The relentless downpour showed no signs of relenting, the rhythmic drumming on the roof sealing the world away. A phone call earlier that evening had confirmed the isolation; Divyash’s parents were stranded at a relative's apartment, held hostage by the flooded streets. Even Scooby, their energetic dog, was miles away at Rishab’s place, likely busy dismantling a sofa. For the first time in a while, the house was silent, save for the rain.
Avni had retreated to the bedroom, buried under a mountain of digital paperwork, while Divyash stayed in the living room, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he hammered out lines of code. He tried to remain inconspicuous, a ghost in his own home, but as the hours stretched on, the solitude began to itch. Boredom, sharp and mischievous, took hold.
He crept into the bedroom, moving with the practiced silence of a predator. Avni was a statue of concentration, her eyes locked on the screen. Creeping behind her ergonomic chair, Divyash waited for the perfect beat of silence between thunderclaps.
"BOO!"
Avni’s shriek pierced the room. She nearly launched herself out of her seat, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. As she gasped for air, she turned to find Divyash doubled over, his laughter erupting in Great, hysterical bursts.
"God, Divyash! I nearly had a heart attack!" she snapped, though her hand stayed pressed to her chest to steady her pulse. "Stop laughing! It isn't funny!"
"I’m sorry... I’m sorry," he wheezed, clutching his stomach as his face flushed. "But you were so focused... I’ve never seen someone's soul actually leave their body before."
"I wasn't scared," she lied, her eyes narrowed as she swatted his arm. "I was shocked. There’s a difference."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he grinned, reaching out to gently rub the spot she had hit. His expression softened, the manic energy fading into a lazy, comfortable warmth. He collapsed onto the edge of the bed. "Enough. I’m calling it. Work hours are officially over."
"Finally," Avni sighed, leaning back. "Movie? You mentioned that thriller the other day."
Divyash shook his head, a playful, secretive glint returning to his eyes. "No. I want something else. But you have to promise—no, you have to say 'yes' first."
"Absolutely not. I know that look. If it deserves a 'no,' it's getting a 'no.' What is rattling around in that head of yours?"
Divyash didn't argue. Instead, he leaned forward, widening his eyes and pouting his lower lip in a perfect imitation of Scooby ’s "please share your dinner" expression. It was Avni’s greatest weakness. She groaned, looking at the ceiling as if seeking strength. She knew that if she succumbed now, he’d use this weapon against her for the next fifty years.
"Fine! Stop it. You look ridiculous," she conceded. "I'll do it."
"Fantastic!" He bounced up, his enthusiasm radiating. "I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain with my wife. The terrace is calling, let’s go."
Avni stared at him, deadpan. "Are you fifteen? You’re twenty-seven years old, Divyash. We’ll catch pneumonia. I thought you were just bored, but now I’m certain you’ve lost your mind."
"A deal is a deal! You promised!" He began to plead, his voice rising in a rhythmic, irritatingly charming chant until she threw up her hands in defeat.
"Five minutes," she barked. "Not a second more."
"Deal! Now, go change. Wear that saree—the one from the day after the wedding."
"In the rain? I can barely walk in a saree on dry land, and you want me to waltz on a slippery terrace? Forget it."
Divyash shrugged, sensing he’d pushed his luck far enough. "Fine, fine. Just come as you are. I’ll grab the speaker."
Avni stomped toward the stairs, muttering about "hurt feelings" and "immature husbands," but as she stepped out toward the terrace, a secret thrill began to stir. She was dressed simply in a pink chikankari kurta and palazzo, the cotton soft against her skin. She reached the threshold of the terrace and stopped, watching the silver sheets of rain lash against the stone.
Suddenly, the opening notes of Kabhi Jo Baadal Barse drifted through the air, amplified by the small Bluetooth speaker Divyash was carrying. He stepped up behind her, his presence warm against the chill of the evening.
"Why are you hiding in the shade?" he whispered. He took her hand, his fingers lacing through hers, and gently led her out into the deluge.
The first contact with the rain was a shock—cold, piercing, and transformative. Within seconds, they were drenched. Divyash placed one hand firmly on her waist and drew her hand to his shoulder. Avni, usually so composed, found herself breathless.
They moved slowly, lost in a rhythm that had nothing to do with the music and everything to do with the way they looked at one another. The world beyond the terrace walls ceased to exist. Divyash broke the gaze only once—to sweep her off her feet, spinning her in a dizzying circle. For a moment, as the water sprayed around them, Avni felt weightless, like a creature of myth catching flight.
When he set her down, the playful energy had vanished, replaced by a thick, heavy silence. The wet fabric of her kurta clung to her, becoming translucent in the dim light, revealing the dark lace of her bra beneath. The air between them felt electric, more charged than the storm above. Their faces were inches apart, the scent of rain and skin mingling.
Divyash’s eyes dropped to her lips, a silent question hanging in the air. Avni gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
Just as their lips were about to meet, the romantic swell of the music was violently cut off by the shrill, aggressive ringtone of a phone. The spell shattered. They jumped apart, suddenly and painfully aware of their dripping clothes and the absurdity of the moment.
"Check the phone," Avni breathed, her face burning. "I'm going down." She turned and bolted for the stairs, leaving him standing in the rain.
Divyash snatched up the phone, his teeth gritting. "Whoever this is, you’re cursed," he muttered. It was his father.
"Idiot! Open the door!" his father’s voice roared the second he picked up. "We’ve been ringing the bell for ten minutes!"
"Dad? You said you were staying at Masi’s!"
"Do you want a full report or do you want to let your parents in out of the cold?"
Divyash scrambled downstairs, heart still racing from the near-miss on the terrace. He swung the front door open to find his parents standing there, shivering but dry-ish under their umbrellas.
"What took so long?" his father grumbled, stepping into the foyer. Then he stopped, squinting at his son. "And why are you soaked to the bone? Is it raining inside the house now?"
"Where's Avni?" his mother added, looking around. "Why didn't she answer?"
"I... I just felt like seeing the rain," Divyash stammered, the heat of embarrassment rising to his ears.
"Divyash, go change before you get sick! I’ve already..." Avni appeared at the top of the stairs, her words dying in her throat as she locked eyes with her in-laws. She was in a fresh set of clothes, her hair still damp, her expression a mask of pure, unadulterated shock.
The silence that followed was deafening. His parents looked from their dripping son to their damp daughter-in-law, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place with agonizing clarity. They didn't say a word. They simply gathered their bags and walked toward their guest room, their silence louder than any lecture could ever be.
Avni and Divyash stood in the hallway, staring at everything except each other, the lingering magic of the rain replaced by the sheer, awkward reality of being caught.
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