Anaya
“It’s been five months since you made this reckless move, Anu!” Gauri snapped, “when are you coming back?”
“Not anytime soon,” Anaya replied calmly. Her mind was already rushing to go back to the new design she was working on. Gauri was her childhood friend, the only one who has been in her life since they could walk.
“And do what there exactly?” Gauri scoffed. “Sit alone in some tiny apartment pretending you’re in some coming of age movie?”
Anaya sighed softly and adjusted the phone on her work table while moving the cursor on her laptop to continue her editing.
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?” Gauri pressed. “You had a whole life here. A proper house, connections, people who knew you. You left all that because your relatives got annoying?”
Her fingers paused above the keyboard.
Annoying.
Right.
Because emotional suffocation apparently sounded dramatic when spoken aloud.
Gauri softened her voice a little. “I’m just worried about you, Anu. You’ve always been emotional and impulsive when things get hard.”
Anaya silently absorbed the words like she always did. Even if she did say that it hurt when her only friend spoke things like that, the result was always defense and tears.
“You know I’m saying this for your own good,” Gauri continued. “Italy sounds exciting now because it’s all new and distracting but eventually reality hits. And no offense babe, but Europeans aren’t exactly waiting around for some Indian girl to magically fit into their world.”
A small discomfort settled in Anaya’s chest. “You make it sound worse than it is,” she murmured, trying to not let the words cut something she was actively trying to sew.
“I’m being realistic,” Gauri replied instantly. “Someone has to be. Your parents spoiled you too much to see how harsh people actually are.”
The statement felt wrong somehow. The words were all too familiar. But her parents only ever treated her with love and kindness. Not once they had complained about her being spoiled as everyone kept reminding her. They taught her life skills, independence and most importantly to be kind even when the world turned harsh.
But in all this, had she misinterpreted? Was she too egoistic to accept what everyone else kept implying?
Before Anaya could think deeper into it, Gauri laughed lightly, changing her tone as if nothing happened.
“Anyway, enough depressing stuff. Did you atleast lose some weight after moving there? Walking around Europe should be useful for something.”
Anaya stared at her screen in silence for a second before forcing out a small laugh.
“I have to go, Gauri. It’s getting late.”
Kabir
The coffee shop glowed warmly against the cold Milan evening outside, all amber lights, dark wood and quiet jazz humming through hidden speakers. Conversations blended softly beneath the hiss of the espresso machine while rain tapped steadily against the massive glass windows lining the front wall.
Kabir sat alone in the corner booth nearest the window, one hand loosely wrapped around a cup of espresso that had gone cold twenty minutes ago.
His jaw tightened slightly as he stared outside.
Something about tonight felt wrong. Not wrong enough to panic, at least not yet anyway. But wrong enough to itch beneath his skin.
The investment scam should have worked smoothly. It always did. Months of preparation, fake portfolios, calculated meetings and carefully manufactured trust. Usually by now he would already be planning his next move.
Instead, he had spent the last hour replaying every conversation in his head.
A detail was missed. Their tone had gone slightly off. The question they asked twice.
His jaw clenched, he hated uncertainty.
Beside him, his burner phone lit briefly before another message disappeared from the screen.
Luca: You’re overthinking, dude.
He scoffed softly at the screen. People like him survived because they overthought.
His gaze drifted lazily toward the rain streaking across the glass before suddenly freezing. Two familiar men stepped out of a black car across the street. They were bodyguards posed as well dressed businessmen in those black suits. For one, their large build gave it away.
Kabir’s posture straightened almost instantly. Expensive irritation was written all over their faces.
Fuck.
He switched off his phone without wasting another minute.
One of the suits scanned the café through the glass window while speaking sharply into his phone. Kabir calmly picked up his cup before their eyes could reach him and stood without attracting attention.
Panic got people caught. Routine kept them invisible.
He walked deeper into the café with measured ease, passing warm yellow lights and intimate booths tucked between shelves of books and hanging plants. The farther back he moved, the quieter the café became until he reached the semi secluded garden section hidden from the main street view.
And that was when he saw her.
A woman sat alone near the corner table beneath a vine wrapped archway, completely unaware of the world around her. A coffee mug lay forgotten on the table next to a half eaten tiramisu.
Long dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders while soft fairy lights glowed above her head. She wore an oversized cream sweater that looked comfortable enough to sleep in and her entire focus remained locked onto the tablet propped against a sugar jar in front of her.
Kabir slowed slightly.
She looked...real. That was the only word that popped up in his head without meaning to.
But she seemed not polished in a way he was used to or expected to see in the world he lived in. She definitely didn’t seem to be pretending anything.
Not performing for anyone. Just deeply invested in what appeared to be a personal war against soft blue yarn.
His eyes dropped to the crochet hook clutched aggressively in her hand.
“…this shouldn’t be this hard,” she grumbled under her breath.
Kabir almost smiled.
Without thinking much about it, he slid into the empty seat opposite her, positioning himself where the outside window no longer had visibility.
The woman looped the yarn once more with intense concentration before her brows furrowed. She sighed in frustration and slowly, very slowly, she looked up.
And gasped.
Not dramatically. She was genuinely startled.
Her entire body jerked slightly in shock while her eyes widened at him like she could not understand when another human being had suddenly materialized across from her.
Kabir had seen every type of reaction to himself before.
Interest.
Suspicion.
Attraction.
Calculation.
But this?
This looked painfully close to a buffering system rebooting itself.
For two silent seconds she simply stared at him. Wide eyed, a deer caught in the lights.
Then her eyes flicked around the almost empty café before returning to him again like she was trying to confirm he was actually sitting there.
He leaned back slightly in the chair, amused despite himself.
“Please continue,” he said smoothly, glancing toward the tangled yarn in her hands. “You seemed close to defeating it.”
A faint flush crept onto her sunlit brown cheeks.
And for some reason Kabir found that far more distracting than he should have.
❦❦❦
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