The bus rattled along the highway, the golden desert stretching out far beyond the road. The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over everything.
Arin sat beside Astha, but his eyes weren’t on the landscape. They were on her.
She was different here—untamed, free, almost unrecognizable from the composed, sharp-witted woman he knew at work. Her hair danced in the wind, the loose strands flying against her face. But she didn’t seem to care. If anything, she leaned into the wind, welcoming the chaos of it.
Every now and then, she would stretch out her hand, plucking leaves from trees as they passed by, sometimes even grabbing a small guava or tamarind pod, much to the amusement of the other passengers. She grinned, her eyes alight with a mischief that made Arin smile despite himself.
He had never seen her like this before.
“So,” he asked, finally breaking his silence. “Does Shanaya like to travel this way too?”
Astha made a face. “Please. She’s Miss Prim and Proper. This”—she gestured around—“is beneath her standards of travel.”
Arin smiled. “And your parents? They’re okay with you climbing onto buses like this?”
She snorted. “Of course not. They don’t even let Shanaya sit by the window in a regular bus. Safety first, always.”
Arin raised an eyebrow. “And yet, here you are?”
She flashed him a teasing grin. “Because I don’t listen to them.”
Arin chuckled. “I should’ve guessed.”
Astha turned to him, resting her elbow on her knee as she regarded him thoughtfully. “You know, you surprise me, Verma.”
“Oh?” He tilted his head. “How so?”
“You don’t belong here,” she said, waving a hand at their surroundings. “Yet, you’re handling this whole situation with surprising grace. I expected you to be miserable by now.”
Arin smiled. “Oh, I am miserable. But I’m also entertained.”
Astha grinned. “Good. You should be.”
For a moment, there was silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was easy. The kind of silence that didn’t demand to be filled.
A sudden gust of wind sent a few leaves scattering around them. One got stuck in Astha’s hair. Arin reached out instinctively, plucking it away before she could notice.
She looked at him, surprised, but said nothing.
Arin simply leaned back and looked at the setting sun. “So, what’s the story we’re covering in Udaipur?”
Astha’s lips curled into a smirk. “Why? Afraid I’ll drag you into another unexpected adventure?”
Arin sighed. “At this point, I’m prepared for anything.”
Astha laughed, the sound blending with the wind. “That’s the spirit.”
As the bus continued down the dusty road, Arin found himself thinking that maybe—just maybe—this kind of chaos wasn’t so bad after all.
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