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Hello My Gummy Bears🧸

I hope you all are doing well.

I know many of you have been eagerly awaiting this chapter, and I truly hope you enjoy it. 

I apologize for the significant delay. I had a busy period with exams, followed by festival celebrations, another competitive exam, and a trip out of town for a wedding. Upon my return, I struggled to find the motivation to write. However, I remembered how patiently my readers were waiting for an update, and that inspired me to finish.

So, let's begin now My Gummies🧸

Happy Reading.🤗

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Aarav's POV.

I was waiting for her near my car. As the main door opened and she stepped out, my heart hammered to a halt. I couldn't draw a breath, my body locked in place.

Sweet lord, Right in this moment it felt like the universe winked at me and whispered 'This is it, go for it' If there was ever a time to believe that there's something between a dream and a miracle then it's "HER".

she was wearing a Red short dress, sculpted to her curves, accented by a pendant, bracelet, and high heels. A black bag hung from her shoulder. She walked close to me snapping me out of my reverie and said, "Hii!!!"

"These are for you," I offered, pushing the pink roses towards her. The florist's suggestion, after she noticed my... indecision.

"Thank you, it's so pretty," she said, her smile widening as she smelled the flowers. And that smile, I thought, was prettier than any flower.

After opening the passenger side door and seeing her settled comfortably, I closed it gently and slid into the driver's seat, starting the car.

The ride settled into a comfortable silence, her gaze a soft weight on me, while I stole glances of my own. Aditya, that... guy, had specifically ordered me to bring Adwitya to his restaurant, no detours allowed. He'd even hung up before I could argue, which, frankly, pissed me off. I parked, then opened her door, offering my hand. Her small hand slipped into mine, and she stepped out, a shy smile playing on her lips as she glanced down at our joined hands.

We entered, and the manager, who recognized me from my many visits with Aditya, led us to the garden as I'd requested. The atmosphere was enchanting. A sweet, floral scent filled the air, carried by a gentle, cool breeze. Twinkling fairy lights cast a soft glow, and slow, melodic music played in the background. We had the garden entirely to ourselves. I turned to her, and she stood there, radiating a quiet beauty that made the moment feel almost magical. A soft, contented smile graced her lips. I pulled out her chair, and as she settled into it, I took my own seat. She looks so peaceful, I thought, a warmth spreading through me.

"I hope you like it here. Aditya owns this place, and I really enjoy coming here," I said, eager to hear her voice

"It's beautiful, I like it here the atmosphere is nice," she said with a small smile. The soft curve of her lips as she spoke made the place feel warmer. 

 "How's your job search?" I asked, genuinely curious. A wave of excitement washed over her. "You know, after coming from Jaipur, I went to a lot of companies for interviews, and I'm confident that I will get a job real soon!" she said, her voice quickening with enthusiasm.

"It was all Anshii and Jiju, their wedding, their happiness. Everyone was so caught up in it. And then, just like that, the tables turned. Suddenly, it was all about me. 'When's your turn, Adwitya? What kind of wedding do you want?' They were teasing, of course, but..." Her voice faded, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, "...I didn't realize I was... saying that out loud."

"And what kind of wedding are you envisioning?" I questioned, my heart doing a little flip.

"Y...You should not tease me," she said softly, her eyes averted, a flush creeping up her neck. God, she is adorable.

"Why do you think I'm teasing you?" I asked, my eyes locked on hers.

"Because.........", she looked up at me and stopped, the words dying on her lips. A heavy silence settled between us, and I could see the emotions swirling in her eyes.

"'Because,......" I echoed, leaning in, hoping she'd say more.

"Because... I've always dreamed of a wedding that honors our traditions, you know? Not just the big ceremonies, but all the little things. The haldi, all that joyous chaos with the turmeric. The mehndi, those delicate designs and the heady fragrance of henna. The sangeet, the music, the laughter... I want a wedding where family is the heart, where every ritual means something, where we're enveloped in the love and blessings of everyone we hold dear. It's not that I don't get modern weddings, but... I want something that feels deeply anchored in our culture, a connection to our ancestors, our families, something as special as what my grandparents and parents shared," she said, her eyes lit with a passion that made me understand.

