Mariam

10 years old

My favourite part about the summer holidays will forever be visiting my cousins. It was bad enough not to have a sibling of your own, and living far away from your family as a whole just makes it so much worse. It feels like I'm missing out on an important part of my life. So when summer rolls around every year, I practically beg my dad to visit Dadi and the rest of the family.

Dad is the youngest of the three Khan brothers, so naturally he's the most loved, not only by his parents but also by his brothers. I guess that love comes naturally for me as well, being the second youngest of the family, along with Inaya.

The concept of love is very openly discussed between me and my parents. I remember hearing their love story as my bedtime tale since I was a baby and I still love listening to them talk about it. I'm still young for love, as a ten-year-old, the thing I love most is my dad but when I grow up, I hope I'll find my person like Mom and Dad found there.

My cousin was very crazy. Out of 4 Khan children, I think only two are sane — me and Inaya. That sounds funny considering that we're the younger bunch.

Aayan Bhaiya is not considered crazy by me, I could never, it's just what I always hear my grandmother and aunt call him. Being the oldest son and the only boy in the family restricts you from having even an ounce of fun. He's only a few years older than me yet it seems as if a million responsibilities have already been set on his shoulders.

Anvi Didi, whom I only call by name because she insisted so, is the one who brings all this craziness into play. If nuisance had a name, it would be Anvi. Want to blow up something in the kitchen? Anvi is the perfect partner. Want to piss off your grandparent? Anvi will come up with something brilliant. Want to mess up without even trying? Anvi is your person!

As much as she is insane, she still has a kind heart, she's the kind of sister who would help u not caring how it will affect her in the future. She's with us in our rights, but she's there for us in our wrongs.

Inaya was someone opposite of Anvi. Instead of being extroverted and outspoken like her brother and cousin, she was quieter, more timid, and rarely spoke unless asked to. She was the ideal granddaughter according to my Dadi ji. One who would grow up to be the perfect bride.

If I had to compare myself to my cousins, if had to describe myself (which I'm not the best at) it would be all their qualities combined. I'm quiet, but not as much as Inaya. I speak my mind, like Anvi, but without it being too outspoken. I hold as much responsibility as I'm given, but it can never be compared to that of Aayan.

Speaking of summer holidays, it's not just my cousins whom I visit, but also their friends. The Rajvanshi are friends of not only my uncles but also my dad. Mr Rajvanshi has been close with Dad since before I was even born.

Kyra, their older daughter is the same age as me, and honestly, the one person I'd consider to be my twin. If you'd compare our personalities you wouldn't find the slightest difference. We both know how chaotic we are with each other. She's the one person I look forward to seeing every year for these two months of break.

It's unfair how the people we trust and love the most often end up miles away from us. Even if I wanted to, I never asked Dad about moving back in with our grandparents—I knew how much he loved Mumbai, far more than Delhi.

I smile happily as I step done from the taxi, my hands clenching onto the small stuffed toy I had travelled with from my house. It was the one Anvi's mom had gotten for me when it was my 8th birthday, since then I never go anywhere without it.

"Mariam," I hear someone squeal my name before I look up to find my cousins standing at the main door of the gigantic Khan mansion.

I look up, scanning the building of the house as I stare in fascination. The mansion was divided into three parts, each belonging to one of the brothers. Since Dad's house was empty here, it had been occupied by my grandparents.

I feel a gentle hand stroke my hair and I look up to find Dad standing beside me, "Go ahead Riri, they've been waiting for you the whole day," he says softly, pointing towards my cousins.

I smile, hearing my nickname, before running along the pathway leading towards the doors, where Anvi and Aayan stood side by side, with a young Inaya peeking from behind them.

"Teko pata hai hum subha se tera wait kar rahe hai?!" Anvi exclaims and opens her arms before she catches me in a tight hug. I return the hug with the same amount of warmth before nodding my head.

"I missed you guys so much," I whisper. Aayan lets out a soft chuckle before ruffling my hair out of habit. He places his arms around us both, Inaya joining along with him and we all let out fits of giggles from joy and affection.

...

From what I gathered from Anvi's hour-long catching-up rant, a new family had moved in this year. Coincidentally, they also ran a business of their own, which meant they got acquainted with my uncles fairly quickly.

The Khuranas, as Anvi, so kindly informed me, were a family of four. Mr and Mrs Khurana had two sons—one the same age as Anvi and the other a few years older. My cousins had hit it off with them almost instantly, spending time at each other's houses and even going out together like they'd known each other for years. Unfortunately, they had gone on a family trip for the summer, so Anvi said she wouldn't be able to introduce us before I went back home.

...

The summer vacations pass fairly quickly, with days spent playing around with not only my cousins but also Kyra and her siblings. We all went on movie dates and even had ice cream while the sun burned the ground outside. I was going to miss this like I always did. This togetherness, this affection I felt with them, I had never felt with anyone else.

I frown as I squeeze Kyra into another hug, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. She had always been a crybaby.

"I'll miss you so much Mari, why do you have to go?" She sniffs, her voice cracking.

I rub her back softly, swaying her along with me as I whisper in response, "We'll video call every weekend, I promise. I'll miss you too, so so much,"

I say my goodbyes to everyone and make my way to the car, settling into the seat with a tired sigh—until the realization hits me like a jolt. I've forgotten the one thing I can't live without. Heart skipping a beat, I rush out of the car and sprint upstairs to the room I'd stayed in during my visit. The moment my eyes land on the white cat plushie, I let out a breath of relief, scooping it up and hugging it tightly against my chest.

