6
The house was wrapped in the quiet stillness of two in the morning. The only sounds in the dimly lit kitchen were the soft bubbling of water in the steel saucepan and the rhythmic swish of a damp cloth over the granite countertops.
Adhira sat cross-legged on the island counter, a comfortable perch she had claimed since childhood.
She was wrapped in an oversized hoodie, kicking her heels gently against the cabinets.
Her mother stood near the stove, tossing a crushed cardamom pod into the brewing tea, perfectly content to be the audience to her daughter's late-night venting session.
"I swear to God, Ma, Professor Mehta actively enjoys making us suffer," Adhira groaned, throwing her head back against the cupboard.
"He gave us a project that requires at least three weeks of data parsing, and he wants it by Monday.
Monday! It is physically impossible to write that much logic without the compiler crashing. "
"Drink your water, beta," her mother hummed softly, not looking up from the stove.
"I mean, I was literally ready to throw my laptop out the third-floor window," Adhira continued, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke.
"But then Shreyash looked at it... and it was honestly ridiculous.
He didn't even touch the keyboard. He just pointed at one line of code and told me my boolean logic was inverted. One line!"
Her mother smiled faintly, wiping down the tiles. "He is a smart boy."
"He's a freak of nature," Adhira corrected, though there was zero bite in her tone.
In fact, her voice grew distinctly lighter, carrying a breathless, bubbly energy that she didn't even seem to notice.
"I told him his brain belongs in a museum, and you know what he did?
He literally choked on his water. He got so flustered his ears went completely red, and he couldn't even look at me for ten minutes. It was the funniest thing."
Adhira shifted on the counter, unconsciously grabbing a loose strand of her dark hair and twirling it around her index finger.
"And he is so weirdly observant, Ma," she went on, a soft, fond smile breaking across her face.
"You know how I always forget to drink my coffee when I'm stressed?
Today, he just quietly pushed a fresh iced coffee across the table right when I hit a wall with my assignment.
He didn't even ask. He just remembered I prefer it cold.
And when I thanked him, he did that thing where he tries to hide his smile, but he can't, so his dimples just pop out anyway... "
The swishing sound of the damp cloth came to a sudden halt.
Her mother stood perfectly still at the stove. The tea was boiling rapidly, the fragrant brown liquid rising dangerously close to the rim of the pan, but she didn't turn the burner down immediately. Instead, she slowly turned her head to look at her daughter.
Adhira was staring blankly at the opposite wall, her eyes completely glazed over with a bright, unconscious glow. She was still twirling that lock of hair around her finger, a dreamy, hopelessly soft smile resting on her lips.
Her mother's mind raced, connecting the scattered dots of the past few weeks. She thought about the sheer volume of times the phrase "Shreyash said" had echoed through the house lately. Shreyash said this... Shreyash did that... Shreyash thinks...
Adhira, the girl who kept a titanium fortress around her heart. Adhira, who refused to let boys sit next to her in the cafeteria. Adhira, who was practically allergic to male attention and scrutinized every single guy with brutal suspicion.
She was completely, profoundly, head over heels in love. And the poor, stubborn girl didn't even have the slightest clue.
A deep, warm wave of motherly affection washed over her. She looked at her daughter, so fierce and yet so beautifully vulnerable in this absolute state of denial.
"Ma? The tea," Adhira blinked, snapping out of her daze and pointing frantically at the stove.
"Ah, yes," her mother murmured, quickly turning the dial down. The tea settled back into the pan with a soft hiss.
She picked up the strainer and two ceramic mugs, pouring the steaming liquid carefully.
A quiet, knowing smile bloomed on her face, entirely hidden from Adhira's view.
If her fiercely guarded daughter wasn't going to realize her own feelings anytime soon, she was going to need a gentle push.
And Ayan's best friend... this quiet, respectful boy with the dimples...
seemed like exactly the kind of boy worth pushing her toward.
But before that, she still needed to take a look, and make sure this boy was just as her daughter said.
"You know, Adhi," her mother said casually, turning around and handing a warm mug to her daughter. "Ayan has been studying so hard lately. And his friends are always helping him out. It feels rude that we haven't properly hosted them."
Adhira took a sip of the hot tea, completely oblivious to the trap being set. "Yeah, I guess."
"I think I'll make biryani this weekend," her mother continued smoothly, her eyes glinting with a soft, mischievous light. "Tell your brother to invite his close friends over for a casual family dinner. All of them. Including Shreyash."