Category: romance

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Seventy One: A Question of Forever

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Seventy One: A Question of Forever

    Arin had always known that Astha was stubborn, but he had assumed—perhaps foolishly—that with time, she would accept the inevitable. That she would see what he saw, that they were meant to belong to each other in every world, in every way. But she had held onto her stance, refusing to acknowledge what he so desperately wanted.

    One evening, as they sat on her balcony, watching the city lights flicker below them, he decided it was time to confront her.

    “Astha,” he said, his voice quieter than usual but firm. “Why don’t you want to marry me in this world?”

    Astha, sipping on her tea, stilled for a fraction of a second before she placed the cup down. She turned to face him, meeting his gaze head-on. “Arin, we talked about this. You promised me you’d be okay with it.”

    His fingers curled into fists before he exhaled, forcing himself to remain calm. “I know what I said, but I can’t pretend anymore. I need you, Astha. I need to know that you’re mine, not just in the ways we tell each other, but in the ways the world sees too. I want the world to know that we belong together.”

    She closed her eyes for a brief moment before looking at him again. “In my world, Arin, marriage is different. Everyone expects that a wife must leave her family behind—her parents, her home—to be with her husband. I don’t want to do that. I can’t leave Shanaya or my parents.”

    Arin took her hands in his, squeezing them gently but firmly. “Who is asking you to do that? I love your family like my own. I wouldn’t leave them, so why should you? I want to be with you and them. I want to share my life with all of you, not take you away from them.”

    Astha shook her head, biting her lip. “It’s not just that. I don’t want to change my surname or my identity. Marriage in my world means sacrificing parts of yourself for someone else, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to lose myself, Arin.”

    Arin cupped her face, his thumb tracing soft circles against her cheek. “Astha, I don’t care about names or legal formalities. I don’t care if you change your surname or not. I don’t care about traditions or rules. The only thing that matters to me is you. As long as I can call you mine in front of the world, nothing else matters.”

    Her breath hitched as his eyes bore into hers, intense and unwavering. “You are my miracle, Astha. I don’t want to lose you. I want to stand beside you, with the whole world knowing that we belong to each other.”

    His voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned in, his lips barely brushing against hers. “Marry me, Astha. There is nothing else I need.

    Astha felt her walls slowly crumbling, the weight of his words wrapping around her heart. She had been so afraid of what marriage meant that she had forgotten what it could be—something built on love, trust, and the life they had created together.

    She exhaled, searching his face for any hint of hesitation. There was none. Only love. Only him.

    “Yes,” she whispered, and his arms immediately wrapped around her, pulling her into a fierce embrace. “But,” she added quickly, pulling back slightly, “no big weddings. No relatives. No jingbang.”

    Arin chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Done. Just you and me.”

    Astha smiled against his chest, finally allowing herself to surrender to the love she had tried so hard to resist.

    Because for the first time, she realized—he wasn’t asking her to lose herself.

    He was asking her to be herself—with him.

    Forever.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Seventy: A Prophecy Is Fulfilled

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Seventy: A Prophecy Is Fulfilled

    It was an evening like any other. Astha and Arin sat comfortably in his apartment, sipping tea, wrapped in the warmth of familiarity. The city lights shimmered outside, their glow reflecting in the silent understanding between them. Arin leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out, while Astha curled her feet under her, flipping absently through a book.

    Then it happened.

    A low, vibrating hum filled the air, growing louder as a shimmering portal tore through the space before them. The Elders were calling.

    Arin’s jaw tightened. He had been expecting this. He set his cup down and stood, his body instantly alert. Astha placed her hand on his arm before he could move.

    “Are we doing this?” she asked, her voice steady but her eyes searching his.

    He covered her hand with his own, pressing it gently. “We don’t have a choice. But I’ll be right there with you.”

    She nodded, gripping his fingers briefly before they stepped through the portal together, their world dissolving behind them.


    The Prophecy Revealed

    The Elders stood tall before them, their expressions unreadable, their robes flowing as if caught in an unseen breeze. The vastness of the timekeeper’s world stretched around them, an endless abyss of swirling energy.

    “There is an ancient prophecy,” one of the Elders intoned, their voice resonating in the space around them. “One written before even our kind existed.”

    Astha and Arin exchanged glances.

    “The prophecy foretells of a timekeeper who will defy the laws of time, who will cross the barriers to find love. And through that love, restore balance to our world.” Another Elder stepped forward, his eyes scanning them. “You, Arin, are that timekeeper. And you, Astha, are the love that he has brought back.”

    Astha’s breath hitched. “And what does that mean?”

    The Elders exchanged knowing glances before speaking. “A darkness has begun to consume our world, creeping into the fabric of time itself. Only the two of you, bound by true love, can defeat it.”

    Astha’s fists clenched. “I’ll agree to help. But only on one condition—Arin must be safe at all costs.”

    Arin’s fingers laced through hers, his grip firm. “And I agree only if Astha is protected at all costs.”

    The Elders regarded them in silence for a long moment before one of them murmured, “It is as we feared. Their power is their love.”


