Later that night, Raghav was laid on his bed, the glow of his phone screen reflecting in his mischievous eyes.

He had been searching for the last twenty minutes, and his dedication finally paid off when he found a private account with a simple bio. 

Finding magic in the quiet✨

He hit Follow without a second thought. To his surprise, the notification popped up barely a minute later, she had accepted.

Siya was reading the book she had recently found. She had a keen interest in philosophy. 

She was surprised to see her phone ping with a notification saying that Rockstar_Raghav has requested to follow her. She kept the book aside and without a second thought, she hit Confirm and Follow Back.

Raghav immediately tapped on her latest story. It was a picture of a half-empty cup of tea next to a thick, dusty book on philosophy. No caption, just a peaceful vibe. He couldn't resist teasing her.

Wait, is that book actually for reading ya sirf superior dikhne ke liye?

(Wait, is that book actually for reading or only to look superior?)

It's for reading, Raghav. Though it does have the added benefit of keeping people at a safe distance.

Siya bit her lip while typing the reply. Already imagining him clutching his chest dramatically like he did earlier.

Ouch. Mujhe aisa believe hone laga ki tumhara ye 'quiet' nature is just a cover for your professional roasting career.

(I am starting to believe that this ‘quiet’ nature of yours is just a cover for your professional roasting career.)

I don't know what you mean. I'm just a quiet observer, remember?  Material toh aap provide kr rhe hai.

(You are providing the material.)

The material was top-tier! Anyway, maine kuch notice kia iss photo mai. That tea looks cold. Is that how you treat your guests too? First cold tea, then cold roasts?

(Anyway, I noticed something in the picture.)

The tea is cold because I spent ten minutes wondering why a certain rockstar had just requested to follow me at 11:30 PM. Don't you have fans to entertain?

I'm currently off-duty. Aur tumne mujhe uss 'not funny' comment se bhut hurt kia hai. My ego is still in the ICU, Siya.

(You hurt me a lot with that ‘not funny’ comment earlier.)

She laughed and typed out her next reply. Her fingers dancing quickly on the screen of her phone.

It's a very tough ego. I'm sure it'll make a full recovery by tomorrow morning.

Actually, the doctor said the only cure is a proper cup of coffee. With a beautiful lady whose name starts with an 'S' and ends with an 'A'.

Siya blushed again. He was flirting. He had been doing that since they started talking. And it had not even been 24 hours since they met.

A coffee date? That's a very bold move for someone whose ego is in the ICU.

Medical necessity samajh lo. Besides, I need a chance to prove I can actually listen. I'll even bring a notebook to take notes on your observations.

(Consider it a medical necessity.)

Notebook? Ab mai aapko glasses mai picture kr rhi hu, looking very serious. It doesn't suit you.

(Now I am imagining you in glasses, looking very serious.)

She was lying. She did picture him in glasses and in her imagination, he looked really hot.

Is that a compliment? Did Siya Grover just say I look better as a hero than a nerd?

Don't push your luck, Mr. Oberoi. So jaaiye.

(Sleep.)

Fine, fine. But check your messages tomorrow. Ho skta hai ek voice note bhejdu of me being quiet for five seconds. It'll be a collector's item.

(I might send you a voice note of me being quiet for five seconds.)

She laughed at that. He really was something.

Goodnight, Raghav.

Goodnight, Siya. (P.S. The book still looks boring.)

By Saturday afternoon, Raghav found himself standing in front of his mirror, being criticised by both his mother and Ishaan.

"Raghav, ye leather jacket mai pehen. Aisa lagega tu usse bike race ke liye le jaa raha hai, not a nice dinner."

(Raghav, don’t wear this leather jacket. It will look like you’re taking her for a bike race, rather than a nice dinner.)

His mother said, smoothing his collar. Raghav checked his reflection, flashing a wink at himself.

"Maa, the leather jacket is part of the Raghav Charm Package. Aur waise bhi papa ne bola tha na ki wo besabri se milna chahti hai mujhse."

