The afternoon sun filtered through the windscreen in soft ribbons of gold, warming the dashboard and tinting the inside of the car with a quiet, honeyed glow. Outside, the city moved in its usual chaos—horns blaring, engines roaring, voices overlapping—but inside the car, the world felt suspended, as though time itself had decided to slow down just for them.
Aditya drove with one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other loose near the gear shift, though his fingers twitched now and then, betraying the storm beneath his composed exterior. His eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror—once, twice—catching her reflection: the gentle curve of her cheek, the flutter of her lashes when she blinked, and the way sunlight brushed her skin like something tender and sacred.
Write a comment ...