"I just remembered," Anaya's mother said suddenly, checking her phone, "I need to step out for a bit. Some work nearby."
Anaya blinked.
Now?
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Mumma—"
"It won't take long," she added smoothly, already picking up her bag. "You both talk. I'll be back."
Before Anaya could argue, she was already walking away.
Anaya watched her leave.
Then slowly turned back.
"…that was planned."
Reyansh didn't deny it.
"Most likely."
She exhaled, leaning back slightly in her chair. "Great. No pressure at all."
A brief silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… more noticeable now.
"So," Anaya said, tapping her fingers lightly against the table, "this is the part where we're supposed to ask serious life questions, right?"
"Depends," Reyansh replied. "Do you want to?"
She considered that.
"…not really."
A faint hint of amusement crossed his face.
"Then don't."
That was unexpectedly easy.
Anaya relaxed a little, tilting her head as she studied him.
"You're different from what I expected."
"What were you expecting?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "Someone more… formal, maybe. A little harder to talk to."
"And?"
"And you're still hard to talk to," she said lightly, "just not in the way I thought."
That earned a small smile.
Brief.
But real.
For a moment, it felt… natural.
Like conversation didn't need effort.
And then—
Without warning—
Anaya's fingers stilled.
A flicker.
Stronger this time.
A corridor.
Bright.
No—
Not a corridor.
A classroom?
Voices in the background.
Laughter.
She blinked.
The image vanished.
Her breath hitched slightly.
"…what—"
Reyansh noticed immediately.
"What happened?"
She shook her head, pressing her fingers lightly against her temple.
"Nothing. Just… a weird moment."
His gaze didn't leave her.
"What kind of moment?"
"I don't know," she said, frowning. "It felt like I was about to remember something."
A pause.
"…but I didn't."
Something in his expression shifted again.
Quieter this time.
More focused.
"Does that bother you?" he asked.
"Not really," she replied, though her tone was less certain now. "It's just… strange."
He didn't respond immediately.
Just watched her for a second longer.
Then, almost unconsciously—
A thought surfaced.
A voice.
Not here.
Not now.
But familiar.
"You zone out like that sometimes."
His fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the table.
Where did that come from?
He looked away briefly, exhaling under his breath.
Across from him, Anaya had already moved on, unaware of the shift in him.
"Anyway," she said, brushing it off, "let's stick to safer topics before this turns into something philosophical."
"Safer topics," he repeated.
"Like hobbies," she added. "Or things that don't decide our entire future."
"Alright," he said. "What do you do outside of teaching?"
She hesitated.
Just a second.
Then shrugged. "I read."
"That's it?"
"I read a lot," she corrected.
"What kind?"
There it was.
The dangerous question.
Anaya looked at him carefully.
"You'll judge."
"I don't," he said calmly.
"That sounds like something someone who definitely judges would say."
Another almost-smile.
She exhaled. "Fine. Fiction. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
She looked away, trying to sound casual. "Some… darker themes. Nothing too serious."
Reyansh's gaze lingered on her.
"Define darker."
She immediately regretted saying that.
"…just stories that are a little intense."
He didn't push.
But something about his silence felt… knowing.
Anaya shifted slightly. "What about you?"
"I write."
The words were simple.
Casual.
But they landed.
Her eyes snapped back to him.
"…you write?"
"Yes."
Something about that—
Something—
Another flicker.
A page.
Ink.
A line—
Gone.
She blinked, the feeling slipping away again.
"…interesting," she said slowly, studying him now. "What do you write?"
"Nothing specific," he replied. "Just… whatever comes to mind."
That didn't answer anything.
But for some reason—
It felt like it did.
Anaya looked at him for a second longer.
Then shook her head lightly, breaking the moment.
"Okay, that was vague."
"It usually is."
She huffed a quiet laugh.
"Fair enough."
Another pause settled.
But softer now.
Easier.
Then Anaya reached for her phone.
"I mean," she said, glancing at him, "if we're supposed to decide anything based on this, we should probably talk more than just today."
"Probably," Reyansh agreed.
She nodded once.
Then, without overthinking it this time—
"Give me your number."
Direct.
Simple.
Very her.
Reyansh took out his phone.
They exchanged devices briefly.
Their fingers brushed.
Just for a second.
And again—
That same pull.
Stronger.
Both paused.
Neither said anything.
"Done," Anaya said, taking her phone back a little too quickly.
"Done," he echoed.
Silence followed.
But not empty.
Different.
Anaya slipped her phone back onto the table, glancing at him again.
"You know… this wasn't as bad as I thought."
"High praise," he replied.
"Don't get used to it."
A small smile.
Again.
And just like that—
Something settled between them.
Not defined.
Not understood.
But there.
Like a story that had already begun—
Long before either of them realized it.
On the other side of the city—
The supermarket was quieter than usual.
Or maybe it just felt that way.
Anaya's mother pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, her eyes scanning the shelves without really focusing on anything.
She wasn't here to shop.
Not really.
"Meera."
She turned at the familiar voice, a small smile forming instantly.
"Naina."
They walked closer, the ease between them evident.
"Long day?" Naina asked, adjusting the basket in her hand.
"You could say that," Meera replied, a hint of amusement in her tone. "Yours?"
"Not too different."
A brief pause.
The kind that carried unspoken questions.
"Well?" Naina asked finally, her voice lowering just slightly.
Meera exhaled softly.
"…they talked."
Naina's brows lifted a fraction.
"That's already more than I expected."
"They didn't seem uncomfortable," Meera added. "It felt… natural."
Naina nodded slowly, as if weighing that carefully.
"That's good."
Another pause.
Meera glanced at her. "And your side?"
Naina let out a quiet breath, a small smile forming.
"He didn't complain."
That said a lot.
Meera laughed softly. "That's a strong approval coming from him, I assume."
"You have no idea," Naina replied.
They moved slightly to the side, making space for someone to pass.
The conversation, however, stayed exactly where it was.
"Honestly," Meera said after a moment, "when you first mentioned him, I wasn't sure."
"Same," Naina admitted. "I didn't want to force anything."
"And we didn't," Meera added quickly.
"No," Naina agreed. "We just… gave it a chance."
A shared understanding passed between them.
It had started here.
Two months ago.
Same place.
Same aisle.
A casual conversation.
Nothing intentional.
"You come here often?" Meera had asked back then.
"Sometimes," Naina had replied. "My son prefers a specific brand of coffee, so…"
That had been the first mention.
"My daughter is very particular too," Meera had laughed. "Especially about books."
"Books?" Naina had asked, interested.
And just like that—
It had begun.
Back in the present—
Meera smiled slightly. "I still remember that day. We didn't even realize where that conversation would lead."
Naina's expression softened. "We were just talking about our children."
"And now they're sitting in a café together," Meera said.
"Life works in strange ways," Naina murmured.
A small pause.
Then—
"Reyansh usually keeps things very minimal," Naina added casually.
Meera's smile didn't fade.
But something in her eyes shifted.
"Anaya talks enough for two people," she replied.
And there it was.
The names.
The connection.
Fully understood.
Both of them smiled.
Not surprised.
Just… quietly satisfied.
"Do you think they'll agree?" Naina asked after a moment.
Meera considered it.
"Not immediately."
A pause.
"But they didn't say no either."
And somehow—
that was enough.