    The Training Begins

    The Elders decreed that Arin would train Astha for the battle ahead. Here, in the space between spaces, time did not move as it did in the mortal realm. No time would pass in Astha’s world, no one would know they were gone.

    Astha trained relentlessly. Her body, which had never known battle, soon became attuned to the rhythm of combat. Arin pushed her harder than he ever had, his hands correcting her form, his voice firm but filled with something unspoken—a mix of admiration and pride.

    “You’re not just fighting with your body,” Arin murmured one evening, stepping closer, his fingers adjusting the grip of her sword. “You’re fighting with your heart.”

    Astha looked up at him, breathing heavily. “Then teach me to use it right.”

    His lips quirked up. “You already are.”

    They moved together, training as if they had always been meant to fight side by side. Their steps mirrored each other’s, their attacks and defenses in perfect harmony, almost like a dance choreographed by fate itself.

    One night, after a particularly grueling session, Astha leaned back against him, exhaustion in her limbs, but exhilaration in her veins.

    Arin tilted his head down, his lips grazing her temple. “I’ve never seen anything like you.”

    She smiled, closing her eyes. “That makes two of us.”


    The Final Battle

    The battlefield stretched before them, a realm of swirling darkness and fractured time. The air crackled with unseen forces as the enemy gathered.

    Arin looked at Astha, his fingers brushing hers in a fleeting, silent promise. “Are you ready?”

    Astha met his gaze. “With you? Always.”

    Then they moved, an unstoppable force of light and love. Where Astha faltered, Arin was there to catch her. Where Arin struck, Astha followed, their energies intertwining, their strength feeding into one another. They danced through the battlefield, their movements fluid, their attacks seamless.

    The darkness howled as it was driven back, wave after wave crumbling before them. The final strike came as they stood together, hands clasped, unleashing a surge of energy that shattered the darkness into oblivion.

    The Elders watched in silent awe.

    “You have done what no other has,” one Elder finally spoke. “It is time to celebrate.”

    But Arin knew better. His instincts screamed at him. They weren’t celebrating. They were binding them here.

    He turned to Astha. “We’re leaving. Now.”

    Before the Elders could stop them, Arin pulled her through the portal, their bond ripping them back into their world.


    Back Where They Belong

    They landed back in Arin’s apartment, breathless and trembling. Astha leaned against him, her heart pounding against his chest.

    “You knew, didn’t you?” she whispered.

    He nodded. “They weren’t going to let us go.”

    She let out a shaky laugh, tilting her head up. “So, what now?”

    Arin cupped her face, brushing a strand of hair away. “Now, we live our life.”

    She scoffed, playfully pushing his chest. “You mean, my life.”

    His lips quirked. “Our life.”

    She folded her arms, stepping away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Verma. In this world, I am only your secret girlfriend.”

    His smirk deepened. “Not for long.”

    She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    He stepped closer, his voice dropping into that low, teasing timbre. “I’m going to make you my wife in this world too.”

    Astha scoffed, but her breath hitched when he tilted her chin up, his eyes burning with promise.

    “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

    “And yet,” Arin murmured, tracing a slow, lazy circle against her wrist, “you love it.”

    She rolled her eyes, but the way her fingers curled against his chest betrayed her.

    Because deep down, she knew—when Arin Verma set his mind to something, there was no escaping him.

    And maybe… just maybe… she didn’t want to.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Nine : Scrabble Again

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Nine : Scrabble Again

    The next evening, Arin arrived at Astha’s place for dinner, greeted by Shanaya’s mischievous grin.

    “You’re just in time,” Shanaya announced, arms crossed. “I challenge you to a rematch.”

    Arin smiled. “Scrabble?”

    “Scrabble,” Shanaya confirmed. “Last time, you got lucky.”

    Astha shook her head as she set the table. “He never wins, Shanaya. You just let him think he does.”

    Shanaya feigned offense. “Excuse me? I play fair.”

    Arin chuckled, rolling up his sleeves. “Alright, let’s settle this once and for all.”

    They set up the Scrabble board in the living room, and soon, the game was in full swing. Arin played with exaggerated confidence, throwing in words that made Shanaya groan.

    “That’s not even a word!” Shanaya protested, pointing at his latest attempt.

    Arin leaned back, feigning hurt. “It is. ‘Zenzic.’ Look it up.”

    Shanaya grabbed her phone. “If this is fake, I’m taking ten points off.”

    Astha, watching from the kitchen, chuckled. “He makes up half his words, you know.”

    Shanaya shook her head. “I’m onto you, Verma. You think you can charm your way into a win?”

    Arin grinned. “Is it working?”

    “No.”

    He sighed dramatically. “Then I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

    As the game went on, Arin played fairly but still found ways to tease Shanaya, making sure she stayed on her toes. He let her win some rounds, just enough to keep things competitive, but his real focus was elsewhere—on Astha.

    Every time she passed by, he brushed his fingers against hers, a fleeting touch that sent shivers down her spine. When she refilled his glass, his hand lingered over hers for just a second too long. And when she bent down to grab something from the table, his gaze followed her in a way that would have made her blush if Shanaya hadn’t been sitting right there.

    Shanaya, oblivious to their secret, narrowed her eyes at them once in a while but said nothing.

