He is even better than books
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Mornings and I? We are not friends.
I don't wake up unless someone physically pushes, shakes, or drags me out of bed. Left to my own devices, I could easily sleep through an earthquake. Today was no different. My alarm had been blaring for a full two minutes, but I barely acknowledged it. I groaned, turning over, burying my face into my pillow. Maybe if I ignored it long enough, it would give up on me.
But, of course, life doesn't work that way.
"Alia, wake up."
A voice. A firm shake on my shoulder. Then, a more aggressive wiggle. "Alia, if you don't wake up now, I'm throwing cold water on you."
I cracked one eye open. Samaira.
I groaned. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Okay, she would. I knew Samaira well enough to know she wasn't bluffing. Grumbling, I finally sat up, rubbing my eyes.
"But it's Sunday," I mumbled, flopping back onto my pillow dramatically.
"Yes," Samaira said too energetic for this hour. "And Sunday means dosa day."
"Now go freshen up before you fall back into bed."
I sighed dramatically. "You're so mean."
After dragging myself to the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, instantly regretting my life choices. The chill shocked me awake. After brushing my teeth and bath tying my hair into a loose ponytail, I threw on an oversized sweater and jeans.
I stepped out of my room to see Aayush walking in, maybe after his boxing practice looking like he had just stepped out of a Rocky movie
"Rough practice?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.
He groaned. "Coach went extra hard today. My arms feel like jelly."
Before I could respond, Diya came in, practically glowing, a canvas tucked under her arm. There was a smudge of blue paint on her cheek, and she looked ridiculously happy.she came back from her painting class
Aayush pulled a small bouquet from his bag and turned to Diya with a soft smile.
Aayush followed right behind her, looking tired but happy. He had just returned from boxing practice, and even though he looked sweaty, his entire focus was on Diya.
"For you, my Sherni" he said, holding out the flowers.
Diya's face lit up like the sun. "Ohh, Sunflowers today!" She took them carefully, like they were the most precious thing in the world. "I love them!"
"I know," Aayush murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
I shook my head, grabbing a glass of water. "Do you even miss a single day?"
Aayush grinned. "Why would I?"
Aayush brings flowers for Diya every single day, no matter what.
Even when he's exhausted from training, bruised from a match, or drowning in assignments, he still walks in with a fresh bouquet just for her. It's never anything grand or extravagant sometimes it's a handful of wildflowers he picks on his way, other times it's a single rose or a bunch of daisies he grabs from a street vendor. But the intent is always the same.
Diya, on the other hand, treats every bouquet like it's the first.
"I think I just painted my best piece yet," she announced, placing the canvas carefully on the table.
Hriday, sitting on the couch with a book in his lap, barely glanced up. "That's what you said last time."
"This time, I mean it," Diya said plopping down next to him. "It's abstract. A blend of emotions. A story told through colors"
Samaira cut her off with a grin. "It looks like a bunch of random splashes, doesn't it?"
Diya gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "You uncultured swine!"
Samaira, on the other hand, was hunched over her laptop, glasses on, fingers flying over the keyboard.
"What are you up to?" I asked, peeking over her shoulder.
She didn't even look up. "Preparing a Thesis."
Everyone was here. Expect for Siddu Baby
"Yaar, I'm starving, jaldi se dosa banao" Samaira groaned suddenly, shutting her laptop
Sunday meant dosa day.
And if there was one thing I was undeniably good at making, it was pasta and dosa. No one ever questioned it. It had become an unspoken rule in our apartmentâif it was Sunday morning, I was in the kitchen, making crispy golden dosas for everyone.
I laughed, already reaching for the batter. "Patience, Madam. Achhi cheezein banne mein time lagta hai."
I grabbed the dosa batter and heated the pan. I spread the batter into a perfect circle.
Just as the dosa was getting crispy, Hriday walked in, plate in hand, and without a word hopped up onto the kitchen slab right beside the stove, legs dangling just like everytime
He just held his plate out expectantly.
I sighed but placed the steaming dosa directly onto it.
Before I could say anything, Samaira walked in, eyes narrowing at him. "Oye, that's my spot. Move."
Hriday, unbothered, took a bite of his dosa and chewed slowly.
Samaira gasped, looking genuinely betrayed. "Excuse me? I invented sitting here for hot, crispy dosas."
"You invented sitting?" Hriday deadpanned.
I pressed my lips together to hold back a laugh.
