Riya

I stood in front of a bungalow, trying not to let my jaw drop to the ground. My pink Kurta flowed with the wind. It was a pleasant weather. I rechecked my phone to see if it was the correct address. It was.

I knew Abhay's family was rich, but this was something else. A white mansion stood in the middle of a lush garden filled with all sorts of flowers. The outer walls of the mansion seamlessly blended into the garden, where different artistic pieces were randomly kept. I stood in front of the gate, where a guard stood, eyeing me suspiciously.

Fabulous. This was the only thing left. Being suspected as a criminal.

I nervously stepped ahead, and his eyes narrowed. "umm...Is this Abhay Raichand's house?"

House? It's not a house, Riya. It's a damn mansion.

"Yes." He stated in his grave voice. His white mustache and white hair told me he was old, but the strength in his voice told me otherwise. I waited for him to elaborate or ask something. He didn't.

I took a deep breath. "I want to meet Abhay. Can you call him?" I waited for him to move. When I thought he wouldn't, he turned towards the small room beside the gate and walked inside. I couldn't see what he was doing, and I also had no intention of moving even an inch.

I knew his house...mansion was in a posh neighborhood, but damn. This was too much. It made me too nervous. I didn't like that. From his attitude, Abhay seemed like a regular brooding guy with too much ego. But now I realized he was a rich brooding guy with too much ego.

The guard suddenly opened the gate and gestured me inside. I stepped inside the gate onto the stone pathway that went to the central structure. I had no idea where to go or what to do as I stood blinking.

Reluctantly, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed his number. It rang for a second, and he picked it up. That was quick.

"Umm...Hi-" I started.

"Walk straight." His voice came from the other side of the phone.

"Why do you say everything like an order?" I asked, pissed at his tone. I started walking towards the central structure that seemed like a...fountain. What?

"Because it was." He replied with the self-assuredness that he carried, and I rolled my eyes.

"Charming," I said and cut the call.

I slowed down my steps to take in the flowers lined around the pathways. Stopping after a few steps, I opened my camera and sat down to take a picture. Standing up, I sent it to our group.

Do you know what flower is it?

Siya replied instantly.

Purple passionflower.

Where are you?

I closed the chat. She knew where I was. Not falling for that trap. I looked at the plants closer to the wall. I could see Raat Rani there. There was reckless abandon in the way these flowers were planted. They seemed out of place in their surroundings, where each stone was planted with a purpose. But the scattered wildflowers held their head high as if challenging the world to question their existence. They owned this place.

"What are you doing?" Abhay's voice pulled me out of my reverie. He stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets, wearing his black t-shirt with grey sweatpants. I couldn't find any spots of clay on his clothes.

"Looking at the flowers," I said, looking at him. "They're beautiful."

"Meera loves flowers. Let's go." He gestured for me to follow him.

"Meera?" I asked.

"My stepmother." He replied, walking ahead of me.

"Is it a rich kid thing to call their parents by their names?" I asked as we reached the fountain, behind which was the entrance to this giant structure.

"Yes." He said grumbly and stopped to look at me as if challenging me to say something. I walked past him, ignoring his stare.

"What? Little Miss Saviour has no comment for this uncultured heathen?" He said in his husky voice and opened the door for me.

My comeback died on my lips when I looked at the interior. Inside, the ceilings held chandeliers that hung from elaborate crystal chains. The ivory wall glowed with the warm light that flooded the whole area. The square entrance area opened the way to the giant spiral staircases that led to the upper floors of the mansion.

Before I could complete my thought, a voice called out from above. "Riya."

I looked up to see Veer standing behind the railings with gold and black details. He waved his tiny hands excitedly.

A woman stood beside him, scolding him for standing too close to the railings. I recognized her from the party.

"That's Meera," Abhay said as he led me towards the stairs. As we ascended the stairs, I noticed the entrance area opened into two spacious rooms on both sides, which held antique furniture and some paintings that I wanted to check out.

As we neared the first floor, I took in the form of the woman. She donned a cream shirt and trousers with her hair in a neat bun. Veer's eyes were similar to her light brown. Different than Abhay's darker ones.

Abhay was usually a quiet person, but today, his body held a tightness. His silence seemed self-imposed, as he didn't want to utter a word intentionally.

We stopped in front of them, and Veer ran towards me with excitement. Stopping in front of me, he took my hands and started dragging me towards his mother.

"Mom, I told you na. She paints. Riya di." His eyes glowed, and he puffed out his chest proudly as if showing me off. His cuteness did distract me from the embarrassment.

A pearly laughter came from the woman standing before me. The kindness in her eyes took me aback. My surprise made me feel guilty about having preconceived notions about her. I took in her perfect oval-shaped face and almond eyes. Her bright red lipstick and her chunky floral earrings caught my attention.

"Hi Riya, I'm Meera. I have heard a lot about you." She said with a smile. Her voice was smooth like a silk cloth.