    “You two are weird,” she finally muttered.

    Astha froze. “What?”

    Shanaya shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem… different.”

    Arin smiled. “That’s because I’m losing. It’s messing with my mind.”

    Shanaya rolled her eyes. “That must be it.”


    Cooking Together

    After Scrabble, they headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Shanaya, conveniently, had a video call with her friend and excused herself, leaving Astha and Arin alone.

    The moment the door closed behind Shanaya, Arin moved closer. “Finally.”

    Astha gave him a warning glance. “Behave.”

    He grinned, sliding an arm around her waist as she reached for the ingredients. “I was behaving. You’re the one distracting me.”

    She huffed, stirring the sauce while trying to ignore the warmth of his hands on her hips. “You’re impossible.”

    “And yet, here I am.”

    She tried to focus, but he wasn’t making it easy. Every time she moved, he was there—his fingers grazing the small of her back, his lips brushing against her temple when she reached for the spices. When she turned to scold him, he caught her wrist and pulled her closer. “Arin,” she warned, but her voice lacked conviction.

    He leaned in, his lips barely an inch from hers. “Yes, wife?”

    She narrowed her eyes. “Shanaya could walk in any second.”

    He sighed dramatically, loosening his grip but not stepping away. “You’re no fun.”

    She smiled, tapping his chest with a wooden spoon. “And you’re too obvious.”

    He grinned, watching her with that familiar look that made her heart race. “You love it.”

    She sighed, turning back to the stove. “Unfortunately.”

    Arin chuckled, content for now. But he knew the night was far from over.


    Dinner and Suspicion

    When Shanaya returned, they were sitting at the table as if nothing had happened. But she wasn’t entirely convinced.

    As they ate, she observed them closely, her gaze flickering between them.

    “You two are definitely acting weird,” she said suddenly.

    Astha choked on her drink. “What?”

    Shanaya squinted at them. “I don’t know… something’s up.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you’re just paranoid.”

    Shanaya shrugged. “Maybe.”

    But Astha could see it—the suspicion in Shanaya’s eyes. And she knew it was only a matter of time before her daughter put the pieces together.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Eight: The New Morning

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Eight: The New Morning

    Astha woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of Arin’s body curled around hers. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. She was nestled against his chest, his arms locked securely around her, as if even in sleep, he didn’t want to let go.

    She blinked, her mind catching up to the events of the night before. The tenderness, the intensity, the way he had made her feel completely and utterly his.

    A slow, satisfied sigh escaped her lips, and almost immediately, she felt him stir.

    “Mmm,” Arin murmured, tightening his hold on her. “Good morning, wife.”

    She rolled her eyes but didn’t move away. “You really need to stop calling me that.”

    He nuzzled into her hair, his voice still thick with sleep. “Not happening.”

    Astha huffed, but her lips curved into a smile. She turned slightly in his arms, meeting his drowsy, content gaze.

    “I should go,” she said softly.

    Arin lifted an eyebrow. “Or, you could stay.”

    She chuckled. “I have work. We have work.”

    He sighed dramatically, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. “I don’t see the urgency. You’ve already conquered the office with your brilliance.”

    Astha smiled. “I still have a job to do, Mr. Editor-in-Chief.”

    Arin exhaled, pulling her closer for a lingering kiss before finally loosening his grip. “Fine. But let it be known that I’m deeply against this unnecessary separation.”

    She shook her head, pushing the blanket off her and reaching for her clothes. “You’re impossible.”

    “And yet, you keep ending up in my bed,” he teased.

    Astha shot him a warning look, but her cheeks betrayed her, warming under his gaze.


    Office Tension and Stolen Moments

    By the time they reached the office, they had both switched into their professional personas, but the awareness of last night lingered between them.

    Astha had barely sat at her desk when her phone buzzed with a message.

    Arin: Did you always look this beautiful in the morning, or is it my effect on you?

    She bit her lip, shaking her head before typing back.

    Astha: Are you planning to work today, or just annoy me?

    Seconds later, another text arrived.

    Arin: Who says I can’t multitask?

    Astha rolled her eyes and was about to respond when a voice interrupted.

    “Someone’s in a good mood,” Priya from HR teased, leaning against Astha’s desk.

    Astha stiffened slightly. “What do you mean?”

    Priya smiled. “You’re smiling at your phone like a love-struck teenager.”

    Astha quickly schooled her expression. “Just reading something amusing.”

    Priya gave her a knowing look but didn’t push. “Well, whatever it is, it’s working for you. You seem… lighter these days.”

    Astha glanced toward Arin’s office, where he was now reviewing a document with a serious expression, but the moment their eyes met through the glass walls, he smiled.

    She quickly turned away, focusing on her laptop. “I have work to do, Priya.”

    Priya chuckled. “Alright, alright. Just don’t let whatever it is distract you too much.”

    Astha exhaled as Priya walked away, her heart still pounding. Keeping this a secret was going to be harder than she thought.


    A Dinner Invitation

    That evening, as they drove home, Arin glanced at her. “You know, you owe me dinner.”

    Astha frowned. “For what?”

    “For making me work so hard to keep my hands off you all day.”

