Breakfast at the hotel was usually noisy.

Between her friends arguing over the merits of poha versus aloo paratha, Meher threatening to pour hot chai on her boyfriend's phone if he didn't stop scrolling reels, and the clatter of waitstaff serving groups of tourists, it was rarely a peaceful affair.

But this morning?

It was... different.

Avantika slipped into her usual chair at the breakfast table, her hair tied up in a loose bun, sunglasses perched on her head. She wore a simple pastel kurta with jeans, minimal makeup, and yet, she looked as radiant as ever—still glowing from the soft residue of the previous night.

And just as she picked up the jug of orange juice, a familiar voice drifted over.

"Allow me."

She turned, calmly, as Abhimanyu sat down beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world. His brother, Abhinav, followed and took the seat beside him.

She said nothing. Not even a raised brow. Not a sarcastic comment. Not even a fake cough to alert Meher.

She simply let him sit. And poured herself some juice.

For Abhimanyu, it was progress.

He leaned slightly toward her—not enough to cross any visible boundaries, but enough to exist within her space. "You haven't tried the kachoris here," he said, picking one from the platter and placing it gently on her plate.

She didn't object.

He added a few more items—a spoonful of gatte ki sabzi, some fruit, and a small bowl of curd.

She looked at the plate, then at him. "You really like feeding me, don't you?"

He smiled. "It's my new favorite thing."

Abhinav rolled his eyes. "It was my new favorite thing to eat breakfast in peace, but I guess that's over."

Avantika laughed under her breath. That earned her a slow smile from Abhimanyu—one that said he noticed everything.

Her friends noticed, too.

Even Meher didn't interfere today.

Maybe it was the way he always watched her—not with ownership, but with attentiveness. Like she was something he'd waited years to discover. And now that he had, he didn't dare look away.

Even the boyfriends at the table—who were more interested in getting their food selfies right—couldn't compete with the care in Abhimanyu's simple gestures. The way he refilled her water without asking. The way he removed the green chilies from her poha after noticing her avoiding them.

Not a boyfriend. Not yet.

But he may as well have been.

As the laughter at the table swelled again, Avantika leaned slightly toward him.

"My trip ends tomorrow," she said softly, barely above a whisper.

Abhimanyu paused mid-bite.

"I leave for Delhi. Back to college. Back to life."

He didn't respond at first.

Then he nodded. Quiet. Composed.

Like he'd already prepared for this.

But his eyes gave him away.

That barely-there flicker of panic. The tightening of his jaw. The way his fingers paused just briefly before setting his spoon down.

She was leaving.

And he wasn't ready.

Abhinav, watching the exchange like a seasoned observer of love stories, cleared his throat.

"Well," he said suddenly, "Delhi's not a bad place."

Avantika blinked at him. "Excuse me?"

"I have some business there anyway," Abhinav continued casually. "Real estate, partnerships, you know the usual royal nonsense. Abhimanyu will come along. Help manage things."

Abhimanyu stared at him.

And in that moment, the elder brother gave him a slight nod.

The quiet go-ahead.

The royal blessing.

"I mean, if that's okay with you?" Abhimanyu said, his voice calm but his heart drumming.

Avantika looked at both of them.

"You're coming to Delhi?"

"Yes."

"To see me?"

"To... handle royal business," Abhimanyu replied, but he smiled, "and if a certain Delhi girl happens to cross my path while I'm there, I won't complain."

Avantika leaned back in her chair, chewing slowly.

She wasn't smiling.

But her eyes—those eyes that once burned with rage the first time she saw him—held something else now.

A flicker.

A dare.

A possibility.

"Delhi girls don't fall for cheesy lines," she said, raising her brow.

"I'm not trying to make you fall," he said smoothly.

She tilted her head. "No?"

He leaned in slightly. "I'm trying to make you stay."

Her cheeks flushed. She looked away.

And for a brief moment, the rest of the breakfast table disappeared. The noise dulled. The plates, the laughter, the cutlery clinks—gone.

Just her.

And him.

And the fact that this wasn't just some vacation fling anymore.

He wasn't just a random cafe guy anymore.

And she wasn't just another tourist anymore.

They were something.

Unspoken. Unlabelled.

But something.

Meher slid into the chair across from them, eyeing them both. "So what's the plan now? Secret palace visits in Delhi? Or are you two going to pretend this was just a summer dream?"

Avantika sipped her juice. "He's coming to Delhi."

Meher smirked. "You okay with that?"

"I'm not okay with people rearranging my life without asking," she said, throwing a pointed glance at both Abhinav and Abhimanyu.

"But?"

She sighed. "But I'm not asking him to stay away, either."

Abhinav stood, brushing crumbs off his kurta. "Well then, that sounds like progress. I'm going to go call the logistics team. Book a flight. Or a chopper."

Avantika's eyes widened. "Chopper?!"

Abhimanyu whispered, "Ignore him. He's extra."

Abhinav smirked as he walked away. "You love it."

Avantika laughed, shaking her head. "This is insane."

"You started it," Abhimanyu said, sipping his tea.

"How?!"

"You walked into a cafe in a high-slit skirt and ruined my life."

"You ogled me like a creep!"

"I admired you like a poet."

"Oh god."

"I'm not saying I want a restraining order," Meher muttered, "but if you two flirt any harder, I will throw up."

Avantika rolled her eyes and nudged Abhimanyu away slightly. "Eat your food before I change my mind about Delhi."

He grinned.

And for the rest of the breakfast, he didn't look away from her once.