"Hello. Thank you for having me today." I said, opening my tote bag. I pulled out a box of sweets that I bought for them after asking Ruhi what sweets should I take. I handed it to her, and she took it with surprise. "It's a small gift from me," I added awkwardly.

"Oh! You didn't have to." She said, taking it.

Veer looked annoyed. "I also want a gift."

"I'll bring these sweets for you later." She said, looking at him.

We chatted for a while as she asked me about some generic questions. All the while, my focus was on the warmth she radiated. I couldn't find any fake concern in it. Even when she turned towards Abhay and her smile disappeared, the warmth with which she called his name was not unnoticeable.

Nodding, Abhay started guiding me towards the room that I was supposed to paint. Meera took Veer for a change of clothes, and I started following Abhay, feeling surreal.

"I've bought some paints for you." He said, standing in front of a closed door.

"You shouldn't have. I have some paints." I said as he opened the room.

The room was minimalistic. The white walls held a family picture of four people. I walked towards it slowly, ignoring Abhay's annoyed voice, saying something about paints. He stopped talking when he noticed me standing in front of the picture. I turned to find him still standing at the door as if hesitating to get inside.

"You want an invitation in your own home?" I asked, turning my attention back to the painting. My eyes took in the smiling face of a teenage Abhay, showing his teeth and holding a baby in his arms. Beside him stood Meera and a man with sharp features. His father. Abhay had a stark resemblance to his father.

I turned around to find him still there. His eyes look at the picture. Then his eyes found mine. I folded my hands with narrowed eyes. Coward.

His eyes imitated mine in response, and he stepped inside, taking my challenge.

"Tense shoulders, Mr. Raichand." I was not going to ignore it. If he was going to order me around, I was going to be mean, too.

"Can not keep your mouth shut, can you?" He said, finally stopping beside me.

"So only you're allowed to point out tough observations?"

"Yes," he said with his usual demeanor, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"So, where would you like the mural?" I asked, looking around.

"That wall." He pointed towards the sage green accent wall beside the bed. "We can paint there."

"We?" He didn't even bother an explanation for his we as if accepting it would hurt his image.

I sighed. "I had some ideas." I pulled out my sketch pad from my tote bag. "But now I'm thinking of changing it."

"What are you thinking?" He asked, looking at me.

"Wildflowers." I grinned. I pulled out my pencil case and sat down on the wooden flooring. He crouched down, looking into my sketchbook.

A foreign feeling engulfed me. I was sitting here with Abhay. In his home. Part of me felt as if I was intruding on his privacy, making a note of his every single expression to dismantle him and peek inside. But I reminded myself that if he didn't want to, there was no chance of me sitting here.

Maybe he too didn't hate as much as he thought. Maybe I had progressed from an unbearable annoyance to a tolerable one.

He sat down beside me in silence as I sketched out my idea. The noise of Veer in the background occasionally came. But apart from that, it was quiet and peaceful.

"How's this?" I asked.

He was silent for a while. "She would love this." He said softly. Then, as if uncomfortable with his own words, he changed the subject. "What would you like to eat? I'll bring some snacks." He got up, and I squashed the urge to call him back.

"I'm fine. I don't need anything." I mumbled, going back to the sketchbook.

"For now, I'll bring some snacks. We'll order something for lunch in a few hours." He stated, no room for arguments, and that made me want to argue more.

"Maybe try adding some politeness into your voice. Have you heard Atithi devo bhava?"

His lips twitched as if trying not to smile, and slowly sat down. Looking into my eyes, he asked, "What would this goddess like to eat?" Heat crept up my cheeks at his words. Then he added, "Apart from my brain."

"You need to have it for me to eat it," I said, looking back into my sketchbook, hoping he couldn't hear the drumming of my heart.

"Would chips work?" he asked. His voice held amusement. I didn't dare look up.

"Yes," I replied curtly.

He slowly got up, and as he turned towards the door, Veer shouted in excitement. "I'm back!" He stood at the door in white overalls. His chubby cheeks were all red, probably from running.

"We can see that," Abhay said as he walked past him out of the room, ruffling his hair, which got him a glare from Veer. Veer ran towards me after his anger on his big brother vanished as soon as it came.

He sat beside me, peeking into my sketchbook. "Where did you disappear off to?" I asked, smiling.

"I wanted to wear my painting suit." He said, still looking into my sketchbook. "These are so pretty." His eyes held wonder, and it felt good to hear that.

"What do you think? Would these look good on the wall?" I asked.

"Yes. Can I also help?" He asked, his eyes round with hope. Again, how did anyone say no to this kid?

"Yes. I would need your help." I grinned. We discussed a bit more about my sketches. By discuss, I mean that I showed him my sketch as he jumped with excitement over it. Lastly, I turned back to the page I was sketching at.

"Like our garden!" he said enthusiastically, and I couldn't help but smile at his excitement.