My heart swelled, a wave of warmth washing over me. This was it. This is the girl I am going to marry. "Adwitya," I said, my voice thick with emotion, "a traditional wedding is beautiful. It's perfect." And I meant every single word. I couldn't imagine anything more perfect than celebrating our wedding surrounded by the traditions and family she so clearly cherished.

She smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that reached her eyes and stole my breath. Completely captivated, I watched her. Her eyes flicked down to my lips, a fleeting touch, before returning to mine. The air crackled, thick with unspoken desire. I wanted to reach across the table, pull her closer, but I held back, wanting to savor this moment. Just as the tension reached a fever pitch, the waitress arrived with the order I'd placed earlier, a jarring interruption. Her gaze, a silent invitation, made it impossible to resist the urge to close the distance between us and claim those lips as mine.

The waitress leaned close, her face hovering just above the table, and began to speak. I didn't register a word, my attention fixed elsewhere. Disappointment flickered across her features. Then, a sweet smile spread across my girl's face, a stark contrast to the venomous Spanish that followed: "Vete, perra de cara de plástico." (Go away, you plastic-face bitch.) She clearly assumed I wouldn't understand. I choked back a laugh. The waitress, taken aback, straightened up and asked, 'What?' 

"We're fine, thanks," my girl purred, her voice dripping with sugary dismissal. "You can go now." The waitress, clearly rattled, forced a tight smile and retreated, completely unaware of the blade hidden in the sweetness. I watched her go, a slow smirk spreading across my face. My girl's sweetness was a weapon, and the waitress had just been cut deep.

Once she was out of earshot, I raised an eyebrow. "What other Languages do you speak?"

"Just Spanish and French," she replied, a faint echo of jealousy still clinging to her voice. The memory of her possessiveness, so raw and immediate, flashed through my mind. Then, her gaze softened, drifting towards the food. A small smile played on her lips, and her eyes spoke volumes. "We should eat," she suggested.

I began serving us, ignoring her gentle protests. I wouldn't have her lift a finger, not when she was with me.

I made sure we had a variety: Creamy Parmesan Carbonara Chicken, Baked Rigatoni with Sausage and Ricotta, White Chicken and Spinach Pesto Lasagna Rolls, Ricotta and fresh mozzarella stuffed rigatoni over vodka sauce with sausage crumbles, and Torta Tenerina to finish.

"These are all my favourites, how do you know?", she questioned.

Flashback Starts:

Later, in the car heading to Jaipur's City Palace...

"What's your Favorite cuisine, Bhabhi?" Aavya questioned.

"Indian and Italian," she replied.

"Indian and Chinese," Anaaya countered. "We siblings all seem to have the same taste."

"What do you love most about Italian food, Bhabhi?" Aavya asked.

"So many things," Adwitya began, "but the top would be Baked Rigatoni with Sausage and Ricotta, White Chicken and Spinach Pesto Lasagna Rolls, Creamy Parmesan Carbonara Chicken, Ricotta and fresh mozzarella stuffed rigatoni over vodka sauce with sausage crumbles, and Torta Tenerina."

I pretended to focus on the road, but every word she spoke registered, a detailed inventory of her favorite dishes. Who was I kidding? My attention had been fixed on her since our first meeting.

Flashback Ends.

Adwitya's POV.

"Umm..." My question hung in the air, unfinished, as a waiter arrived with our drinks. The clinking glasses and the waiter's departure seemed to erase it entirely from my mind. "The food's getting cold," he said, and suddenly, my question was lost in the moment.

After dinner, we walked side by side toward the parking lot. Once settled in the car, we headed home. As we passed the ice cream place, I turned to him. "Could you pull over?" I said. He stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Ice cream," I stated, as if it were a given.

"No, we're not getting ice cream, Adwitya," he stated firmly.

Wait, did he just say no? "But I want ice cream," I protested, my voice barely a whisper.

"You can't," he repeated, his eyes still on the road.

"Why not?" I challenged, a hint of defiance creeping in.

"Because it's the start of winter, and you'll get sick," he replied, his tone brooking no argument. He continued driving, leaving me to fume in silence.

