CHAPTER 24
ARYAN
The car feels quieter than usual. Not because there’s no sound—the engine hums softly, the road stretches ahead, the faint rhythm of music still lingers in the background—but because she is quiet. And not her usual irritated, thinking, judging silence. This is different. Still. Almost…distant.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye.
She’s looking out the window, chin slightly tilted, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the moving traffic like she’s trying to stay there instead of here. And for a second, I consider leaving it alone.
But I don’t do quiet. And I definitely don’t do awkward. So I turn the music down. “So,” I begin casually, tapping the steering wheel once, “what’s your favorite color?”
She turns her head slowly and blinks at me like I just asked her the meaning of life.
“Excuse me?” she asks.
I shrug, keeping my eyes on the road. “It’s going to be a long ride. Thought we could get to know each other a bit.”
She stares at me for a second longer, then shakes her head. “Oh no. We are not doing that.”
I gasp, actually offended. “Come on, Ishika. We are friends.”
“I definitely regret that,” she mutters under her breath.
I grin. “No taksie backsies.”
She narrows her eyes immediately. “Did you just—”
I raise a hand slightly in defense, smiling sheepishly. “My niece. I promise. I don’t use that language voluntarily.”
Her lips twitch. And then—She chuckles. It’s small. Brief. But it’s there. I mentally do a full victory dance and make a note to thank Rudrani later.
She exhales like she’s already tired of me. “I like white,” she answers finally, almost reluctantly. “You?”
“Brown,” I reply without thinking.
She glances at me again, a little surprised at how fast that answer came.
I don’t explain it.
I don’t tell her it’s because of the exact shade of her eyes. The way they catch light differently depending on her mood. The way they soften when she laughs and sharpen when she’s annoyed.
Yeah, not saying that out loud.
“You have a niece?” she asks after a moment.
I smile without realizing it. “Yeah. Rudrani. You might love her.”
“Why?” she asks, skeptical.
“Because she’s mean,” I say simply, glancing at her. “You’re both mean to me.” I pout slightly for effect.
She chuckles again, shaking her head. “In that case, I might.”
I grin. “What about you?” I ask. “Any tiny humans in your life who terrorize you?”
Her smile fades. Not dramatically. Just…quietly.
“None,” she says, shrugging lightly. I hum.
Wrong question.
I can feel it immediately—the shift in her. The way her shoulders stiffen just a little, the way her gaze drops for a second before she looks back out the window.
I hate that. Before I can change the topic, she speaks again. “When I said I have no one…” she says, turning slightly toward me, a small smile on her lips that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I meant no one.”
She shrugs like it’s nothing. Like it’s just a fact. Something in my chest tightens. “That’s bullshit,” I say, sharper than I intend. She looks at me, surprised. “You have me now,” I add, softer this time, glancing at her with a small grin.
Her expression shifts again. Confused. Amused. Guarded.
“Maybe,” she says, a hint of a smile returning. “You’re very irritating though.”
I smile. “Keep the compliments coming, Sunshine. I love them.”
She glares at me—but there’s a smile tugging at her lips. And a laugh bursts out of me. “Favorite food?” I ask, deciding to keep her talking.
She hums thoughtfully, her lips forming a slight pout as she thinks. And I swear to God, that expression alone should be illegal. “It has to be Maggi,” she says finally. “I eat it almost every day and I’m still not bored.”
I nearly slam the brakes. “Maggi every day?” I stare at her. “That’s not an acceptable diet, Ms. Vyas.”
She laughs, leaning back in her seat. “I know basic cooking. I just don’t like doing it.”
“That’s it,” I shake my head. “I will bring your lunch and dinner from now on.”
She turns to me immediately. “No. There’s no need—”
“Not open for negotiation,” I cut her off. “You may scare me, but I’m not backing down on this.”
I glance at her quickly, expecting resistance. Instead, she surprises me. “I’d appreciate that, Mr. Khanna,” she says, her voice softer. “But only thrice a week.”
I blink. Then raise my hand in surrender before she changes her mind. “Deal.” I return both hands to the steering wheel, a small smile settling on my face.
“So,” She asks after a moment, “what’s your story?” She turns to me slowly, narrowing her eyes. “How are you so cocky and confident and…just you?”
I laugh. “Wow. You really know how to flatter me.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “Confidence probably comes from my father,” I say, my voice softening without me planning it. “He was…something else. I’ve never seen anyone so full of himself.”
I chuckle at the memory. “My mom used to roll her eyes every time he spoke.”
She smiles faintly.
“He passed away a few years ago,” I add, glancing at her briefly.
Her expression softens immediately. “I’m sorry.”
I nod once. “Cocky is just…a shield,” I add lightly, winking. “But you can ask anything. I’ll answer honestly.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”
“The offer ends today,” I grin.
She hums. “How many siblings?”
“Two. Older brother, younger sister. I’m the middle child.” She nods.
“Why do you listen to Christmas music?”
I chuckle. “It’s fun. Reminds me of home. My dad had a whole playlist. Forced us to listen every December.” She smiles at that.
“Are you a texter or a caller?” She fumbles with her purse.
“Neither,” I say. “I prefer meeting people.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “We are very different.”
I laugh. “If you could look into your past or future, which one would you choose?”
“Future,” I say without hesitation. “I already know the past.”
I glance at her. “You?”
“Past,” she says quietly.
I want to ask why. I really do. But she doesn’t give me the chance. “If you could change something about yourself?”
“Green eyes,” I say.
She gasps. “That’s the last thing you should change,” she says immediately. “You have beautiful eyes.”
My lips stretches into a wide grin which she clearly notices and rolls her eyes. “Oh no,” she mutters. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I laugh.
“Don’t,” she warns.
“Why would I?” I tease.
She sighs. “Why do you want to change them?”
“Got bullied in school,” I shrug. “People called me matar.” I laugh humorlessly at the memory. They were some rough years. Until Rudraksh punched one of those guys and Shivansh poured cold water on them one day and I don’t think I ever left their side, so in a way I am thankful too.
Her face scrunches up. “What the fuck?”
I laugh. “I hate people,” she mutters.
“I gathered.”
“Favorite season?” she asks.
“Summer.”
She gasps. “Finally! Someone who likes summer.” I grin, seeing her child-like reaction.
“Why do you like it?” she asks.
“It’s warm,” I shrug. “I can’t deal with the cold.”
She nods quickly. “Same. And I can eat ice cream without thinking.” I chuckle. I am not sure if I should find her adorable or be extremely worried about her nutrition from all the information I have about her food habits. The GPS chimes softly.
Thirty minutes left. “Your birthday?” she asks.
“Fifteenth December.”
“Twenty five January,” she replies.
I nod. “I’m out of questions,” she says finally, leaning back in her seat.
I exhale dramatically. “Finally. I thought that was never going to end.”
She laughs. “My turn,” I say immediately.
“Nope,” she says just as quickly.
“That’s not fair.”
She shrugs, smiling. And I glance at her, shaking my head, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. Yeah. This is going to be a long ride. But a fun ride.