Samaira placed a hand on her hip. "You wanna fight for it?"
Hriday raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "If I win, I get your dosa too."
I sighed, flipping the next dosa. "Both of you, out. I'm not running a dosa war zone here."
Samaira pointed at Hriday. "This isn't over."
Samaira narrowed her eyes at Hriday but then turned to me with a dramatic sigh. "Fine, I'll sit next to this thief. But if he tries to steal my dosa, I'm stabbing him with the knife."
"Go sit down. It's ready."I snorted.
She dropped onto the slab beside Hriday, making a point to elbow him before taking her plate. He smirked but didn't say anything, too focused on eating. I placed another dosa onto her plate, and just like that, both of them went quiet, lost in their food.
Peace at last.
I turned towards the hall and called out, "Diya! Dosa's ready, come eat."
"Aayush just went for a bath! I'll wait for him, and we'll come together."
Of course. I should have known. Those two were joined at the hip. If Aayush took an hour-long bath, Diya would patiently wait, no matter how hungry she was.
Hriday, on the other hand, finished his dosa in record time and got up, dusting his hands. He stretched lazily, grabbing his book from the counter.
I glanced at him. "Since you're going out, call Sid for breakfast."
Hriday paused for a second, as if debating whether he actually wanted to do it. Then, with a small nod, he said, "Okay,aur koi hukum" and walked out of the kitchen.
I turned around to show the shot spatula hinting i will hit with this only for him to raise his hands above and went away.
I turned back to the stove, flipping another dosa.
Diya and Aayush finally walked into the kitchen together, Aayush's hair was still damp from his shower
I had already placed their plates on the table, hot dosas stacked neatly, chutney and sambar on the side. I didn't even have to call them they always ate together.
Diya sat down first, and Aayush pulled his chair closer to hers before reaching for her plate. Without hesitation, he tore a piece of dosa, dipped it in chutney, and held it up to her lips. "First bite for you."
Diya smiled, leaning in to take it, chewing happily. "Perfectly crispy. Just how I like it."
"Of course" Aayush said with a proud grin. "Alia made it."
I rolled my eyes but felt a small warmth in my chest. "Yes, yes, praise me more."
Aayush chuckled, picking up another piece, but instead of eating it himself, he held it out toward me. "You're cooking, Alia. Eat."
I blinked at him. "I'm literally standing right here. I can eat myself."
Diya giggled and also held up a piece. "Come on, one bite."
Sighing, I leaned forward, taking a bite from Diya's hand first and then Aayush's. "Happy?" I mumbled between bites.
Diya beamed. "Very."
After Aayush and Diya finished their breakfast, I found myself sitting at the dining table, waiting for Sid and just then he entered the room.
I turned around, pretending to be completely unbothered, but my traitorous eyes immediately landed on him.
Solid black T-shirt.
Of course.
Did he wake up today and decide to look this good on purpose? Or was this just his default setting? Either way, it wasn't fair.
I went straight to the stove, pouring a ladleful of batter onto the tawa. The familiar sizzle filled the air, grounding me, distracting me from the fact that Sidharth was now moving behind me. I focused on flipping the dosa with precision, placing it on a plate, adding some chutney, and setting it aside. Just as I turned around with the plate in my hand, I almost crashed into him.
I gasped, startled to see him standing right behind me, his presence too close, too distracting.
"What are you doing behind me?" I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.
"I just wanted to have my dosa. What's your problem?" he said nonchalantly, swiftly grabbing the plate from my hand before I could react. Then, instead of sitting at the dining table like a normal person, he casually hopped onto the kitchen slab the same place Hriday had claimed earlier.
I rolled my eyes. "What is my problem? Seriously? You stand right behind me, making no noise, scare the shit out of me, and then ask what my problem is?"
He barely looked at me, chewing slowly, as if my frustration was irrelevant. "Shhhh! Let me enjoy my dosa in peace. Do not disturb," he muttered, waving me off like I was some background noise.
I narrowed my eyes at him, watching him eat like he hadn't just annoyed me to death.
Silence stretched between us. Usually, we bickered nonstop, yet here he was, eating quietly, and it was unsettling. I turned back to making another dosa, determined to ignore him, but then
"I want another one." He said
I smirked, sensing an opportunity. "Oh? Really? You like it? I thought you detested my cooking skills," I said, flipping the dosa and waiting for his response.