(And papa said that she is desperate to meet me.)

His father looked up from his tablet, hiding a smile.

"I said they suggested a meeting. I didn't say you should look like a background dancer from a 90s action film."

Ishaan chuckled and Raghav narrowed his eyes at his father before shrugging and smirking at his 'heroic' look.

The date took place at a chic, dimly lit cafe that was far too quiet for Raghav's liking. Siya was already there, looking effortlessly elegant in a simple white kurti, reading that same boring book.

She had deliberately brought it to tease him. She knew he would comment on it the moment he sees it.

Raghav pulled out the chair across from her with a smoothness that caught the attention of three neighbouring tables.

"I hope tumhe bhut der intezaar nhi krna pada. I had to fight off my mother and brother just to leave the house in one piece."

(I hope you didn’t have to wait long.)

Siya closed her book slowly, her eyes tracking his leather jacket with a hint of amusement.

"I've been here for five minutes. I like the jacket. Is it... a costume choice?"

Raghav settled into his seat, leaning forward with his best intense hero gaze.

"Ye? This is vintage. It says 'I'm adventurous, yet I appreciate the classics.' Tumhari book kya kehti hai? 'I'm trying to avoid eye contact with the world'?"

(What does your book say?)

"It says I have good taste in literature. Something we clearly need to work on for you."

A waiter approached, and Raghav didn't even look at the menu. He wanted to look decisive. He wanted to look like he was the hero of a movie.

"Two double-shot espressos. Black. No sugar. Hume apni coffee apni conversations ki tarah pasand hai...strong and unfiltered."

(We like our coffee like our conversations…strong and unfiltered.)

The waiter nodded and left. Siya waited until he was out of earshot before leaning back, crossing her arms.

"I actually wanted a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows."

Raghav's confident posture deflated.

"Wait, really? But... the 'strong and unfiltered' line was so good! It sounded like a movie dialogue!"

"It sounded like you're trying to give us both an acidity problem. I don't even like black coffee, Raghav."

"Theek hai, theek hai. One-zero to you. Mai usse wapas bulata hu."

(Fine, fine….I will call him back.)

"Nhi, rehne dijiye. I want to see you try to finish a double-shot espresso without making a face. It'll be the highlight of my evening."

(No, let it be.)

As the bitter coffee arrived, Raghav took a brave sip, suppressed a grimace, and immediately tried to go back to his cool persona.

"So, Siya. Now that we're away from the parental surveillance... tell me. On a scale of 1 to 'I'm already planning the wedding,' how much are you enjoying this date?"

Siya stirred her coffee with a tiny spoon, her expression unreadable.

"I'd say I'm at a solid 'I'm glad I brought my book just in case.'"

Raghav laughed, genuinely this time, leaning his chin on his hand.

"You're a tough nut to crack, aren't you? Most girls are usually laughing at my jokes by now."

"Maybe you should try telling better jokes instead of trying to act like a hero in a script you wrote yourself."

Raghav looked at her for a long moment, the playfulness in his eyes softening into something more sincere, though the smirk remained.

"Ouch. You really don't let me get away with anything, do you?"

"Why should I? Agar aapke saath life spend krni hai, I'd rather talk to Raghav, not the Oberoi Rockstar version of him."

(If I have to spend my life with you, I’d rather talk to Raghav…)

Raghav felt a strange tug in his chest. He took another sip of the bitter coffee, and this time, he didn't even notice the taste.

"Theek hai, Grover sahiba. No more scripts. But if I'm being the real me... I have to admit, that white kurti makes you look like a dream. Even if you are a dream that keeps insulting me."

(Fine, Miss Grover.)

Siya looked down at her coffee, the first real blush of the evening staining her cheeks.

"Better. That was almost a decent compliment."

"Almost? Fine. Agli baar, mai guitar lekar aaunga."

(Next time, I am bringing a guitar.)

"Please nhi. I'd have to pretend I don't know you."

(Please no.)