    She shot him an amused glance. “Oh, poor you. The suffering must have been unbearable.”

    Arin smiled. “It really was. And to compensate, I expect a proper dinner. Tonight. Your place.”

    She raised an eyebrow. “Shanaya will be home.”

    “Good. I haven’t beaten her at Scrabble in a while.”

    Astha laughed. “You never beat her.”

    “That’s beside the point.”

    She sighed, shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re helping with the cooking.”

    Arin grinned. “Done.”

    And just like that, another evening in their tangled, chaotic, and undeniably beautiful world began.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Seven: The Walls Come Down

    The next morning, Astha walked into the office, balancing a file in one hand and her coffee in the other, determined to keep things professional. But the moment she stepped inside, she felt it—Arin’s gaze. It was subtle yet unwavering, like a constant hum in the air between them.

    She sighed and made her way to her desk, pretending she hadn’t noticed. She had barely set her things down when a familiar voice spoke beside her.

    “Morning, wife.”

    Astha nearly choked on her coffee. She turned to Arin, wide-eyed, before whispering harshly, “Arin! I told you not to say that at work.

    He grinned, completely unrepentant. “Relax. No one’s listening.”

    She gave him a glare. “Go to your office.”

    “I will,” he said, placing his hands in his pockets. “After you say good morning properly.”

    Astha sighed. “Good morning, sir.”

    Arin chuckled, shaking his head before finally walking away, leaving Astha rolling her eyes and trying to ignore the warmth creeping up her neck.


    The Unspoken Tension

    By mid-day, the office was buzzing with the usual energy, and Astha tried to focus on her work, but it wasn’t easy when Arin seemed to exist just at the edge of her awareness.

    It wasn’t just his presence—it was the way he moved, the way his eyes found hers across the newsroom, the way his fingers brushed hers when he handed her a file, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

    This was dangerous.

    She had always kept her personal life separate from her work. Always. But now, for the first time, she wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.


    A Late-Night Drive

    By the time the office emptied out that evening, Astha found herself working late. She was the last one left when Arin appeared at her desk, leaning against the partition.

    “You’re still here?” he asked.

    She stretched, sighing. “Yes. Almost done.”

    He studied her for a moment before saying, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

    “I have my car,” she said.

    “I know,” he replied. “But I’d rather drive you home.”

    She hesitated for a second before nodding. “Fine.”

    The drive home was quiet at first, filled only with the low hum of the radio. Then, out of nowhere, Arin asked, “What are you thinking about?”

    Astha exhaled, staring out of the window. “That we’re terrible at keeping things professional.”

    Arin chuckled. “I don’t see the problem.”

    She turned to him. “Of course you don’t.”

    He smiled, then reached over to take her hand, resting their joined hands on his thigh. “Astha, we are married. Maybe not in your world, but in mine, we are bound in ways that no law can undo.”

    She glanced at their entwined fingers, her heart pounding. “I know,” she admitted softly. “But I also know that if we’re not careful, people will talk.”

    Arin exhaled. “Let them.”

    She looked at him, slightly frustrated. “You don’t get it. I don’t want people thinking I got ahead in my career because of you. I’ve worked too hard for that.”

    His expression softened. “I know.”

    “Then help me keep this under control,” she whispered.

    He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. “I will. But when we’re alone, Astha, you’re mine. And I won’t pretend otherwise.”

    She swallowed hard, her heart flipping at the intensity in his voice.

    For the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to pretend either.


    A Night of Confessions

    When they reached their apartment complex, Arin turned to her with a smile. “Do you want to come to my place?”

    Astha hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.” Shanaya was with her parents tonight, and the idea of being alone in her flat didn’t seem as appealing as it usually did.

    Arin’s face lit up with delight. “Good,” he said, leading her inside. As they stepped into his apartment, he pulled her close, his lips brushing her ear. “You know, I never really had a proper wedding night in your world.”

    Astha raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Who said we’re married in this world?”

    Arin leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered, “I do.”

    She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

    He grinned, tightening his hold on her. “And yet, you’re here.”

    Astha let out a mock sigh. “Clearly, I have a thing for impossible men.”

    Arin laughed before tilting her chin up, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that left no room for arguments. The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to savor her. His hands slid down her back, pulling her flush against him, and she felt the strength of his embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping hers.

    Astha curled her fingers into his shirt, tilting her head to give him better access as his lips traced a path down her jawline, lingering at the pulse point on her neck. She let out a soft sigh, her breath hitching when he pressed a kiss against her collarbone.

    “Stay,” Arin murmured against her skin, his voice rough with longing. “Stay with me tonight.”

    She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. His eyes burned with something raw and unguarded, something that made her heart twist.

    She knew what this meant.

    And for once, she wasn’t afraid.

    Astha reached up, cupping his face, brushing her lips against his in a silent answer. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

    A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face before he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the bedroom.

    That night, in the quiet of his world and hers, Arin finally made love to Astha with the tenderness of a man who had waited a lifetime for her. And for the first time, she let herself belong—to the moment, to him, to them.

    And just like that, she stopped resisting.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Six: A New Understanding

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Six: A New Understanding

    Astha arrived in the office. She had barely settled at her desk when a coffee cup was placed beside her. She looked up to see Arin leaning casually against her desk, smirking.