Abhay walked back in with a tray holding a bowl of chips, a plate of cookies, and two glasses of juice. "What's all this excitement about?" he asked, setting the tray down on a nearby table.

"Riya di said I can help paint!" Veer declared proudly.

Abhay raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into the faintest hint of a smile. "You've been promoted to assistant, huh?"

Veer puffed up his chest. "I'm the best assistant. Right?" He looked at me.

"Absolutely," I said, sharing a conspiratorial grin with Veer before turning back to Abhay. "You might be out of a job."

Abhay shook his head but didn't argue. Instead, he leaned against the wall, watching us as Veer peppered me with questions about the colors and shapes we'd use.

We mixed some paints, and the three of us got ready to paint. I drew the outlines for the mural. So even they could fill it up. I enjoyed art as a solitary thing, but I couldn't deny the joy of creating art together. Colors, when mixed, create beautiful shades.

Veer held his paintbrush like a wand, practically vibrating with excitement as he pointed to the palette of soft yellows, pinks, and greens.

"Riya di, I want to paint the big yellow flower!" Veer announced, already dabbing his brush into the buttery shade of paint.

"Alright, let me show you how to do it," I said, kneeling beside him. "First, dab your brush into the yellow. Don't dip it all the way in, or it'll drip."

Veer obediently dabbed, but his brush came out loaded with way too much paint.

"Okay, now gently wipe off the extra on the edge of the bowl," I said, guiding his hand.

He followed my instructions, then beamed up at me. "Now what?"

"Now, you start with the petals. See how they curve outward? Try to follow that shape with your brush," I explained, drawing an arc in the air to show him.

He nodded, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he carefully painted the tulip's first petal. It was lopsided but charming.

"Not bad," I said with a grin. "But try to keep your strokes smooth, like this." I took another brush and demonstrated on a different flower. "It's all about the pressure, light for the edges, heavier for the center."

Abhay, who was leaning against the ladder behind us, let out a low chuckle. "Sounds like an art class."

"You could learn a thing or two," I shot back, handing him a brush.

"I'm not good at painting," he said, though he crouched beside me anyway. He dipped his brush into the pale pink paint and, to my surprise, started painting the flower with careful, deliberate strokes.

"Whoa, you're good at this!" I said, surprised.

"Beginner's luck," Abhay muttered, though a small, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.

I couldn't resist poking fun. "Not bad for someone who claims they can't paint."

Abhay raised a brow. "And not bad for someone who claims they're patient. I've heard you muttering 'stay inside the lines' at least three times already." Okay, I was a bit...stingy when it came to painting with people.

I ignored him and turned back to Veer, who was now painting grass at the base of the wall.

"Veer, remember what I told you. Grass grows upward, not sideways," I reminded him gently.

"But I'm making it wavy!" he protested, dragging a green stroke that veered diagonally.

"That's fine, but see how real grass moves?" I said, grabbing a blade from the paint-stained newspaper nearby and holding it up. "It bends at the top, but the base is straight. Try to copy that."

Veer squinted at the blade, then nodded seriously. He adjusted his strokes, and this time, the grass looked more natural. He was a fast learner.

"Amazing," I said, patting his head.

"Maybe we should hire Riya as an art teacher," Abhay teased, glancing up from his nearly finished flower.

"I'll take the job if you're my assistant," I shot back.

"Pass," he replied, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

By the time we were halfway through, the wall had transformed into a wildflower meadow. Buttercups, daisies, and sprigs of lavender swayed across the space, their colors blending softly. Veer insisted on adding tiny white flowers that looked like scattered stars, so I taught him how to make them with quick dabs of his brush. I liked this teaching thing.

"Just tap lightly. Don't press too hard, or it'll look like blobs instead of petals," I explained, guiding his hand.

"Like this?" he asked, his tongue peeking out as he concentrated.

"Perfect," I said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

"You missed a spot," Abhay said, leaning over to fix one of Veer's uneven blades of grass.

"Stop fixing my grass!" Veer shouted, splattering paint in the process. A few droplets landed on Abhay's arm.

"Careful," Abhay warned, his tone deceptively calm.

Veer froze for half a second before grinning mischievously and flicking his brush again. More paint splattered, this time on Abhay's black t-shirt, which turned into a colorful art piece.

"Veer," Abhay said, standing slowly.

Veer squealed and bolted, abandoning his paintbrush entirely. Abhay picked up some paintbrush and started chasing his brother across the room. I stood, rooted at my spot, taking it all in. Soaking up this version of him that I rarely saw. The version that came out only for people he loved. The softness that he pretended didn't exist inside him.

He picked Veer up, laughing with his heart out. His hair fell onto his face, and his eyes held joy. In the middle of his scruffing, he looked up, and our eyes met. A slow realization spread through me, like paint mixing with water. Like a ray of sunlight falling over a sapling in the middle of the forest. Like succumbing to the warmth of a perfectly cozy blanket. I was going to fall in love.

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This chapter is longer than usual. I wanted to capture the moment properly. 

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