Date: September 15, 2013
Location: Outskirts of Shamshabad, Hyderabad
The silver Maruti Swift cruised smoothly down a quiet, half-finished layout project located a few kilometers behind the Shamshabad estate. The wide, unpaved gravel paths were completely abandoned, bordered by stray bushes and entirely devoid of any city traffic.
Siddanth was behind the wheel, steering comfortably with one hand while the radio played a soft Bollywood melody. Krithika sat in the passenger seat, enjoying the warm afternoon breeze blowing through her slightly open window.
"Siddu," Krithika said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
"Yeah?" Siddanth replied, keeping his eyes on the dusty road ahead.
"Will you teach me how to drive?"
Siddanth slowed the car down slightly. He turned his head to look at her, raising his eyebrows in genuine surprise. "You want to learn how to drive?"
Krithika nodded firmly. "Yes. I have my learner's license, but the only thing I've ever driven is my Scooty. I want to learn how to drive a car."
Siddanth looked at her determined expression, then looked back out at the empty, perfectly safe dirt road stretching out ahead of them. It was, in theory, the safest place in the entire state of Telangana to learn how to drive.
He thought about it for a few seconds. A slow, amused smile touched his lips.
"Sure," Siddanth agreed easily. "I will teach you."
He pulled the Swift to a halt in the dead center of the dirt road and shifted into neutral, leaving the engine idling and the air conditioning running.
"Alright," Siddanth said, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door. "Let's exchange seats."
Krithika let out a long, dramatic sigh, suddenly realizing she actually had to go through with it now. She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out into the warm, dry heat. She walked around the hood of the car and awkwardly slid into the driver's seat, looking at the steering wheel like it was an unexploded bomb.
Siddanth got into the passenger side and shut the door. He turned sideways in his seat, resting his back against the door panel so he could watch her fully.
"Okay," Siddanth began, slipping into a calm, patient instructor tone. "First things first. Adjust your seat. You need to be able to push the clutch all the way down to the floorboard without stretching."
Krithika reached under the seat, grabbed the metal bar, and pulled herself forward. The seat aggressively slammed forward on its rails, pushing her chest entirely too close to the steering wheel.
"Too close," Siddanth noted dryly. "Unless you're planning to steer with your teeth."
Krithika glared at him, grabbed the bar again, and pushed back an inch. "Better?"
"Perfect. Now, adjust the rearview mirror and the side mirrors."
She dutifully tilted the mirrors until she had a clear view of the empty dirt road behind them. She placed her hands firmly on the steering wheel at the ten-and-two position, her knuckles already turning slightly white from her grip.
Before touching any of the pedals, Krithika reached out with her left hand and turned the radio dial. A peppy, loud Bollywood track immediately blasted through the cabin speakers.
Siddanth raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"I cannot drive in absolute silence," Krithika insisted defensively, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "It's too stressful. I need a driving playlist to calm my nerves."
Siddanth just sighed, crossing his arms. "Alright. The pedals. Right foot is for the accelerator and the brake. Left foot is for the clutch. Your left foot does absolutely nothing else. It lives and dies for the clutch."
"Right foot for two pedals. Left foot for one. Got it," she muttered, staring intensely at her own feet.
"Press the clutch all the way in," Siddanth said.
She stomped her left foot down.
"Now, put your hand on the gear stick," Siddanth continued. "The car is currently in neutral. To find first gear, push the stick all the way to the left, towards your leg, and then push it straight up."
Krithika grabbed the gear knob. She pushed it left and shoved it upward with far more force than necessary. It clicked into place.
"Okay. I'm in first," Krithika announced, her breathing becoming slightly shallow. She looked straight ahead through the windshield at the empty dirt road, her eyes wide. "Now what?"
"Now, you give it a tiny bit of acceleration with your right foot," Siddanth explained gently, keeping his voice incredibly soft to prevent her from panicking. "And at the same time, you slowly—very, very slowly—lift your left foot off the clutch. You will feel the car start to vibrate slightly. That is the bite point. Once it bites, hold your foot exactly there, and the car will move."
Krithika nodded, her jaw set in absolute determination.
She pressed her right foot down on the accelerator.
VROOOOOOOOOOM!
The engine roared to life, the RPM needle violently spiking toward the redline. The loud, aggressive sound of the over-revving engine completely drowned out the Bollywood music.
"Too much gas!" Siddanth yelled over the noise, trying not to laugh. "You're trying to move a hatchback, not launch a rocket! Ease off the right foot!"