"Hey, this is..." I trailed off, words failing me, and slumped in my seat. He shot me a sharp, 'No means no' look, and I huffed in response. After a silent drive, he pulled over near the lake. 'Be right back,' he muttered, disappearing into the darkness. I was too busy simmering over the denied ice cream to pay attention to where he went. I stomped towards the water, plopping down on a bench. The moonlit sky, reflected in the lake, was breathtaking, but even that couldn't completely soothe my ice-cream-deprived mood.

Five minutes ticked by before he finally appeared, something nestled in his hands. Initially, I thought it was ice cream, but no. He placed it on the bench, then revealed its contents. 'Adwitya, hum aapke liye ras malai laye hain. Main nahi chahta ki aap ice cream kha kar beemar ho jayein.' (Adwitya, I brought ras malai for you. I don't want you to get sick from eating ice cream.)

My stomach clenched. Oh, the sweet temptation! But I stubbornly turned my face away, fighting the urge to snatch it and devour it all.

'These are the best here,' he murmured, his voice soft enough to melt glaciers.

'Humein nahi khana, aap khaiye,' (I don't want any, you have it) I retorted, refusing to look at him.

My childish tantrum, predictably, went nowhere. Then, he did the unthinkable. He took my hand, and I turned, stunned. Before I could stammer a protest – if my voice had even obeyed – he slipped a spoonful of Ras Malai into my mouth. The sweetness dissolved on my tongue, and I finally found my voice, albeit a whisper. "Hey, this isn't fair. You can't feed me like I'm a child."

"I can," he countered, his eyes holding mine, "like I'm doing now."

"What?" I managed, only to have another bite thrust into my mouth. "Aap bhaut..." (You're very...) I tried again, but he leaned closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Kya bhaut...? Bura hu? Aur aap Adwitya, bachhi hi hai." (What very...? Mean? And you, Adwitya, are still a child.) He gently dabbed a smear of Ras Malai onto my nose, then burst into laughter.

I scrunched my nose, wiping it off. "Aarav ji... Hum aapko chhodenge nahi! Aapne humari naak pe Ras Malai laga di!" (Aarav ji... I won't spare you! You got Ras Malai on my nose!) I grabbed the other spoon, dipped it into the Ras Malai, and lunged playfully, intending to retaliate. But I ended up too close, our eyes locking. My heart hammered against my ribs, the sudden proximity stealing my breath.

Time seemed to freeze. God, his laugh... it was like music, a melody that resonated deep within me, just like his eyes and his voice. I took a hasty step back. "We should... finish these," I stammered, my voice betraying the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat. The closeness was too much, my pulse pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it too."

We sat, gazing at the moon, the sweet taste of Ras Malai lingering. For a heartbeat, the world dissolved, leaving only the silver glow and his presence. I watched him, a soft smile playing on his lips, as if the moon held all the answers he sought. How could he, I wondered, outshine even that celestial beauty? Then, his voice, a gentle murmur, broke the silence. 'Chand ko dekhyeh, Adwitya, hume nahi.' (Look at the moon, Adwitya, not me.) My gaze snapped to the lake, where our reflections, side by side, mirrored the moon's serene light. A blush, hot and sudden, flooded my cheeks. I'd been caught, my eyes betraying my thoughts.

After a comfortable silence, he asked, 'Chalein?' (Shall we go?) I nodded, and we returned to the car. A quiet smile played on my lips as we drove. The car finally pulled up in front of my house. I didn't want the night to end, not yet. He came around, opening my door. I stepped out, turned to face him, and simply said, "Bye." I started toward the porch, but he called my name, "Adwitya." I froze. That name, his voice—it was a dangerous combination. I turned back. "You were beautiful tonight," he said, and a silly, delighted smile spread across my face. My cheeks burned, a childish blush betraying me.

"You looked good too," I managed, a quick, almost breathless reply. He smiled, a flash of white teeth, and said, "Bye." Then I clicked the door shut, and the powerful growl of his engine filled the street. Turning, I found my family, all eyes on me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. Clearly, the tea was about to be served—with a side of interrogation.

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And with that, the longest chapter yet. Time for a breather. 😮‍💨

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Love Aaviah❤️