Saturday arrived with a soft drizzle and the smell of fresh earth, but Karthik's mind wasn't on the weather. He was staring at the message Ananya had sent him the night before:
"Come with me tomorrow. To my cousin's engagement. My family wants to meet more of my school friends. You'll be safe in the crowd."
He had reread it about twenty times.
Safe in the crowd? It was so her to say something thoughtful and teasing in the same sentence. But it was more than that. This wasn't just about a family function—it was an invitation into her world.
And Karthik had never been good at stepping into worlds that weren't his.
Still, he went.
He wore his only decent kurta, pale blue with thin gold trim, ironed and a little too crisp. His mother raised an eyebrow, clearly curious, but said nothing. Karthik just muttered something about a school friend's function and left before more questions could come.
The venue was a large traditional hall near Mylapore, filled with jasmine garlands, soft nadaswaram music, and the chatter of well-dressed relatives. The moment Karthik stepped in, he felt underdressed, overwhelmed, and completely out of place.
And then he saw her.
Ananya, in a sea-green half saree, gold jhumkas swaying with each step, her braid decorated with flowers. She was radiant. Like something from a dream. But as he watched her laugh and greet relatives, he noticed something else.
That same polished smile again.
Until she spotted him.
Her eyes lit up, and for a second, the smile turned real. She rushed toward him, her bangles jingling with every step.
"You came," she said, almost breathless.
"You said I'd be safe in the crowd," he replied with a small grin. "So here I am."
"Come," she said, tugging him along. "I want to show you the chaos that is my family."
She introduced him as "my close friend from school," and Karthik noticed the way some of the older aunties nodded with thinly veiled curiosity.
"You're the one she talks about," one of them whispered.
Karthik looked at Ananya in surprise.
She blushed. "Ignore her. Old people gossip for sport."
As the event continued, Karthik watched Ananya transform—laughing louder, standing straighter, speaking with authority. She was confident, commanding even, but every now and then, she'd glance at him. A flicker of vulnerability. A silent, shared glance that said, I'm still me. Just… dressed differently today.
When the rituals were over and the guests were distracted by food, she finally pulled him aside to a quiet corner near the kolam-covered steps.
"Thanks for coming, Karthik," she said softly.
"You look beautiful," he blurted out before he could stop himself.
She smiled. "You don't look too bad yourself. Like a lost poet."
He laughed. "I do feel a bit lost."
"Good. Now you know what it's like being in my shoes."
He looked at her then—not the girl in the half saree or the school model—but Ananya. The one who trusted him with her quiet thoughts.
"You're not alone," he said.
"I know," she whispered, and for once, she leaned in first.
Their shoulders touched, and the noise of the world faded for a moment. Not as dramatic as a movie climax. Just two souls finding comfort in closeness.
And in that stillness, Karthik didn't feel dark anymore.
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End of Chapter 49