Krithika panicked, instantly pulling her right foot entirely off the pedal. At the exact same time, she completely forgot the instructions regarding the left foot, and abruptly dumped the clutch entirely.
The Maruti Swift lurched forward with the violence of a bucking bronco.
The car leaped exactly two feet into the air, violently throwing both Siddanth and Krithika forward against their seatbelts. The engine let out a pathetic, shuddering choke, violently sputtered, and died completely.
Absolute silence descended upon the cabin, save for the cheerful pop song still playing on the radio.
Krithika was still gripping the steering wheel, her eyes wide with sheer terror, her chest heaving. She whipped her head toward the center console.
"Turn it off!" Krithika screamed at the radio, completely flustered. "The music is too loud, I can't see the clutch!"
Siddanth slowly turned his head to look at her. He calmly reached over and turned the volume dial down to zero.
"Yes," Siddanth noted dryly. "Because the music is definitely what blinded your left foot."
"Did I break it?" she whispered, terrified to move.
Before Siddanth could answer, a soft, rhythmic squeaking noise approached from the driver's side window.
A random, elderly local uncle, wearing a faded sweater despite the heat and pedaling a rusted bicycle, slowly rode past the stalled Swift on the dirt road. He didn't say a single word. He just slowly turned his head and delivered the most intense, judgmental, disappointed stare imaginable as he pedaled by at exactly three kilometers per hour.
Krithika physically shrank down into her seat, her face burning a bright, embarrassed red under the uncle's silent scrutiny.
"Well," Siddanth said, holding back a massive laugh as he watched the bicycle disappear. "You didn't break the car, Krithi. But you definitely just disappointed that uncle. You let the clutch go too fast. It's called stalling."
Krithika groaned, dropping her forehead against the center of the steering wheel. "It has too many pedals! Why doesn't it just go when I press the gas?!"
"Because it's a manual transmission," Siddanth chuckled softly, reaching over to turn the key, firing the engine back up. "It builds character. Everyone stalls on their first try. Put it back in neutral. Let's try again."
Krithika sat up, her competitive pride finally kicking in. She was not going to be defeated by a battered 2008 hatchback.
She pushed the clutch in. Shifted to first.
"Slowly, Krithi. Millimeter by millimeter on the clutch," Siddanth encouraged.
She gave it a tiny bit of gas. The engine hummed nicely. She started lifting her left foot.
The car began to vibrate.
"That's the bite point," Siddanth said quickly. "Hold it right there. Don't let go."
Krithika held her breath. The car slowly, magically began to roll forward. The wheels crunched over the gravel.
"I'm doing it," Krithika gasped, her eyes widening in pure, unadulterated shock. She looked at Siddanth, a massive, triumphant smile breaking across her face. "Siddu! Look! I'm driving!"
"You are," Siddanth smiled warmly, genuinely proud of her. "You are officially driving."
"This is amazing!" she cheered, gripping the wheel tighter.
Siddanth glanced out the window, watching a stray dog casually walking along the dirt path next to them. The dog was currently moving faster than the car.
"You're doing great, Shorty," Siddanth noted. "We are currently traveling at a blistering speed of six kilometers per hour. Try giving it a little more gas."
Krithika pressed the accelerator slightly. The car picked up pace, moving to fifteen kilometers an hour. The engine began to whine, a high-pitched, complaining noise filling the cabin.
"The engine sounds angry," Krithika noted, looking panicked. "Why is it screaming?"
"Because you've maxed out the first gear," Siddanth explained calmly. "First gear is only for getting the car rolling. Once you're moving, you have to shift to second gear. Otherwise, the engine works too hard."
"Okay. How do I do that?"
"Take your foot completely off the gas," Siddanth instructed. "Press the clutch all the way to the floor. Pull the gear stick straight down into second. Then let the clutch out smoothly and press the gas again."
Krithika stared straight ahead, her brain furiously trying to process the complex sequence of mechanical instructions while actively piloting a moving two-ton metal box.
"Gas off. Clutch in. Stick down," Krithika repeated like a mantra.
She took her foot off the gas. She slammed the clutch in. The car immediately began to slow down.
Panicking about the loss of momentum, she looked down at the gear stick to figure out where second gear was.
"Eyes on the road!" Siddanth yelled quickly.
Krithika's head snapped back up. She grabbed the gear stick blindly and yanked it downward with all her might, but she didn't pull it straight. She accidentally pulled it diagonally.
GRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIND!
An absolutely horrifying, metallic, screeching noise erupted from the center console. It sounded like a blender full of silverware.
Siddanth physically winced, his shoulders pulling up to his ears as he felt a sharp, sympathetic pain for his gearbox.
"Clutch! Put the clutch back in!" Siddanth said urgently, grabbing her wrist to stop her from forcing the stick further into the wrong slot.
Krithika stomped on the clutch, her face pale. She slammed on the brakes. The car skidded to a violent, dusty halt in the middle of the dirt road. The engine sputtered and died once more.
She let go of the steering wheel and threw her hands up in the air in total frustration.
"That was terrible!" Krithika complained loudly, turning to glare at him. "The stick wouldn't go in! It's broken! Your car is broken, Siddanth!"
"My car is not broken, Krithi," Siddanth laughed, rubbing his forehead. "You tried to put it into fourth gear while doing ten kilometers an hour. You have to guide the stick gently. You don't have to wrestle it."
"It's not my fault! I couldn't look at it!" she argued defensively, crossing her arms. "You yelled at me to keep my eyes on the road! How am I supposed to know where the gears are if I can't look at them?!"
"You memorize the pattern," Siddanth said reasonably. "It's an H-pattern. Straight up is first, straight down is second. Up, right, up is third."
"This is stupid. Automatics exist for a reason," Krithika huffed, leaning back against her seat. "Why did you bring a manual car anyway? You have an Audi at home that basically drives itself!"
"Because if you learn how to drive a manual, you can drive literally anything in the world," Siddanth reasoned smoothly, completely ignoring her temper tantrum. "And it requires actual skill. You're an intelligent girl. You can figure this out."
Krithika narrowed her eyes at him, completely un-swayed by the flattery. "Don't try to manipulate me with compliments. I hate this third pedal."
"Try it again," Siddanth encouraged softly. "Just to second gear. We won't go any faster than that today."
She let out a long, heavy sigh, totally defeated by his unwavering patience. She restarted the car.
Clutch in. First gear. Bite point. Gas.
The car rolled forward smoothly. No stalling.
"Excellent," Siddanth praised. "Now, build up a little speed."
She accelerated to fifteen kilometers an hour. The engine began to whine again.
"Alright. Prepare to shift," Siddanth said. "Gas off. Clutch in."
Krithika executed the footwork perfectly. She grabbed the gear stick with a bit too much adrenaline and forcefully yanked it straight down.
It slid past neutral and clicked into second gear.
But because she had gripped it with the strength of a weightlifter, the worn-out plastic gear stick knob literally popped off the metal shaft and came entirely loose in her hand.
Krithika froze. She held the plastic knob up in the air in absolute horror, her eyes wide.
"Siddu..." Krithika whispered, her voice trembling as the car coasted forward. "I broke it. The stick came off."
Siddanth looked at the gear knob in her hand. He just let out a slow, tired sigh, gently took the plastic piece from her trembling fingers, and calmly screwed it back onto the metal shaft.
"You didn't break the car, Krithi. You just unscrewed the knob," Siddanth said, shaking his head. "Now let the clutch out and press the gas before we stall again."
She slowly let the clutch out and pressed the accelerator.
The car surged forward smoothly, picking up speed, the loud whining of the engine instantly dropping into a low, comfortable purr.
Krithika's eyes lit up. A massive, brilliant smile broke across her face, the gear-knob panic instantly forgotten.
"I did it!" she yelled, hitting the steering wheel excitedly with the palm of her hand. "Did you hear that? No grinding! It was perfectly smooth!"
"I heard it," Siddanth laughed, genuinely happy for her. "Textbook shift, Shorty. Now keep it steady. Keep it in the middle of the road."
Krithika was officially cruising. They were traveling at a respectable thirty kilometers an hour down the wide, dusty path. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long, golden shadows across the scrubland. With the windows rolled down, the warm breeze ruffled her hair.
For five glorious minutes, she felt like an absolute professional. She relaxed her death grip on the steering wheel, leaning back slightly in her seat.
"You know, this isn't actually that hard," Krithika declared confidently, tapping her fingers on the wheel to the rhythm of the wind. "Once you get the hang of the foot stuff, it's basically just driving a very large, very heavy Scooty."
"Don't get cocky," Siddanth warned lightly, leaning his arm against the window frame. "Driving in a straight line on an empty dirt road is easy. The real test is traffic and turns. Up ahead, where the road widens into that cul-de-sac, we are going to make a U-turn."