    “Your favorite,” he said, tapping the cup lightly.

    Astha narrowed her eyes. “Thank you. Now go away.”

    Arin placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Ouch. Is this how you treat your devoted husband?”

    “Arin.” She gave him a pointed look. “We talked about this.”

    He sighed, but the amusement in his eyes didn’t fade. “Fine, fine. I’m just here as your very professional editor-in-chief.”

    She scoffed. “Good. Then act like it.”

    He leaned in slightly. “But you do love it when I bring you coffee, don’t you?”

    Astha rolled her eyes. “Yes. And I also love silence.”

    He chuckled but finally relented, heading to his own office.


    The Office Dynamic

    To everyone else, Arin and Astha seemed to maintain their usual dynamic—professional, competitive, with just the right amount of sharp banter. But beneath the surface, something had shifted.

    When he reviewed her articles, she could feel the warmth in his gaze, the way he lingered slightly when handing her notes. When they crossed paths in the hallway, there was a fleeting brush of fingers, so quick that no one else would notice. And then there were the stolen glances—silent conversations held across the newsroom, a language only they understood.

    Shanaya, of course, was the first to pick up on it.

    One evening, as Astha was typing on her laptop at home, Shanaya plopped down beside her with a knowing smirk.

    “So, you and the boss man seem to be getting along really well these days.”

    Astha didn’t even look up. “We’ve always gotten along.”

    Shanaya snorted. “Oh please. Last month, you wanted to push him off a cliff.”

    Astha smiled. “That feeling still hasn’t gone away.”

    “But now, you’d probably jump after him.”

    Astha shot her a look, but Shanaya just grinned. “Mom, you look happy. Like… actually happy. It’s weird.”

    Astha sighed, closing her laptop. “Is it that obvious?”

    Shanaya nodded. “To me? Yes. To others? Maybe not yet. But it’s only a matter of time.”

    Astha exhaled. “I just… don’t want people gossiping. And I don’t want things to change.”

    Shanaya softened. “Mom, things have already changed. Maybe it’s time to just… go with it?”

    Astha stared at her daughter for a moment, then pulled her into a side hug. “When did you get so wise?”

    Shanaya grinned. “I’ve always been wise. You just never noticed.”


    A Private Moment

    That night, Astha stepped onto her balcony for some fresh air, only to find Arin standing on his own, waiting.

    He looked up when he saw her, his expression softening. “Couldn’t sleep?”

    She shrugged. “Just needed air.”

    He leaned against the railing. “So… how did I do today? Professional enough?”

    She smiled. “Surprisingly, yes. Though the coffee stunt was unnecessary.”

    “Not a stunt,” he corrected. “Just love.”

    Astha’s heart skipped a beat. She exhaled slowly. “Arin…”

    He studied her for a moment. “You’re overthinking again.”

    She sighed. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve been alone for so long, managing everything by myself. And now you’re here, slipping into every part of my life like you belong.”

    His voice was gentle. “Maybe because I do.”

    She looked away. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

    He stepped closer, tilting her chin up so she met his eyes. “You won’t.”

    She swallowed. “You’re awfully confident about that.”

    He smiled. “Because I know us. I know you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

    She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Then, finally, she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

    For the first time, Astha let herself believe him.


  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Five: Bonded by Fate

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Five: Bonded by Fate

    The next morning, as they met for their daily commute, Arin’s gaze lingered on Astha with unmistakable possession. As she approached, he smiled and greeted her, “Hello, wife.”

    Astha’s eyes widened, and she quickly shushed him. “Arin! Someone will hear us.”

    He chuckled, his expression far too amused for her liking. “So?”

    Rolling her eyes, she climbed into the car. The moment she settled in, she felt the warmth of his hand resting on her thigh. She glanced at him, arching a brow. “What do you think you’re doing?”

    Arin leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear. “At least when we’re alone, you can be my wife.”

    Astha didn’t say anything, but her pulse quickened. His touch, possessive yet gentle, sent an unfamiliar thrill through her. She looked out of the window, pretending not to notice, but Arin wasn’t letting this go.

    “You know,” he continued, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin, “I’m the happiest man in the world.”

    She turned to him, smiling but intrigued. “When did you realize you loved me?”

    Arin exhaled, his smile softening. “It wasn’t just one moment. It was every moment.” His gaze turned thoughtful. “Every time you fought me, every time you made me laugh, every time you wrote something that made my heart stop. The way you take care of your parents, the way you’re so stubborn about your independence, the way you love Shanaya more than anything in the world. Every little thing made me fall harder.”

    Astha’s throat went dry. No one had ever spoken about her like this. She was used to being admired for her work, for her intellect, but this… this was different.

    She cleared her throat, trying to push back the overwhelming emotion rising in her chest. “And here I thought you just liked arguing with me.”

    Arin chuckled, his fingers tightening around hers. “I do. I wouldn’t trade our banter for anything.”

    She hesitated before asking, “And what if I had never loved you back?”

    Arin shrugged. “I would’ve kept loving you anyway.”