"I know you are right. But what can I do? I need to alleviate my hunger," he said
"Oh! Really? Is that so? Then eat this burnt one also," I said, sliding a slightly charred dosa onto his plate before pouring another ladleful of batter onto the tawa.
He looked at me, clearly unimpressed. "What makes you think I will eat this burnt dosa of yours?" he asked
I crossed my arms. "The fact that you eat my dosa just to alleviate your hunger. I don't think it will matter. You must eat it before it gets cold and soggy, sannasi."
He picked up his dosa, about to take a bite, but before he could, I took it right out of his plate.
"What "he asked
"I did this because I'm a nice person, unlike you, who is always ready to disturb me at the drop of a hat," I said, placing a fresh dosa on his plate before he could protest.
He stared at me, probably torn between arguing and eating. In the end, his stomach won.
I turned my focus back to making my own dosas when I heard him say, "Make yours too so we can eat together."
I froze for a second, my brain struggling to process his words.
Did he justâ
I turned to him, skeptical. "You don't have to worry about me. I don't want your company. Finish your breakfast, sannasi."
"Neither do I. I just asked out of customariness," he shot back, sounding just as annoyed as I felt.
I rolled my eyes. "Of course," I muttered, placing another dosa on his plate.
He finished soon after, washed his plate, and left the kitchen without so much as a glance in my direction.
No goodbye. No acknowledgment. Nothing.
How foolish of me to even expect anything else.
I sat at the dining table, slowly eating my dosa, but the taste felt dull now. Maybe it was just my mood. Maybe it was just him.
Once I finished breakfast and got ready, I walked into the living room, expecting it to be empty. But to my surprise, the boys were already there, talking and laughing amongst themselves.
I was in my room, working, trying to focus, but the constant noise outside was getting on my nerves. This apartment was always buzzing with activity laughter, arguments, discussions over the smallest things. I didn't understand how they all functioned like this, always in each other's space. It wasn't that I hated them they were good people. But I had my limits, and lately, they seemed to be crossing them without realizing it.
The door burst open without a knock, and I clenched my jaw, already irritated before even looking up. Hriday walked in, completely unfazed, as if personal space was just a suggestion.
No boundaries. No respect for personal space
It was about this constant interruption, this expectation that I would just blend into their dynamic. It was getting too much.
"Come for breakfast," he said, casually leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place.
I exhaled sharply, my grip tightening around the pen in my hand. "Ever heard of knocking?"
Hriday shrugged, unimpressed by my annoyance. "It's just breakfast, man.
"I'll eat later," I said, my voice firm, dismissing him.
"Alia's making dosas."
"You won't get them hot later," Hriday pointed out
I didn't know why that single name made me pause.
"I'll come "I said
The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I saw her.
My personal Aafat.
Alia was sitting at the dining table, absentmindedly running her fingers along the rim of a glass of water, lost in thought. The second her gaze landed on me, she stiffened for a fraction of a second before quickly getting up, her movements hurried, almost flustered.
Was she waiting for me?
I watched as she avoided my gaze, heading straight to the stove. The way she movedâquick, a little clumsy but determinedâmade something stir in my chest. I leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms as she picked up the ladle, pouring batter onto the hot tawa.
Her hands were small, delicate, but she was precise in the way she spread the batter.
"You don't have to make it fresh," I said, my voice even.
She didn't look at me. "I don't mind."
That was the thing about Alia. She never just existed in a spaceâshe took over without even realizing it. She was the kind of person who made sure everyone ate before she did, who would complain about people bothering her but still go out of her way to make sure they were comfortable.
I should be annoyed.
But all I could focus on was the way the loose strands of her hair kept falling into her face as she worked, and how she absentmindedly blew them away, the action oddly endearing.
I didn't know why I had no problem with Alia invading my privacy.
With anyone else, I would've been annoyedâpushed back, set boundaries, made it clear that my space was mine and mine alone. I liked my solitude
But Alia?
She barged into my space like she owned itâwithout asking, without hesitation. And for some reason, I let her.
She annoyed me. Constantly.
And yet, I never wanted her to stop.
How did you like this chapter?!
Also Alia getting all flustered and embarrassed is my favorite part to write!!ð
this is my first attempt at writing a story, and I finally let my intrusive thoughts win and decided to do it anyway. I also want to know your views on this book. I'm was tad bit nervous intially,but now I am cool but still nervous about your opinion, I'd love to hear your thoughts about the book.
ALso vote and comment guys
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