"A U-turn?" Krithika asked, her nervousness flaring up slightly. "Do I have to stop?"
"No, keep it rolling. But you need to downshift to first gear before you turn," Siddanth instructed. "Slow down. Clutch in. Brake gently. Put your right indicator on."
Krithika, hyper-focused on her footwork and staring fiercely at the dirt road, panicked. She took her left hand off the steering wheel and violently smacked the stalk on the left side of the steering column instead of the right.
Instantly, on a completely dry, sunny afternoon, the windshield wipers engaged at maximum speed. The rubber blades aggressively and loudly squeaked back and forth across the dry glass. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK.
"Ah! What did I do?!" Krithika screamed, waving her hand at the windshield as if fighting off a swarm of angry bees. "How do I turn them off?! I can't see the road!"
Siddanth reached over, calmly flicked the stalk back to its original position, and gently pushed the correct stalk on the right side to activate the blinking indicator.
"The imaginary rain has been successfully cleared. Good job," Siddanth noted dryly. "Now, put it in first and turn the wheel, hand over hand."
She executed the footwork perfectly, slowing the car down to a crawl. She began to turn the steering wheel aggressively to the right.
But instead of using the smooth, hand-over-hand method, she tried to shuffle the wheel through her palms, getting her arms entirely tangled up in front of her chest.
The car swung widely, the front bumper heading directly toward a large, thorny acacia bush sitting stationary on the edge of the clearing.
"Sid!" Krithika panicked, her arms tangled, completely unable to straighten the wheel out in time.
Siddanth didn't yell. With lightning-fast reflexes, he simply reached across the center console with his left hand, grabbed the steering wheel, and effortlessly spun it to the left, correcting the trajectory instantly. The car smoothly bypassed the thorny bush and straightened out onto the dirt road facing the opposite direction.
He let go of the wheel, leaning back into his seat as if nothing had happened.
"Hand over hand, Krithi," Siddanth reminded her with a dry smile. "Unless you were planning on taking that bush home as a souvenir."
Krithika let out a shaky breath, her face burning red again. "My arms got stuck."
"I noticed," he chuckled. "But you kept the car running. You didn't stall. That's a victory."
They drove back down the long stretch of the dirt road. The evening air was cooling down, offering a welcome relief from the earlier heat.
"Okay, let's step it up," Siddanth said, looking at the long, empty straightaway ahead of them. "Give it some gas. Get it up to thirty-five kilometers."
Krithika pressed the accelerator. The car picked up speed. First gear to second gear. She executed it flawlessly.
"The engine is whining again," she noted, listening to the loud hum.
"That means it's time for third gear," Siddanth said. "Same process. Gas off, clutch in. Push the stick straight up from second, let it pop into neutral for a split second, and then push it straight up again into third. Smooth and easy."
Krithika took a deep breath. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel with her right hand.
She took her foot off the gas. Slammed the clutch to the floor. She grabbed the gear stick, feeling the mechanical resistance. She pushed it up, let it center itself in neutral, and pushed it up again. It slotted into third gear perfectly.
She let the clutch out and pressed the gas.
The car surged forward, effortlessly gliding over the dirt road. The speedometer needle climbed past thirty-five kilometers per hour. The engine sounded incredibly smooth, purring quietly.
Krithika sat up straight, her eyes wide with sheer, absolute triumph. She was doing it. She was actually driving a manual car at a decent speed, completely in control of the machine. The wind whipped through the open windows, blowing loose strands of hair across her face.
She looked over at Siddanth, her face radiating pure joy.
"I'm in third gear!" she cheered loudly, a massive, brilliant smile on her face. "I'm actually driving!"
"You are," Siddanth smiled warmly, his deep voice carrying over the wind. "You look like a professional, Shorty."
"I feel like a professional," Krithika beamed, looking directly at him instead of the road. "I feel like I could drive this thing all the way to Mumbai right now."
Because she was looking at him instead of the windshield for exactly two seconds, she completely missed the small, unpainted dirt speed breaker that some overly enthusiastic local contractor had built across the layout road.
The Maruti Swift hit the bump dead-on at thirty-five kilometers per hour.
THUD-BANG.
The hatchback violently launched slightly into the air. Both of them bounced aggressively in their seats, the seatbelts locking hard across their chests. Siddanth's head nearly collided with the roof of the car. The suspension groaned in absolute agony as the tires slammed back down onto the dirt.