    Astha swallowed, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. She turned her hand over, lacing her fingers with his. “You want to know when I fell in love with you?”

    Arin tilted his head. “I do.”

    She took a deep breath. “It started in Udaipur. When you cared for me, made sure I was okay without asking for anything in return. And then, when my mother fainted, the way you took care of my father, of Shanaya… of me.” She hesitated before admitting, “That’s when I knew.”

    Arin’s fingers tightened around hers, his expression unreadable. “And yet, you kept running.”

    Astha smiled. “Of course. You were too smug. I couldn’t let you win so easily.”

    Arin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

    Astha leaned her head back against the seat, smiling to herself. “I prefer the term ‘challenging.’”

    Arin brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of her palm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

    They drove in comfortable silence for a while, but Astha’s practical side kicked in. “Arin, we need to be professional about this in the office. I don’t want people gossiping.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “You think people don’t already gossip about us?”

    She rolled her eyes. “I mean it. No unnecessary attention. No calling me ‘wife’ in the middle of meetings. No unnecessary touching at work.”

    Arin sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll behave. But only at work.”

    She eyed him suspiciously. “And outside work?”

    His smirk returned. “No promises.”

    Astha huffed, shaking her head. “Hopeless.”

    Arin leaned in just before they reached the office parking lot. “Hopelessly in love with you, Mrs. Verma.”

    She groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

    “And you love it.”

    Astha didn’t respond, but the small, hidden smile on her lips told him everything he needed to know.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Three: A Storm Brewing

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Three: A Storm Brewing

    Arin couldn’t sleep.

    He had paced the length of his apartment more times than he could count, the conversation with Astha playing on repeat in his mind. Why does it bother you so much?

    He didn’t have a clear answer, but the tightness in his chest every time Raghav was around her told him it wasn’t something he could dismiss anymore.

    And Astha—she knew. That was what irked him the most. She had sensed his irritation, read between the lines, and thrown it right back at him. Figure it out, Verma.

    Damn her.

    Damn himself for not being able to.


    The Next Day: Tension in the Air

    The ride was silent. Astha was at her desk the next morning, as composed as ever. If last night’s conversation had affected her, she didn’t show it.

    Arin walked in, expecting at least a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, but she barely acknowledged him.

    Fine. Two could play this game.

    He was about to head to his office when Raghav approached Astha’s desk.

    Again?

    “Morning, Astha. Up for another field assignment this weekend?” Raghav asked casually, leaning over her desk.

    Astha glanced at the printed itinerary he handed her. “What’s this?”

    “Follow-up interviews with the artists. The head office thinks it could be a good feature series.”

    Arin’s jaw tightened. A full weekend assignment? With Raghav?

    “I’m not sure,” Astha replied. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

    “Oh come on, it’ll be fun. You and me, road trip style.” Raghav winked.

    Arin stepped forward before he could stop himself. “Is this assignment necessary?” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

    Raghav turned to him, surprised. “The head office suggested it.”

    “Then I’d like to review the necessity of sending two senior journalists on an extended trip for a story that could easily be covered remotely.” Arin’s tone was clipped.

    Astha shot him a sharp look. “We haven’t even discussed this yet, Verma.”

    “I’m discussing it now.”

    Raghav chuckled. “Boss, are you concerned about our productivity or something else?”

    Arin’s gaze snapped to Raghav’s, unblinking. “My concern is making sure resources are utilized efficiently.”

    Astha stood up, pushing her chair back. “Enough.”

    The command in her voice made both men pause.

    She exhaled, looking directly at Arin. “If you have a problem, say it outright. Stop making it about work.”

    Arin clenched his fists at his sides. He couldn’t say it. Not here. Not now.

    Instead, he turned to Raghav. “You’ll receive my decision by the end of the day.”

    Without another word, he strode back to his office, leaving a thick silence in his wake.


    The Balcony Showdown

    That evening, Astha was on her balcony when she spotted Arin leaning against his own railing, a storm brewing in his eyes.

    She sighed. “Are you going to keep this up?”

    Arin’s jaw clenched. “You could’ve said no.”

    Astha scoffed. “Are you hearing yourself? Since when do I need to run my assignments by you?”

    “You don’t,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

    She crossed her arms. “So, what is this, Verma? You don’t like it when Raghav talks to me. You don’t like it when I laugh at his jokes. And now, you don’t want me working with him either? What’s next—banning me from speaking to male colleagues?”

    His silence spoke louder than words.

    Astha’s brows lifted. “Oh my god. You are jealous.”

    Arin exhaled through his nose. “I don’t get jealous.”

    She smiled. “Then what is this, Verma? Workplace efficiency?”

    He took a step closer, his voice lower, more intense. “I don’t trust him.”

    Astha scoffed. “Oh please. He’s harmless.”

    Arin tilted his head, gaze unwavering. “And what if he isn’t?”

    She frowned. “Arin, you don’t get to decide who I trust.”

    He let out a humorless laugh. “It’s not about trust, Astha. It’s about the fact that the thought of you going away with him bothers me. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

    Silence stretched between them.

    For the first time, Astha saw something in his eyes she hadn’t before. Vulnerability.

