AUTHORs' POV

His mind kept repeating the words, "Savitri Devi Solanki." When he read the name, he was first shocked, then confused, and finally, just amused.

It sounded like a name from centuries ago for someone to have in this day and age.

He looked at Vikaal with a deadpan expression, and Vikaal's face mirrored the same. The next moment, they both burst out laughing.

"Bhai, yeh apni friend ko lene bhej rahi hai ya uski mummy?" (Is she sending us to receive her friend or her friend's mother?), Vikaal whispered in his ear. Amulya bit his cheek to keep his laughter in check.

"Stop being so mean," she glared.

"Or else?" Ramjhim said in a warning tone.

"Or else what?" Amulya asked, taking the board.

"I'll call BP."

"Bhai, let's go." The moment he heard Nirmaan's mention, Amulya turned around and bolted.

Rimjhim smiled proudly and shook her head in amusement.

"Love you, BP," she said, blowing a flying kiss to her phone, which had a lock screen of her entire family.

On their way to the airport, Amulya couldn't stop thinking about the girl he was going to pick up. Who might she be? What does she look like? Does he know her? But how could that be possible? He had never heard Rimi mention anyone with this name.

With these thoughts in mind, Amulya reached the airport. He parked the car and was about to step out when Vikaal called out, "Don't you think you're forgetting something?" he asked teasingly.

Amulya rolled his eyes but nevertheless picked up the gifts, expecting Vikaal to accompany him. However, from the way Vikaal was comfortably reclining in the passenger seat, it was clear he had no intention of moving.

"Fuck you," Amulya cursed in pure frustration.

"Naah, sorry, brother, but I'm straight. Better luck next life," Vikaal replied, leaning back in his seat and playing Candy Crush.

"Saalā, 30 saal ka nahi, tu 3 saal ka hai." (You're not 30, you're 3.)

Shaking his head, Amulya left for the terminal.

It was a Friday evening, and the airport was bustling with passengers, their families, and friends. As he passed through the crowd, he noticed a group of paparazzi gathered at a distance, likely waiting for a celebrity. He was sure they called themselves fans and then pretended to be shocked when the celebrity actually arrived.

Standing near the arrivals section, Amulya waited for his sister's friend, along with several others. But it seemed the flight had been delayed.

Thirty minutes had already passed beyond the scheduled arrival time.

Sighing, he decided to call Rimi to update her, when he suddenly heard a soft, sweet voice.

"Excuse me."

Someone tapped his shoulder just as he held his phone to his ear, waiting for Rimi to pick up.

Frowning, Amulya glanced down at his shoulder where a delicate hand rested. His gaze trailed up the arm, noticing a girl standing before him.

Before he could get a proper look at her, her phone slipped from her hand, nudged by the movement of a passing stranger.

"Ohhh..." she let out a small sound and bent down to pick it up.

At the same moment, Amulya instinctively bent down as well.

"Let me help y—" His words faded, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes met hers.

His heart was racing, pounding a thousand miles per second. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. It felt like someone had cast a spell, trapping them in this blink of magic.

Not in a million years could he mistake her for someone else.

"Is she really...?"

"Don't worry, I got it," she said, picking up her phone, completely unaware of the storm she had just set off inside him.

Thank you anyway," she smiled, slipping her phone into her purse.

Amulya just stood there, utterly clueless.

"And you are?" the girl asked, expecting an answer. But at that moment, Amulya was completely deaf to the world.

His gaze moved from the ground up, trailing over her in slow motion, as if time had decided to stretch this moment just for him.

She wore a dress that felt like a soft breeze on a summer morning—a light blue gingham, effortlessly timeless. The design hugged her curves.

The skirt flowed in gentle tiers, swaying, carrying an air of effortless charm—a blend of elegance and simplicity, yet utterly captivating. But more than anything, it was her smile that struck him the most. It felt just right in every way.

Her cheeks, dusted with a soft pink hue, were like cupcakes with swirls of frosting at a birthday party—sweet, warm, and inviting.