The sharp beep of the car outside startles me, making me jump in place before I bolt out the door, hurrying down the stairs. My feet move too fast, and I miscalculate the last step—suddenly, the ground isn't where I expect it to be. A sharp gasp escapes my lips as I slip, bracing for the inevitable impact. But it never comes.

Instead, a firm yet careful grip catches me around the waist, steadying me before I can hit the ground. My heart pounds as I scramble back to my feet, the warmth of the touch disappearing as quickly as it came. I glance up, my breath hitching as I take in my saviour. His dark hair is tousled as if he's just battled against the wind itself. Dressed casually in a T-shirt and shorts, he looks just as startled as I feel, his lips parted slightly in surprise. But it's his eyes that hold me captive—deep brown, nearly black, pulling me in like a force I can't resist.

"You have to be careful, you would've busted your head open right here," he says, jokingly.

I just stare at the boy in stunned silence, my brain scrambling to piece together any sort of response. He's so captivating that I have to remind myself to breathe, the air catching in my lungs as I try to steady my racing heart.

He is beautiful.

Caught off guard by my silence, he scratches his head in confusion before speaking again.

"You alright..? Uh... I'm Shivyansh."

He extends his hand toward me, and I nod absentmindedly, still trying to wrap my head around the situation. His touch is brief, his fingers warm against mine, but before I can fully register it, he pulls away.

"So... what's your name?" he asks, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes.

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can get a single word out, the sharp beeping of the car interrupts me—my parents growing impatient outside. I steal one last glance at the boy in front of me, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and surprise. Then, without another word, I turn and dash toward the door, leaving him standing there, dumbfounded, as I rush to the waiting car.

Present

"So what's your name, Miss?"

I force an awkward smile at the old man in front of me, his grin lopsided as he extends a sweaty hand toward me. Internally, I groan, resisting the urge to slam my head against a wall. Swallowing my reluctance, I hesitantly reach out, bracing myself as my fingers meet his damp palm.

Before my fingers can endure such torture, a familiar warmth wraps around my waist, pulling me back slightly. Startled, I glance to my side, and the frustration bubbling inside me melts away in an instant. Shivyansh stands beside me, his grip firm yet effortless, his dark eyes locked in a sharp glare at the poor old man in front of me. My insides flutter at the sight—protective, intense, completely unaware of the way he's just turned my world upside down.

I can't make out the words Shivyansh says to the man, as a strange buzzing fills my ears. The warmth of his presence, the way his body presses against mine, sends a rush of sensations through me, overwhelming my senses. I go rigid, unable to focus on anything but the way his touch makes everything else fade into the background.

I stare at him, mesmerized, taking in the sharp edge of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, and the tousled hair that he wears so effortlessly handsome—the same way he did all those years ago. My heart flutters, shyly jumping out of my ribcage as his thumb gently caresses my side, sending a wave of warmth through me that I can't seem to shake.

After I had run away that day he asked my name, I couldn't help but call Anvi as soon as I reached home. I had to know about him. Turned out that he was one of the Khurana boys, one that Anvi had well acquainted herself with. I never went into the details of what had happened that day, but I'm sure she's still suspicious to this date.

After my first encounter with Shiv, I couldn't help but ask Dad to let me move to Delhi for a while. Dad was reluctant about going at first, but he finally agreed, and we moved back to the Khan mansion for good.

I don't think Shiv ever noticed me as such. Not because he didn't want to, but more because I didn't want him to. For whatever reason it was, I never acquainted himself with the older Khurana. Not when Anvi suggested it, not when Kyra said she needed someone to gang up on him with her because they never got along.

I never realized how deep and complicated my feelings for Shiv had become. To him, I was just Anvi's shy cousin—the one who never played or spoke much with them. I tried so hard to gather the courage to say something, to talk, to confess, but I never quite made it. And by the time I finally worked up the nerve, it was too late. Shiv had already left for college in another state, and before he returned, I had left to pursue my studies in London.

Those strange, tangled emotions never really went away, though. Not even after all these years, when he finally sees me for who I am, when I finally found the courage to let him see me—truly see me. The feelings I once buried are still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something more.

Shiv turns to me as the old man leaves in a hurry, his face red in embarrassment at whatever Shiv said to him.

"Are you alright?" He questions in a gentle manner, such different to the way he had spoken with the man a few seconds ago.

I nod in response, avoiding the embarrassment of fumbling over my words. He gives me a small, knowing smile before turning to face the ongoing event in front of him. Since the project Shiv and I worked on had garnered huge sales, he wanted to do something to thank me. Although I think I would've preferred a cup of coffee rather than a whole office party for that matter.

"Are u happy with this? I don't know if it's enough to thank u for what u did to help me... Dad was impressed with this project, and just so u know that rarely happens," He says, his eyes fixed on mine as if waiting for a reaction.

I pass him a soft genuine smile, before nodding again, my eyes twinkling with gratitude, "It's enough Mr. Khurana, I appreciate you taking out time to organising something like this for someone as small as myself,"

"You don't give yourself enough credit Mariam, stop putting yourself down, you deserve a lot more than these small things,"

"I can say the same to you," I whisper, genuine about my statement.

Never have I seen a man work like Shivyansh Khurana, never have I seen a man love like him. His dedication to his work, pushing himself until he's on the brink of exhaustion, and his unwavering loyalty to his friends and family—it's these things that truly define him. It's what makes him him in a way no one else could ever replicate.

It's what makes me admire him more than I ever have.