Strings of Us

A knock on the door brought in a neatly dressed staff member carrying a tray with a grilled sandwich cut into triangles, a glass of chilled strawberry milkshake, and a small napkin. He set it gently on the coffee table and left with a polite nod.

Mehul walked over to the table slowly and sat down. The sandwich looked warm and crisp, and the pink milkshake reminded him of the ones he had only heard about from the children in the village who visited the city.

He took a bite-his eyes immediately lighting up at the unfamiliar but delicious taste.

Shaurya, now flipping through a file, noticed the expression.

"Pasand aaya?"

Mehul nodded quickly. "Bahut zyada. Aisa pehli baar kha raha hoon."

Shaurya hummed in response. "Aadat daal lo. Ab yeh sab tumhara hissa hai."

The words were casual, said without emotion-but they made Mehul's heart flutter in a strange, unfamiliar way.

He looked up at Shaurya, who had already turned his attention back to his work, but something had shifted between them.

It wasn't just about safety or shelter anymore. It was subtle... but it was there.

After finishing the sandwich and sipping the milkshake slowly, Mehul stood up, unsure if he should say something or just stay quietly in the corner.

Shaurya looked up briefly. "Tum sofa pe aaram se baith jao. Agar bore ho, toh yahan ek shelf mein kuch books hain-zyada technical hain par pictures bhi hoti hain."

Mehul nodded and slowly walked over to the sleek bookshelf on one wall of the cabin. His fingers brushed over the smooth spines of the books, most of them completely alien to him-business, branding, market strategy... words he couldn't even pronounce.

But one caught his eye-it had a glossy cover with photos of buildings and interiors. He gently pulled it out and sat down on the couch, flipping through the pages slowly.

Every now and then, he glanced at Shaurya-so focused, expression unreadable, jaw tight in concentration. He looked different when he was in work mode. Serious. Powerful.

And yet, just a while ago, the same man had ordered food for him, introduced him to his best friends, and defended him without hesitation.

Mehul clutched the book to his chest for a moment. "Yeh sach mein mera naya jeevan hai," he whispered to himself, barely audible.

Just then, Shaurya's phone buzzed. He picked it up with a sigh.

"Yes, I'll be there in five."

He got up, buttoning his suit jacket, and grabbed the file he had been working on.

"Mehul, main ek important meeting ke liye jaa raha hoon. Do ghante lagenge lagbhag. Tum yahin raho, agar kuch chahiye ho toh pantry ke paas receptionist se kehna. Samajh gaye?"

"Main intezaar karunga," Mehul said softly, clutching the book tighter.

Shaurya nodded once and headed to the door. Before stepping out, he paused for a second and glanced back.

"Darne ki zarurat nahi. Tum safe ho yahan."

With that, the door closed behind him.

Mehul looked around the office space, which suddenly felt much bigger without Shaurya in it. He sat back on the couch, looking at the pictures in the book again, his thoughts spinning.

Everything was changing so fast. But somewhere deep inside, something told him... he wasn't alone anymore.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The ticking of the wall clock seemed louder in the quiet that followed Shaurya's departure. Mehul sat curled up on the plush office couch, flipping through the glossy pages of the interior design book.

His eyes lingered on the pictures of grand living rooms and office spaces-so different from the mud walls and thatched roofs of his village.

He touched one image, tracing the glass windows and high ceilings with a soft smile.

An hour passed, then another. The light outside had started to dim slightly as the afternoon stretched toward evening.

The golden glow from the large office windows made everything inside look warmer. Mehul had dozed off lightly, the book still open in his lap, his head resting on the armrest of the sofa.

The soft click of the door opening stirred him.

Shaurya walked in, looking tired but still composed in his crisp black suit, a slight frown etched on his forehead.

His eyes landed on the sleeping figure on the couch, and for a moment, he just stood there-watching.

There was something strangely peaceful about Mehul at that moment. No fear, no hesitation. Just calm trust. It softened something in Shaurya's chest he hadn't even realized was tense.

He cleared his throat lightly.

Mehul stirred, blinking his eyes open. "Aap aa gaye?"

Shaurya nodded. "Haan. Tumhe neend aa gayi?"

"Thoda sa... woh book dekhte dekhte... pata hi nahi chala," Mehul replied sheepishly, sitting up quickly.

"Koi baat nahi. Kaafi achha kiya tumne bore nahi kiya khud ko," Shaurya said, removing his blazer and folding it neatly on the chair.

Mehul stood up, unsure what to do now. "Ab hum ghar jayenge?"

Shaurya checked his watch. "Haan, thodi der mein. Thak gaye ho?"

"Nahi," Mehul said quickly, though the slight yawn that followed betrayed him.

Shaurya smirked. "Jhoot bolne mein abhi practice chahiye tumhe."

Mehul looked down, embarrassed. "Mujhe aapka kaam disturb nahi karna tha."

Shaurya walked closer and placed a hand on Mehul's head, gently ruffling his hair. "Tum disturb nahi karte, Mehul. Tum bas... naye ho yahan. Har cheez samajhne mein time lagega. Lekin tum theek kar rahe ho."

That one gesture-simple, warm-made Mehul's throat tighten with emotion. No one had ever treated him like this before. Like he mattered.

Shaurya moved to the desk, collecting a few files.

"Rudra aur Abeer ne kal dinner plan kiya hai hamare ghar. Tum ready rehna. Aur haan-Rudra kuch nahi bolta, but Abeer ka drama tumne dekh hi liya hai. Usse seriously mat lena."

Mehul smiled for the first time in hours, nodding.

________________

Vote★ Comment💬 Follow🤍

Hope you like the chapter...

Thank you 🌷