The cabin fell into a stunned, rattling silence as the car continued rolling forward.
Krithika swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel with a vice-like grip, her eyes wide as saucers. She nervously cleared her throat.
"I... meant to do that," Krithika lied terribly. "Just testing the suspension."
Siddanth rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a long, slow breath. "Right. The suspension is fantastic. Now please look at the road before you test the airbags."
"Right. Looking at the road," she nodded rapidly, fixing her eyes firmly straight ahead.
A few minutes later, Siddanth pointed a finger out the windshield. "Alright, professional. Slow down slightly. We have a slight roadblock approaching."
Krithika looked up.
About fifty meters ahead, wandering lazily out of the thorny bushes lining the dirt road, was a small herd of local goats. They were entirely unbothered by the approaching silver hatchback. Three of them stopped dead in the middle of the road, casually chewing on some dry grass.
Krithika's newfound confidence evaporated instantly.
"What do I do?" Krithika panicked, her hands tightening back into a vice grip on the wheel. "Why are they in the middle of the road?!"
"Because they are goats, Krithi. They don't understand traffic laws," Siddanth noted dryly. "Just slow down. Take your foot off the gas and press the brake gently."
"They aren't moving!" she yelled, her voice rising in pitch as the car closed the distance.
"Honk the horn," Siddanth instructed calmly.
Krithika slammed the palm of her hand against the center of the steering wheel. The Swift let out a sharp, loud BEEP.
The goats looked up, chewed their grass slowly, and completely ignored the car, refusing to move an inch.
"They don't care!" Krithika yelled, absolute panic setting in as the car rolled within twenty meters of the animals. "I'm going to run them over! I'm going to be a goat-murderer on my first day of driving!"
Siddanth looked completely relaxed from the waist up. His face was entirely calm. But from the waist down, his survival instincts had entirely taken over. His right leg was completely rigid, his foot aggressively and repeatedly stomping into the passenger-side floorboard, desperately trying to press a brake pedal that absolutely did not exist.
"You're not going to hit them, Krithi. Just brake!" Siddanth said, his voice remaining totally calm despite his phantom-braking foot. "And press the clutch in so you don't stall!"
In her sheer panic, Krithika's brain completely short-circuited. She forgot the existence of the clutch entirely. She took her right foot off the accelerator and absolutely slammed it down onto the brake pedal with all her might.
The Maruti Swift screeched, the tires locking up against the loose gravel. The car jolted violently forward, throwing them both hard against their seatbelts. The engine, completely choked because the clutch hadn't been engaged, let out a violent, horrible stuttering noise before dying completely.
The car stopped exactly five feet away from the lead goat.
The goat stared at the silver bumper, let out a soft baa, and casually ambled off the road into the bushes, completely unharmed.
The cabin was dead silent, save for the sound of Krithika's heavy, rapid breathing.
Siddanth slowly stopped stomping on his imaginary brake pedal. He turned his head to look at her. He didn't look angry. He looked profoundly, deeply amused.
"Well," Siddanth said softly, fighting a massive grin. "The good news is, the goat survived."
Krithika dropped her head against the steering wheel, letting out a long, muffled groan of absolute defeat.
"I forgot the clutch," she mumbled into the plastic wheel.
"You did," Siddanth agreed cheerfully. "You also gave us both mild whiplash again."
Krithika tried to lean forward to turn the ignition key, but the violent jerk from the sudden stop had caused her seatbelt to engage its emergency locking mechanism. She was completely pinned to her seat.
She hilariously fought her own seatbelt, pulling at the strap in frustration. "Let me go! The car is actively trying to restrain me for being a bad driver!"
Siddanth let out a rich, warm laugh. He reached over, gently unclicked her seatbelt to release the tension, and flicked her forehead playfully.
"Don't be dramatic," Siddanth smiled as she clicked the belt back in properly. "You panicked because an obstacle appeared. It's totally normal. When you panic, your instinct is just to stop the car, so you hit the brake. The clutch memory takes time to build. It has to become a subconscious reflex, like breathing."
Krithika huffed, looking out the window at the empty road. "I don't want to drive anymore. I suck at this. I'm going to stick to auto-rickshaws for the rest of my life."
"No, you're not," Siddanth said, his voice dropping into a firm, encouraging register. He didn't let her wallow in defeat. "You were doing perfectly fine before the goats decided to rebel against us. Turn the key. Start the engine."
