"You're my most beautiful someone..................."

The night wrapped around Shubhita and Vatsal as they sprawled on their mattresses, the soft glow of the fairy lights flickering above them. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that came from shared moments of laughter and the familiarity of each other’s presence. Vatsal was engrossed in his phone, while Shubhita doodled aimlessly in her journal.

Shubhita's thoughts drifted to the future, a realm she often avoided but found herself considering more frequently. She watched Vatsal, the way the light caught the edge of his jaw, the concentration in his brow. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and he glanced up.

“Everything okay?” he asked, marking his place in the book.

“Yeah, just… thinking,” she replied, biting the tip of her pen. “About stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” He leaned back, a teasing smile on his face. “Are you really thinking about stuff other than washing dishes and folding laundry?”

“How brutal!” She chuckled, but the laughter didn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe something a bit more serious.”

Vatsal raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Serious? You mean like… world domination?”

“Maybe something like what we want… you know, for the future,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper as if saying the words aloud might make them real.

He looked at her, the teasing glint fading. “Future, huh? That sounds intense. What do you mean exactly?”

“I don’t know.” Shubhita fidgeted with the pen. “Like… where do we see ourselves in a few years? Together, apart, who knows?”

“Hmm,” he said, scratching his head as if pondering a deep philosophical question. “I mean, ideally, I’d love to be somewhere… you know, not stuck in a nine-to-five grind. Maybe a cozy little café by the beach?” He flashed a playful grin.

“Sure, that sounds nice,” she replied, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in her tone that he couldn’t quite grasp. “But what about us? Do we just keep this casual?”

Vatsal shifted, feeling the weight of her words. “Well, what does ‘us’ mean to you?”

“Us- can have a lot of meanings.”

The silence hung heavy between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Shubhita took a deep breath, willing herself to dive deeper. “I guess I just… I don’t want to wake up one day and realize we didn’t talk about it. About what we want, about where we’re heading.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “That’s fair. But sometimes it feels safer not to plan, you know? What if we talk about it, and it doesn’t match?”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to match perfectly,” she replied, a spark of determination lighting her eyes. “We’re allowed to change, to grow.”

“Right. But growth can be… scary.” He leaned closer, vulnerability etched on his face. “I mean, what if we want different things? What if… what if I want to travel and you want to settle down? Or vice versa?”

Shubhita hesitated, contemplating the possibilities. “Then we find a way to meet in the middle. Compromise, I guess? What say?”

“Agreed,” Vatsal said, a hint of relief washing over him. “So, what do you envision?”

She smiled nervously, her heart racing. “I want a balance, I think. A life where we support each other’s dreams, even if they don’t look the same. I want adventures, but I also want a home—a place we can call ours.”

Vatsal’s expression softened, and for a moment, they shared a space that felt more than just friendship. “That sounds… nice,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like building a life together, wherever that might lead us.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, feeling warmth flood her cheeks. “Not everything has to be planned out, but knowing we’re in it together makes it feel more... secure. Our own little home, someday… And maybe… our own little family someday?…”

“Our own little family?” he repeated, his eyes widening. “Like, uh, you mean… children?”

“Umm,” she said, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “You know, eventually? Maybe? I just… I don’t know.” Her voice trailed off into uncertainty.

Vatsal cleared his throat, a nervous laugh escaping him. “Wow, that’s, um, unexpected. I mean, I haven’t really thought about that yet. I mean… kids? Us? That’s a lot.”

“Right? A lot!” she exclaimed, a slight panic bubbling up inside her. “I didn’t mean to throw that at you. I just thought…”

“Thought what?” He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s kind of wild, don’t you think?”

“Wild! Yes, exactly!” she replied, trying to laugh along but feeling the tension rise. “I mean, it’s not like I’m ready to start a family tomorrow. It was just an idea.”

“An idea,” he echoed, nodding too quickly. “Right. An idea.”

They fell into an awkward silence, both lost in their thoughts. Shubhita picked at her doodles, her heart racing. She could feel the tension wrapping around them like an uncomfortable blanket.

Vatsal shifted on his mattress, the silence hanging between them thick and heavy. He glanced at her, unsure of how to bridge the gap that suddenly felt wider than it had moments before.

“So…” he began, his voice hesitant, “you’ve really been thinking about all this? The future, a home… maybe even a family?”

Shubhita swallowed hard, nodding slightly. “Not all the time, but yeah, sometimes it crosses my mind. Not in a ‘let’s do it right now’ way, but more like… it’s a possibility down the line. You know?”

