Ansh turned toward her, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. "Mission successful?"
"Don't laugh! I almost died back there," Niyati exhaled dramatically, clutching her chest.
Ansh chuckled, starting the engine. "You were gone for less than five minutes."
"Five very dangerous minutes where my life flashed before my eyes," she retorted, though an irrepressible smile broke across her face.
He shook his head fondly, pulling out into the quiet street. "You are unbelievable."
"And yet you came to pick me up," she teased, leaning back against the leather seat.
"Because apparently I have no self-control when it comes to you," he murmured, his voice laced with a warmth that sent a soft flutter straight to her stomach.
The city looked completely different at that hour. Delhi's usual chaos had softened into quiet avenues, scattered traffic, and glowing amber streetlights.
Ansh drove them to a small, rustic roadside dhaba tucked away from the main stretch.
The place was simple, warm, and practically empty.
Sitting together at a corner table beneath the soft yellow lights, they shared steaming chai and hot paranthas, laughing over silly things and soaking in the rare freedom of being together without looking over their shoulders.
For a few sweet hours, they were simply Ansh and Niyati-no secrets, no heavy history, just them.
When they finally left, it was well past midnight. Ansh turned away from the main road back toward the hostel, taking a quiet side route.
Niyati glanced over at him, her brows pulling together. "Where are we going? This isn't the way back."
"Taking a small detour," he replied smoothly, keeping his eyes on the road.
"At this hour? That sounds deeply suspicious, Ansh."
"It is," he admitted with a low laugh. "You trusted me enough to sneak out of your hostel. I think you can survive a detour."
He eventually brought the car to a stop along a quiet, secluded stretch shaded by sprawling trees, far removed from passing traffic.
The moment Ansh clicked off the engine, the low hum of the car died out, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing filling the dim interior. Ansh unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward her, his dark eyes glittering with a sudden, intense heat that made Niyati's breath hitch.
She didn't hesitate. Driven by weeks of unspoken longing and the thrilling secrecy of the night, Niyati unbuckled her own belt, shifted over the center console, and climbed straight into his lap.
Ansh caught her by the waist with a low, surprised exhale, his hands gripping her hips firmly to pull her flush against his chest. Niyati framed his jaw with both hands, tilting his face up, and crashed her lips onto his.