The one day he stayed

Yuvi lay on his bed, one leg dangling off the edge, phone held above his face, watching the vlog she'd posted for what had to be the fifth time.

“Kids,” she chirped on-screen, “your dad is a menace and a gentleman. Unfortunately.”

He snorted to himself, lips twitching. The camera had tilted a bit at that moment, catching a blurred but weirdly perfect shot of him half-smiling, walking beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t even know she’d kept filming after that.

God, she’s something.

A buzz lit up his phone — Pratyush.

Pratyush: “Dude she posted a vlog with you? You’re on her story story. Not even private close friends. She’s soft-launching you.”

Yuvi laughed, typing back quickly.

Yuvi: “Relax. I’m just the imaginary dad of imaginary kids. A guest appearance.”

Pratyush: “You like her.”

He paused.

Yuvi: “Yeah. I think I do.”

It felt too easy to say.

Because it wasn’t just her smile or her chaos or how she didn’t flinch around him. It was that weird, unexplainable warmth in his chest when she laughed with her whole body, or how he could tell when she was pretending to be okay, even before she spoke.

He stared back at the video again, her voice still playing in the background.

“She’s the one talking nonstop,” he murmured to himself, “and I’m the one who can’t shut up in my head anymore.”