Vatsal let out a breath, his gaze shifting to the ceiling. “I get that,” he murmured. “It’s just… it feels like a lot to think about. I mean, we haven’t even really defined what we are, and now we’re talking about families and all that.”

Shubhita winced. “I know. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that. I just—sometimes my mind goes to places I don’t even mean for it to go.” She laughed awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe I’ve just been watching too many rom-coms.”

He chuckled, though the tension didn’t completely lift. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. Thinking ahead. I’m just not sure I’m there yet… mentally, I mean.”

“I didn’t expect you to be,” she reassured him quickly. “I didn’t even expect to say that out loud. It just… slipped.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Vatsal rolled onto his side to face her, propping himself up on one elbow.

They had always managed to keep things light between them—banter, jokes, shared silences—but this… this was new. He glanced at Shubhita, who was now furiously scribbling something in her journal, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to make it awkward. I’m just… processing, I guess.”

Shubhita looked up, her eyes searching his face for reassurance. “I get it. It’s not exactly easy to talk about the future, right? I don’t even know why I brought it up. I feel like I don’t want to scare you away by thinking too far ahead. I mean, I don’t even know what I want half the time.”

Vatsal chuckled softly, a gentle warmth in his voice. “Trust me, you’re not scaring me away. I think about the future too. Not in detail, not like five-year plans or anything, but I do wonder sometimes… about us.”

Shubhita blinked, caught off guard by his admission. “You do?”

“Of course. How could I not? I mean, look at us,” he said, gesturing around the room. “We’ve got this thing… whatever it is. It’s real, even if we don’t label it or map it out. And I like it, you know?”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I like it too.”

Vatsal reached out, his hand hovering just above hers, as if unsure whether to close the distance. “I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out. I don’t. But I’m here. With you. And maybe that’s enough for now.”

She looked down at their almost-touching hands, her breath catching in her throat. “Yeah, maybe it is.”

For a moment, the tension that had wrapped around them earlier seemed to dissolve, replaced by something quieter, more tender. Vatsal gave her a soft smile, and Shubhita felt a strange sense of calm settle over her.

“So, no kids tomorrow?” Vatsal joked lightly, breaking the moment with a grin.

Shubhita laughed, rolling her eyes. “No, definitely not tomorrow. Maybe a dog first?”

“A dog sounds like a safer option,” he agreed, the playful spark returning to his eyes. “I think we could handle that.”

“Good,” she said, her voice lightening. “Then it’s settled—no major life decisions tonight. We’ll start with a dog.”

He nodded, the mood lifting once again. “Deal.”

Vatsal leaned back against the pillows, still smiling from their brief banter about getting a dog. The weight of the conversation they had just shared about their future still lingered in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts. His gaze shifted back to Shubhita, who had returned to her journal, though her fingers now fidgeted nervously with the pen.

An idea crept into his mind, and a mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. He decided to push the envelope a little, not with the dog talk, but with the other thing—the bigger, scarier, future thing. He wouldn’t say it directly, not yet. He’d leave her guessing, testing her, teasing her. He knew she’d fluster easily, and he found himself looking forward to seeing her reaction.

“So, about that other thing we were talking about…” he began casually, his voice low and deliberate.

Shubhita’s heart skipped. She was still reeling from how she had let slip the idea of a family. Her cheeks already felt warm, and she could sense the conversation taking another turn. She met his eyes nervously. “What… thing?” she asked, though she knew exactly what.

Vatsal’s expression remained unreadable, serious even, but the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. He shifted closer to her, just enough to close some of the distance, making her feel his presence more. “You know… the other thing. Not the dog.”

Shubhita swallowed hard, her fingers gripping her journal tighter. Her eyes darted away from his, focusing on the light overhead, trying to compose herself. “Oh… that.” Her voice came out small.

Vatsal edged even closer, his elbow now resting on the mattress just beside her. He tilted his head slightly, studying her face, and his voice lowered just a touch, making the space between them feel even more intimate. “Yeah, that.” His lips curved into a barely-there smile, but his eyes held steady, locking onto hers, daring her to keep up. “Seems like you’ve been thinking about it a lot more than you’re letting on.”

Shubhita’s pulse quickened. Her mind raced, trying to find a way to navigate the conversation without completely unravelling. “I-I mean…” she stammered, eyes still fixed on the lights as if they could somehow save her. “It was just… something that popped into my head. Not like… you know.”

