Next Morning – Vanya’s Apartment
The kitchen smelled like coffee and the faint sweetness of butter melting on toast. A lazy kind of sunlight streamed through the half-open blinds, dust motes dancing in the golden light.
Vanya sat slouched at the counter, drowning in an oversized hoodie that made her look smaller than usual. Her hair was a loose, half-hearted bun, and she cradled her second mug of coffee like it was medicine—something to keep her upright and functional. The shadows under her eyes hinted at the 3 a.m. phone call she hadn’t quite processed.
Across from her, Dev lounged with the relaxed arrogance of someone who’d slept far too well. His legs were propped up on the coffee table, one hand lazily scrolling through his phone while the other tapped out an impatient rhythm on the armrest.
On the couch, Trisha, all bright energy and fresh nail polish fumes, perched cross-legged with her tiny bottles spread out like a war kit. She blew gently on her freshly painted nails, eyeing her older sister like a cat ready to pounce on gossip.
Arav, ever the calm observer, was leaning on the counter with his cereal bowl, spoon halfway to his mouth. His gaze had that suspicious glint—the kind that said something happened, and he wasn’t going to let it go.
“So…” Dev’s voice broke the quiet, deliberately slow and teasing. “Sleep well, CEO?”
Vanya gave him a bleary squint over her coffee mug. “What do you want?”
“Oh, nothing,” Dev said, stretching with mock innocence, phone tossed aside. “Just wondering how many people call you at three in the morning to ask about… a watch.”
Trisha gasped so loudly she smudged her thumb. “Wait, wait—back up. What?”
Arav’s spoon paused midair. “Did I just hear a watch?”
Dev grinned, all teeth and mischief. “Yup. Our queen here got a call from her crush at 3:08 a.m. sharp.”
Vanya groaned and thunked her mug down on the counter. “I’m going to kill you.”
“From Ira, wasn’t it?” Trisha asked, her voice rising like she already knew the answer. Her smirk was wicked. “Of course it was. That girl could say ‘pass the salt’ and you’d compose poetry.”
Vanya’s ears went pink. “It wasn’t like that. She just… asked about the Tomar watch I mentioned before.”
Arav leaned forward, his bowl forgotten. “And?”
“And I told her,” Vanya muttered, suddenly defensive. “I told her the story about Dad.”
For a moment, all the teasing stilled.
The trio exchanged quiet glances. That story—about their father, the watch he’d once dreamed of owning, and the ache that came with remembering it—wasn’t something Vanya offered lightly.
Trisha’s voice softened, surprise threading through it. “Wait… you told her that story?”
Dev raised an eyebrow. “The one you never tell anyone because it’s, and I quote, ‘too personal’?”
Vanya’s lips twitched, a shadow of defiance hiding something tender. “She asked. And she sounded… sincere. And I don't know but something about her about her presence calm something in me a kind of that I don't know exist "
“Wow that's weird." Arav said flatly.
Vanya roll her eyes
"But serious 3 in the morning" Arav said.
“Because she couldn’t sleep thinking about why you wanted it,” Dev added, leaning back with a smirk. “That’s not just curiosity. That’s—”
“Soft,” Trisha interrupted, practically squealing as she clutched her nail polish bottle like it was too much to handle. “Oh my God. Ira is soft for you.”
Vanya pressed her hands to her face, trying to hide the way her mouth was betraying her with the faintest smile. “She literally just said ‘okay, good night’ and hung up like she hadn’t just… unlocked my childhood grief or something.”
Arav let out a low whistle. “She’s emotionally dense and emotionally dangerous. I like her already.”
Dev grinned. “You poor thing. Caught in the web of a girl who doesn’t even know she’s spinning it.”
Anika leaned over, her smirk turning gleeful. “Wait till she asks about your favorite candy at 2 a.m. Next thing you know, she’s mailing you care packages with your emotional DNA mapped out.”
Vanya groaned, grabbing the nearest croissant as if bread could save her.
“Why am I the only one suffering here?” she mumbled through a bite.
Dev, ever dramatic, placed a hand over his heart and slid a croissant toward her like an offering.
“Because you fell for a woman who treats emotional attachment like it’s a calendar entry,” he said, grinning. “And somehow still makes you feel like you’re living in a romance novel.”
Trisha giggled, nudging Vanya’s knee with her foot. “Honestly? If Ira ever realizes what she’s doing to you, we should all evacuate. Your heart won’t survive the blast radius.”
Arav raised his spoon like a toast. “Until then, keep reporting every time she emotionally devastates you at ungodly hours. This is our favorite new series.”
Vanya groaned, but there was a faint glow in her eyes she couldn’t quite hide.
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