She glared at him, absolutely hating how reasonable and patient he was being. She couldn't even pick a fight with him because he wasn't yelling at her.
"I hate you," Krithika muttered, completely devoid of any actual malice.
"I know," Siddanth smirked. "Start the car."
She took a deep breath, pressed the clutch to the floor, and turned the key. The engine hummed back to life.
For the next hour, as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and purple, they drove up and down the long stretch of the abandoned layout.
Siddanth was a brilliant teacher. He didn't overcomplicate things with mechanical jargon. He just gave her simple, clear instructions. He anticipated her mistakes before she made them, softly reminding her to hover her foot over the clutch when she slowed down for a bump, and correcting her hand position when she tried to cross her arms while turning.
Eventually, the chaotic, jerky movements smoothed out.
Krithika's brain finally began to connect the physical feedback of the car with her footwork. She learned to listen to the engine, shifting to second gear without having to look down at the stick, and successfully managing U-turns without ripping off the gear knob or turning on the windshield wipers.
"Alright," Siddanth finally said, looking at the setting sun. "Slow down. We're approaching the main highway. Pull over to the left side."
Krithika nodded. She eased off the accelerator, gently applying the brake. She remembered to press the clutch in before the car came to a complete stop, avoiding the stall perfectly. She pulled the handbrake up and shifted the stick into neutral.
She took her hands off the wheel, letting out a massive, exhausted, but incredibly satisfied sigh. Her shoulders dropped, the tension of the last two hours finally leaving her body.
"That was exhausting," Krithika admitted, turning to look at him. "My left leg is literally shaking."
"That's normal. It's a new muscle memory," Siddanth said, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door. "You did brilliantly today, Krithi. Really. You only stalled four times. I've seen guys who have been driving for a year stall more than that in Hyderabad traffic."
Krithika smiled, unbuckling her own seatbelt and stepping out of the car. She stretched her back, looking at the beautiful, vibrant orange sunset painting the horizon over the dusty fields.
Siddanth walked around the front of the car, meeting her near the driver's side door.
He leaned back against the silver hood of the Swift, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked down at her, offering a warm, affectionate smile.
"So," Siddanth asked playfully. "Do you still hate the third pedal?"
Krithika stepped closer, leaning her back against the car right next to him. Their arms brushed together comfortably.
"I strongly dislike it," Krithika corrected with a smirk, looking up at him. "But I think we can reach a compromise. Eventually."
"I think you're going to be a great driver," Siddanth praised sincerely. "A few more weekends out here, and you'll be ready to navigate the city traffic."
"Does that mean you're going to let me drive the Audi soon?" Krithika teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Siddanth let out a rich, booming laugh, shaking his head immediately. "Absolutely not. I love you, Krithi, but if you mistake the brake for the clutch in a V10 supercar, we are going to end up in orbit. You stick to the Swift for now."
Krithika laughed softly, playfully shoving his shoulder. "You're so mean."
"I'm practical," Siddanth grinned, reaching out and gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
He didn't pull his hand away. He let his fingers rest lightly against her jaw, his thumb softly brushing her cheek. The playful banter faded, replaced by the quiet, comfortable intimacy they shared when the rest of the world was shut out.
Krithika leaned into his touch slightly.
"Thank you for today, Siddu," she whispered, looking up into his dark eyes. "For being so patient. I know I was being annoying."
"You are always annoying," Siddanth smiled softly, his voice dropping into a low, warm register. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."
He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead.
Krithika closed her eyes, savoring the moment, the quiet dirt road, the setting sun, and the absolute safety she felt standing next to him.
"Alright," Siddanth said, pulling back slowly and playfully tapping her nose. "My turn to drive. I'm hungry, and I know a place nearby that makes excellent chicken shawarma."
Krithika's eyes immediately lit up at the mention of food. "I am starving. Learning how to shift gears burns a lot of calories."
"I'm sure it does," Siddanth chuckled, opening the passenger door for her.
Krithika slid into the seat, watching as Siddanth walked around to the driver's side. He got in, adjusted the seat smoothly backwards, and turned the key. The engine roared to life. He executed a flawless, blindingly fast, one-handed U-turn on the gravel, shifting into second gear without even looking down.
Krithika watched him, shaking her head in sheer amazement.
"Show-off," she muttered affectionately as the car sped down the dirt road toward the city lights.
Siddanth just smirked, turning the radio volume up. The driving lesson was officially over, and the evening was just beginning.