    She swallowed. “You could start by admitting it.”

    Arin didn’t answer. He just stared at her, as if trying to read something beyond the words she had spoken.

    Then, without another word, he turned and walked back into his apartment, leaving Astha standing there, her heart pounding.

    She had won the argument.

    But why did it feel like she had lost something far greater?

    The Discovery

    The next evening, after a particularly long day at the office, Astha was on her way to her apartment when she noticed something strange—Arin’s door was open.

    That was odd. Arin was never careless. Curious, she stepped inside.

    “Arin?” she called out.

    There was no answer.

    Then she saw it.

    A dim, pulsating light hovering in front of Arin. Before she could make sense of it, the light disappeared into nothingness, vanishing as if it had never been there.

    She blinked, her heart racing. “What the hell was that?”

    Arin turned sharply, startled by her presence. A flicker of something—guilt? hesitation?—passed over his face. But he didn’t deny what she had seen.

    “Astha…”

    She folded her arms. “No, don’t Astha me. What did I just see?”

    Arin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He knew this moment would come eventually. He had just hoped it wouldn’t be now.

    “Astha,” he said slowly, “I need you to listen carefully.”

    “I’m listening.”

    He hesitated for only a second before he looked straight into her eyes and recited:

    “What we yearn to find, does it yearn for us?
    What we dream of, does it dream of us?
    What I seek, is it my seeker too?
    If that is true, will I ever meet you?”

    Astha inhaled sharply. “That’s my poem.”

    “That’s what brought me here.”

    She frowned, confused. “What?”

    “I’m not from this time.”

    Astha let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, Arin. Is this some elaborate joke?”

    “I wish it was.”

    She studied him carefully. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something ancient, something vast. A shiver ran down her spine.

    “If you’re really from another world,” she said, crossing her arms, “prove it. Take me there.”

    Arin stiffened. “No.”

    ===“No?”

    “It’s dangerous.”

    Astha scoffed. “I can handle it.”

    “Astha.” His voice was lower now, urgent. “You don’t understand. My world isn’t like yours. You don’t belong there.”

    She lifted her chin. “Then prove it.”

    Arin closed his eyes briefly before exhaling sharply. He knew she wouldn’t back down.

    “Fine,” he said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

    He stepped toward her, reaching out, and before she could react, the world around them shifted.


    A World Beyond Time

    When Astha opened her eyes, she knew, in an instant, that this wasn’t Earth.

    The sky above them shimmered in hues she had never seen before—silvers and deep violets swirling together like liquid metal. The ground beneath them pulsed softly, as though the very fabric of reality breathed beneath her feet. The air itself was different—crisper, charged with an energy she could feel humming against her skin.

    She turned to Arin, speechless.

    “You were telling the truth,” she whispered.

    “I told you it was dangerous.”

    Before she could respond, figures emerged from the shadows—tall, imposing beings dressed in deep blue robes. Their gazes were cold, knowing. The Elders.

    One of them stepped forward. “Arin Verma,” the Elder intoned. “You were on an observation mission.” His gaze flickered to Astha. “Explain the presence of this stranger.”

    Arin’s grip on her wrist tightened. “She is not a stranger.”

    The Elder’s expression darkened. “You have broken the code.”

    “I have not. I love this woman,” Arin said, his voice steady.

    A murmur spread among the Elders.

    One of them stepped forward. “Lies,” he said coldly. “You told us you were merely observing. This is deception.”

    Arin’s jaw clenched. “It’s the truth.”

    The Elder lifted his hand, and suddenly, a crackling energy formed around his palm. “Then you must pay the price.”

    Before Arin could react, the energy bolt shot toward him. But in the blink of an eye, Astha moved—

    Right into its path.

    The energy struck her, and she collapsed.

    Arin caught her before she hit the ground. “Astha!” His voice was raw, desperate.

    She smiled weakly, her body trembling. “I love you too, Verma.”

    Arin held her tightly, his eyes blazing with fury as he looked up at the Elders. “You will fix this.”

    The Elders stared, stunned. One of them whispered, “She sacrificed herself… for a Time Keeper?”

    Another murmured, “Unheard of…”

    One of the Elders stepped forward. “We can restore her. But only if she stays.”

    Astha, though in pain, let out a weak laugh. “I’d rather die.”

    The Elder’s gaze flickered with something unreadable before he sighed. “Very well, we shall revive her. “

    A glow surrounded Astha, and she gasped, her pain easing, her body strengthening. She was alive.

    “Take her home, Arin Verma.”


    A Love Confessed

    The moment they stepped back into Astha’s apartment, Arin snapped.

    Without warning, he pulled her into his arms, crushing his lips against hers. It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, raw, claiming.

    She gasped against his mouth but didn’t pull away. Instead, she melted into him, her hands clutching his shirt.

    When they finally broke apart, Arin cupped her face, his breath ragged. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

    Astha blinked. “Tell you what?”

    “That you love me.”

    Her throat tightened. “I—”

    “say it again. Tell me that you love me!”

    “I love you Arin.”

    “You almost died, Astha.” His voice was rough. “Do you even understand what that did to me?”

