Chapter 32

The chill of winter was starting to seep into the air, wrapping the mornings in a soft, cold embrace. I stretched lazily as I got out of bed, grabbing the first warm thing I could find from the chair nearby.

It turned out to be one of Veer's hoodies—oversized, soft, and still faintly carrying his scent. I pulled it on, smiling to myself as I adjusted the sleeves that were too long for my arms.

As I moved toward the dresser to grab my moisturizer, I stopped in my tracks. The room was a mess.

Veer's tie was draped over a chair, his blazer hung half off the backrest, and his shoes were lying in the middle of the floor. Papers were scattered across the desk, and the bed was a tangle of sheets.

"Veeranshu Mehra!" I called out, standing in the middle of the chaos.

He walked into the room a moment later, his hair slightly damp from the shower, a towel slung over his shoulder. "What?" he asked, his tone calm.

"What is this mess?" I said, gesturing around the room.

He glanced at the tie, then at the papers, before shrugging. "Creative chaos?"

"No!" I snapped, putting my hands on my hips. "This is just chaos."

I started picking up his things, muttering under my breath as I worked. He stood there, watching me with a faintly amused expression.

"Tara, you don't have to do this," he said, but I ignored him, determined to restore some order to the room.

As I reached the closet, I stopped and turned to him. "You know what?" I said. "I'm moving my things to your side of the closet."

"What? Why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because your side is closer to the dressing table," I said simply.

"No," he replied immediately.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And why not?"

He hesitated for a moment before finally answering. "Because I like seeing your things between mine," he admitted.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Your lipstick, your moisturizer, your hairpins—they're all mixed in with my things," he said, his voice quieter now. "I like it. It reminds me that you're here, that this is our home. Not just mine."

My annoyance melted away in an instant. "You're impossible, you know that?" I said softly.

"Maybe," he replied, giving me one of his rare, small smiles.

As I finished tidying up, Veer leaned against the doorframe, watching me with a thoughtful expression. "You know what I feel like eating?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" I asked, glancing at him.

"Your paneer paratha," he said.

I laughed. "Is that your way of asking me to cook for you?"

"Yes," he replied shamelessly.

We headed to the kitchen, where I started preparing the dough and filling for the parathas. Veer perched casually on the countertop, his long legs dangling as he watched me work.

"Do you always sit there?" I asked, rolling out the first paratha.

"Only when you're cooking," he said with a shrug. "It's entertaining."

I shook my head, placing the rolled-out paratha onto the hot pan. "Here," I said, tearing off a small piece and handing it to him.

He took it, blowing on it before popping it into his mouth. "Perfect," he said, his eyes lighting up.

As I worked on the next paratha, Veer leaned back slightly, a nostalgic look crossing his face.

"You know," he began, "in college, there was this girl. She was the queen bee—rude, mean, always creating trouble for me."

"Oh?" I said, curious. "What kind of trouble?"

"She once convinced half the class that I had a crush on her," he said, shaking his head. "Which was absurd because I couldn't stand her."

I laughed. "What happened?"

"She and her boyfriend ended up getting caught in the act of some over-the-top PDA," he said with a smirk. "After that, she stopped bothering me. Too embarrassed, I guess."

I handed him another piece of paratha, smiling as he continued to share more stories—of annoying professors, late-night pranks, and the friends he'd lost touch with but still remembered fondly.

By the time I finished making the parathas, the kitchen was filled with the warm aroma of spices and butter. Veer slid off the counter, helping me carry the plates to the dining table.

As we sat down to eat, I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth—not just from the food, but from the quiet moments we shared.

Winter might have been settling in, but with Veer by my side, everything felt just a little bit brighter.

After dinner, as we settled onto the couch, a playful thought crossed my mind.

"Veer," I said, nudging him lightly.

"Hmm?" he replied, looking up from his phone.

"Let's play a video game," I said, grinning.

He raised an eyebrow. "A video game? Tara, I haven't touched one in years."

"Perfect!" I said, my grin widening. "That means I might actually win."

He smirked, leaning back. "Don't be so sure. I might be a little rusty, but I was unbeatable back in the day."

"Challenge accepted," I declared, standing up to fetch the console.

We started with Mario, a classic. The cheerful music filled the room as we chose our characters and began the game. I was confident at first, but Veer quickly left me in the dust, jumping and dodging like a pro.

"What happened to being rusty?" I grumbled as his character reached the finish line before mine.

"I guess it's like riding a bike," he said with a shrug, his smirk firmly in place.

Next, we moved to Counter-Strike. I was determined to make a comeback, but Veer's sharp reflexes and strategic gameplay left me no chance.

"Stop hiding behind that corner!" I shouted, frustrated.

He chuckled. "It's called strategy, Tara. Maybe you should try it."

By the time the match ended, I was thoroughly defeated.

"GTA," I announced, pulling up the next game.

"Are you sure about this?" Veer asked, clearly enjoying himself.

"Just start," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

The game began, and once again, Veer's experience and quick thinking outmatched my efforts. He navigated the chaos of the game with ease, leaving me fumbling to keep up.

When he won yet again, I stood up, planting my hands on my hips. "Veeranshu Mehra, you're going to lose the next match."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back casually. "Oh, am I?"

"Yes," I said firmly, stepping closer and cupping his cheek. "And here's how it's going to go: you're going to let me win, and then you're going to tell me I'm a pro and so amazing at gaming."

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "And what do I get out of this?"

"A kiss," I said, raising my chin defiantly.

The smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a sharp intensity. "Deal," he said immediately.

We played the next match, and just as we had agreed, Veer let me win.

"You're so pro," he said, feigning awe. "I can't believe I lost to you. Amazing."

I burst out laughing, but I still managed to strike a victorious pose.

"Alright, I kept my end of the deal," he said, standing up and moving closer to me. "Now, where's my kiss?"

I hesitated, suddenly nervous. Leaning forward, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before stepping back, my face burning.

"That's it?" he asked, clearly unimpressed. "That's not a kiss, Tara."

Before I could respond, I turned and bolted, laughing nervously.

But Veer wasn't about to let me get away. He caught up to me in no time, grabbing my arm and spinning me around.

"Running away?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes locked onto mine.

"Maybe," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't say anything else. Instead, he pulled me closer, his hand cradling the back of my neck as he kissed me deeply.

It was a kiss that left me breathless, the kind that made the world fade away until there was nothing but him and the warmth of his touch.

When we finally pulled apart, I stared at him, my cheeks flushed, my heart racing.

"Now that," he said, his smirk returning, "is a kiss."

I laughed softly, leaning into him. "I suppose you earned it."

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me. "Let's call it a draw then."

And as we stood there, tangled in each other's arms, I realized that no game, no victory, could ever compare to moments like this. Moments where it was just us, no pretenses, no walls—just love.