Vatsal’s gaze never wavered. He stayed silent, letting her squirm under the weight of her own words. He leaned a little closer, his breath warm against her skin, watching her cheeks flush deeper. “Not like what?” he asked softly, his tone calm, almost coaxing.

She dared to glance at him then, but quickly regretted it. He was too close now, his serious, unreadable expression making her nerves go haywire. His nearness was overwhelming, and the air between them thickened. “Not like… I meant it… seriously or anything,” she mumbled, her voice nearly a whisper, but she could feel the heat creeping up her neck.

Vatsal hummed, leaning in just slightly more, close enough that their faces were mere inches apart. “Hmm. Didn’t seem like it was just a passing thought, though,” he said, his voice still low, still serious. “I mean… a family, Shubhita? That’s a big thing to mention.”

She couldn’t find any words now, her throat tight with embarrassment. The way he said ‘family’ made her stomach flip. Was he teasing her? No, it didn’t feel like the light-hearted teasing she was used to. This felt different, heavier. She pressed her lips together, trying to control her growing fluster.

Vatsal’s lips twitched, though he kept his composure, thoroughly enjoying how her face grew redder by the second. He wasn’t being overly playful or mischievous now, but the seriousness in his tone had its own effect, pulling her deeper into her own awkwardness. He shifted closer again, his knee brushing against hers, subtle, but enough to make her stiffen.

“So… our own little family someday, huh?” he said, his voice smooth, soft, yet unmistakably teasing, though not in a laugh-it-off kind of way. His expression remained calm, but the glint in his eyes revealed he was savouring every second of this.

Shubhita’s heart pounded in her chest. Her journal sat abandoned beside her as she struggled to keep her breathing steady. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. The way he was looking at her, the way his voice seemed to wrap around her like a trap, left her utterly disarmed. She turned her gaze to the side, desperately trying to escape the weight of his eyes on her. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…” she faltered, cheeks burning.

Vatsal chuckled softly, though it was low, barely audible. He leaned closer still, his arm brushing hers, and now his face was just near enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath. “Shubhita,” he murmured, his tone both tender and teasing at once. “You’re really not good at hiding when you’re flustered, you know?”

Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened slightly as she finally turned to face him. His face was so close, and her stomach flipped again. “I’m not flustered,” she muttered, her voice too shaky to be convincing.

“Oh, really?” Vatsal’s smile widened, just barely, as his eyes flickered down to her lips for a second before meeting her gaze again. “So, if I were to say… maybe we should start planning for that family… in a few years, months or even days…,” he said, the words slow and deliberate, “you wouldn’t be… freaking out right now?”

Shubhita’s eyes went wide, her face a brilliant shade of red. “Vatsal!” she gasped, finally pulling her hand up to cover her face, completely overwhelmed by his words and the proximity. She felt like her heart was going to explode. “You’re just—no! What are you even saying?”

He laughed softly this time, his hand hovering just near her wrist, not touching but close enough that she could feel the warmth. “Relax,” he said, though his voice remained serious, “I’m just saying… Just the way you said it – ‘Not like… I meant it… seriously or anything’…”

Shubhita peeked at him through her fingers, completely undone by his deadpan delivery. She was so flustered she didn’t know what to say, her mind a jumble of thoughts, but none of them forming into coherent words. “You’re impossible,” she mumbled.

Vatsal finally leaned back, giving her a little space, though the smile remained in his eyes. “Maybe,” he conceded, watching her closely, still enjoying the way her cheeks glowed with embarrassment. He studied her for a moment longer, admiring the way her lips parted as she tried to collect herself, how her eyelashes fluttered when she avoided his gaze. There was something so incredibly endearing about her shyness—how she couldn’t hide it no matter how hard she tried.

“I wasn’t trying to scare you,” he said quietly, “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“Well, congratulations,” she muttered, her voice still shaky but filled with a bit more warmth now. “You definitely succeeded.”

He chuckled softly, lying back on his mattress, hands behind his head. “Good to know I can still keep you on your toes.”

“Dream on, Ms Dreamy Diva!”, Shubhita rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t shake the blush that clung to her cheeks. As she settled back beside him, her heart still racing, she couldn’t help but feel that the conversation, though awkward, had brought them closer. Even if neither of them was ready to say the words out loud, the possibility of a future together—whatever that might mean—had started to feel a little more real.