Winter was coming. The temperatures had slowly started to low down. It was mid-October already. The heat had started to subside, making the weather pleasant and not humid.

I was in high spirits throughout the week. Ever since I heard from my father, nothing could ruin my mood. Dad and I even talked on the phone now and then. It was all so new and sudden. But I was finally at peace. All my doubts, my apprehensions were coming to an end.

We were sat in my bedroom. Andrew and I were trying to give tune to a song. I was sitting on the floor, cross legged, holding the sitar with my hands.

"Wait, wait, wait. Play that again," Andrew commanded from where he was sitting on my bed. I stopped strumming the strings and started the tune once more. I played it slowly as Andrew closed his eyes, nodding along the music.

"Okay, stop." He said. I stopped playing and looked at him.

"Gā mā dhā, sā nī . . . wait, this part is not sounding right." He murmured to himself and erased the line, scribbling something else.

"Alright," he said and held up the paper in the air. "Go like this. Gā mā dhā, sā dhā pā."

I played the notes just like he instructed and looked at him in triumph when it started sounding better than before. "That's good! This is so much better."

"Yep." He smiled. "Okay, now let's take it once more from the beginning."

We went on with it for about an hour before my fingers started paining from playing the sitar for too long.

"One last time, please," Andrew practically begged when I had started complaining. "I need to hear if it sounds good with the beat or not. This is the first time we're putting sitar into our songs, it's gonna be tricky."

"Andrew. . ." I whined. Then gave out a deep sigh. "Oof. Okay, fine. One last time, and then I'm done. I need a hand massage."

He gave me grateful smile and dashed out of the room. I stretched my neck, hearing it crack. Sitting on the floor for almost two hours with a sitar in my arms hadn't helped my already aching back.

Andrew came back a few minutes later. We didn't have a drum set in our house, but we did have a pair of drum sticks, and I had no idea how they had come to stay here.

"And where are you going to play it?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Um. . ." He looked around the room before his eyes landed on the wooden table beside my bed. His eyes lit up and he pointed at the table. "There!"

I looked at him in surprise. "Andrew. You're going to break it. Or at least, leave nasty marks on it."

He shook his head, smiling. "Nah. Nothing like that will happen, you just see."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, okay, whatever. Just–make it fast."

Andrew positioned himself in front of the table and waved his hand at me. "Begin."

I looked at the notation once before I started strumming to the first sargam. I carefully played the tune, making sure to not make any mistake. Andrew was nodding along.

He started banging the drum sticks on the table. I tried not to flinch, scared about the damage it was causing to the wood, but we had no other option. But on the brighter side, the arrangement was sounding pretty good.

Andrew looked at me as he kept on nodding along the beat, his soft curls flying around his head. I grinned at him, loving the music that was being created. I closed my eyes, my eyebrows furrowed in concentration once I reached an energetic part of the music piece we had just created.

My fingers ran swiftly along the strings, plucking them at the right places as I shook my head to the rhythm. The piece slowly came to an end and Andrew stopped banging the sticks against my table. I played the last few notes and finished it.

I opened my eyes and let out a hoot. "That was amazing!"

"It was, wasn't it?" He grinned at me. Suddenly, he dropped the sticks and flopped down on the bed, sprawling his arms against the breadth of it. I set down the sitar gently on the floor and crawled up on the bed myself.

Placing my head on his outstretched hand, I looked at him.

"This was just the first two stanzas." I said.

"Uh huh."

"And we've got the entire song to make."

"Uh huh."

I sighed and looked at the ceiling. "That's tiring."

"Yes."

He took my hands in his and gently massaged circles along my palms. I sighed once more as I felt the tension slowly release from my hands.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"No problem." He simply replied. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Yeah," I yawned a little. "Some coffee would be nice."

"'Kay, I'm on it." He said and leaned forward, leaving a tiny kiss on my forehead. It surprised me a bit, but he was was gone before I could think about it.

My phone buzzed beside me on the bed. I picked it up to find an incoming text from Felix. I smiled and opened it.

Hey hey.

I had an amused expression on my face as I replied back.

What what??

Guess what

Ehh.... too lazy. What is itt

I watched as the tiny text bubble with three dots appeared and disappeared on my screen before his reply finally came.

My whole family is going to this fancy party tomorrow so I have the whole to myself

I creased my eyebrows. Oh? And you're not going?

Nah. Not really into fancy parties n stuff.

Hah. Can't blame u

Soo what about it?

I was thinking if you wanted to have that house tour..... ?

Ooh. Nice. Wait lemme check my schedule.

I quickly glanced through my schedule to find that I was free the next day.

Hey, I'm free :) let me ask Andrew once he loves these kinda stuff too

Oh.... k.

His reply felt strange to me but I didn't think about it much. Andrew walked in the room at the perfect timing, holding two cups of steaming coffee.

"Here's your cappuccino, ma'am," he said mockingly as he offered me the cup. I giggled.

"Why, thanks, kind sir."

He gave me a cheeky smile and sat across me, blowing off the steam. I hesitated a little bit before asking him, "hey, Felix just texted me—remember I told you about his mansion? He wants me go over tomorrow to give me a tour. You wanna come?"

He stopped his actions and fixed his eyes on me. "Felix?"

"Um, yeah. . ."

"Huh." He let out a breath, giving a short laugh. "Nope." He popped the 'p'.

"Right." I drawled out, rolling my eyes. "Forgot you had an immense hatred towards him."

He shrugged.

"I'm still going to go, so if you change your mind, tell me?"

"Sure."

He had grown quiet all of a sudden, his replies coming short. I tilted my head at him, wondering why he always gave this reaction whenever Felix came up between us.

He caught me staring and raised an eyebrow. "Drink the coffee before it goes cold."

I retracted. "Geez, okay."

And I sipped my coffee.

• • •

"Sa re ga ma pa dha ni sa" is the basis of indian classical music. It is similar to "do re mi fa so la ti do" in western classical music.

Next chapter - next Wednesday at 10pm IST.