And her eyes. Her eyes were unlike any others.

Deep and luminous, they held the kind of secrets only the moon could whisper. Chocolate-brown, rich as poetry, the kind of eyes poets write verses about. They didn't just look at you; they told stories of their own.

And then there was her skin—a warm, honeyed glow that made everything about her feel even more perfect.



Excuse me?" She waved her hand in front of him, snapping him out of his daze.

Her 5'5" frame, curvy and graceful, stood like a vision before Amulya as he looked down at her.

"Ahhh... yeah... I mean... hello," he stuttered, suddenly feeling tongue-tied.

"I'm Amulya, Amulya Singh Chandravanshi. Rimi's brother. Hope you remember me?" he introduced himself, expecting some recognition.

"Ahh... sorry, I don't really. I mean, I do... vaguely... but—it's been so many years. Hope you don't mind," she replied hesitantly, extending her hand for a handshake.

"By the way, I'm Savi. I know you remember me, but you know, courtesy and all," she added with her ever-charming smile.

"Savi? But this says..." He pointed at the board he was holding.

"Yeah..." she dragged the word out, as if a little shy.

"Fine, I won't ask."

"Hope you don't mind?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Yeah, of course not. Why would I mind? Ahh..." he paused for a second before changing the subject.

"By the way, this is for you. Rimi prepared all this for you."

He handed her a bouquet of marigold flowers, a basket of chocolates, and floral claw clips.

Savi's smile brightened instantly. She began bouncing on her toes, her excitement barely contained.

"She said..." Amulya started, but before he could finish, she had already snatched the gifts from his hands.

"It's........your favorite," he trailed off, watching her reaction.

A small smirk curved at the corner of his lips. "She's still the same. Still jumping like a kid when she gets her favorite flowers—my Gende ka Phool." 🌼

Savi brought the marigolds to her nose, inhaling deeply, letting their fresh, earthy scent fill her senses.

"Let's go," Amulya said, taking her luggage and gesturing for her to walk ahead.

They walked side by side, yet no words were exchanged. Amulya still couldn't believe it—his Savi, his Gende ka Phool, was right here, in front of his eyes.

Soon, they reached the car, and Amulya placed her bags in the trunk. The sound of the thump caught Vikaal's attention. He turned around to see Amulya loading the luggage, but his gaze quickly shifted past him.

Savi stood there, clueless yet radiant.

Vikaal glanced out the window, his eyes landing on her—and for a moment, he froze.

"Come, have a seat," Amulya said, opening the door for her.

Vikaal, still processing what he was seeing, remained blank, lost in thought.

"Hi!" Savi waved and smiled warmly.

"Hiiiiii...."Vikaal's response was slow, hesitant, and utterly confused.

Amulya, already behind the wheel, was ready to leave when—

"Bhai, your Gende—"

Amulya pinched Vikaal's thigh—HARD.

"Ow!" Vikaal winced in pain.

Savi frowned in confusion. "Sorry... Gende?"

"Ahh... nothing! He meant... my gamle... gamle ka phool!" Amulya fumbled, "I mean, gamle ke liye phool—flowers for my pots!" He gritted his teeth, glaring at Vihaal. "Right?"

Vikaal, biting back a laugh, nodded enthusiastically. "Yes... yes, exactly! Amulya loves flowers. Especially GENDE ka PHOOL (marigold flower)." He exaggerated the name, dragging it out just enough to tease Amulya further. "I was just reminding him to buy some new plants from the nursery tomorrow morning."

When they were finally on the highway, Vikaal—who looked way more excited than Amulya—turned to Savi and asked, "If it's okay, can I play some music?"

Savi, ever sweet, obviously said yes. "Of course!"

Vikaal smirked. "I promise you're going to love this song. In fact, it's Amulya's favorite—just like his favorite FLOWERS."

Amulya already knew exactly what his dear best friend was about to do.

And the song he played was...

(I'll tell you all in the next chapter.)

Till then, BYE!

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That's it for today..
How was the update?????

When Amulya described his Savi