    She swallowed. “I didn’t realize it until that moment. When they tried to kill you, I knew—I couldn’t live in a world without you.”

    Arin let out a shaky breath before pulling her into another fierce embrace. “Then don’t.”

    That night, in the quiet of his world, Arin finally made her his. Not just in words, but in the way he touched her, in the way he worshipped her, in the way he loved her.

    And for the first time, Astha didn’t resist.

    She belonged to him.


  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty One: The First Signs of Possession

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty One: The First Signs of Possession

    Raghav Malhotra was charming, quick-witted, and unashamedly flirtatious. Arin disliked him immediately.

    At first, he dismissed it as professional disinterest—he didn’t care what kind of man Raghav was. But the irritation began to simmer the first time he saw Astha laughing at Raghav’s jokes.

    Then came the assignment.

    Astha and Raghav were tasked with covering a feature on local artists, requiring them to spend a full day outside the office, interviewing and documenting their subjects.

    Arin didn’t like it.

    He told himself he was being unreasonable. Astha was a grown woman; she had worked with other male colleagues before. And yet, when she left that morning with Raghav, a gnawing frustration settled deep within him.

    That night, as he leaned against his balcony, waiting, he told himself he wasn’t waiting—he was simply outside for fresh air.

    Then he saw her return.

    Her hair was slightly tousled, her eyes bright, and there was an easy smile on her face as she took off her sandals and stretched.

    “Had fun?” Arin asked, his voice carrying through the night air.

    Astha looked up, startled, before smiling. “Oh, you’re still awake?”

    He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

    She leaned against the balcony railing. “It was good. Raghav is a funny guy with an amazing sense of humor.”

    Something in Arin’s jaw tightened. “I see.”

    She raised an eyebrow. “What’s with that tone?”

    “Nothing.”

    Astha smiled. “Are you jealous, Verma?”

    Arin met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “I don’t get jealous.”

    Astha chuckled. “Right.”

    But the conversation stayed with Arin long after she had gone inside. Because for the first time, he questioned whether that was really true.

  • THE TIMEKEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty: A Home for Him

    THE TIMEKEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty: A Home for Him

    A week later, the Mehra household had regained its warmth and rhythm. Arin, much to Astha’s irritation—and mild amusement—had become a fixture in their home. He self-invited himself to dinners, played carrom with her father, mentored Shanaya in her subjects, and even placed coffee on Astha’s desk when she looked exhausted, saying nothing but smirking at her reaction.

    One evening, Shanaya plopped onto the couch and grinned mischievously. “Alright, it’s time for a real match. Arin versus Mom. No alliances. Just pure battle.”

    Astha narrowed her eyes. “And what role do you play in this ‘battle’?”

    Shanaya shrugged. “The commentator, obviously.”

    Arin smiled. “I accept.”

    The game began, and with every move, there was a memory.

    Astha placed ‘Mirth’ on a double word score. “Like the way you smirk whenever you put coffee on my desk, Verma.”

    Arin chuckled and placed ‘Retort’. “Like how you never fail to have one, Mehra.”

    Shanaya clapped. “This is better than TV.”

    Astha laid down ‘Fiasco’. “Like your last attempt at cooking in our kitchen. I’m still recovering from that disaster.”

    Arin smiled. “You didn’t have to eat it.” He placed ‘Redeem’. “And yet, I saved you from writing that atrocious lead paragraph last week, didn’t I?”

    Astha huffed. “It was fine.”

    “Debatable.”

    The match continued, filled with their usual banter. Astha’s parents watched with amusement, exchanging knowing glances. Shanaya provided commentary, dramatically gasping whenever one of them pulled off a particularly good move.

    As the final scores tallied, Astha won by a mere four points.

    Arin leaned back, arms crossed. “I demand a rematch.”

    Astha smiled. “In your dreams, Verma.”

    As the night wound down, Astha caught herself watching Arin laugh with her family, his presence so seamlessly woven into their lives. The thought hit her suddenly—

    Somewhere along the way, Arin had stopped being an outsider.

    He was home.

    And that terrified her.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Eight: Unfinished Conversations

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Eight: Unfinished Conversations

    The soft ripple of water and the distant hum of the last lingering voices surrounded them. Arin sat still, watching Astha as she absentmindedly ran her fingers over the edge of the stone bench. The flickering lanterns from the lakeside restaurant cast long shadows, painting the moment in quiet intimacy.

    Astha exhaled, leaning back against the bench. “You keep saying that, Verma.”

    “Saying what?”

    “That I should let people see this side of me.” She tilted her head, looking at him. “Why does it matter to you?”

    Arin didn’t answer immediately. His fingers curled around the edge of the bench, his gaze fixed on the water.

    “Because,” he finally said, “I think you don’t let people in, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re afraid that if you do, they’ll expect too much. That they’ll want parts of you that you’re not willing to give anymore.”

    Astha froze slightly, the ease in her expression faltering.

    Arin turned to her, his voice softer. “Am I wrong?”

    She inhaled sharply and let out a humorless chuckle. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

    He smiled. “Nope.”

    She shook her head, staring at the lake. “You’re not wrong,” she admitted after a pause. “I’ve spent years making sure I keep my world in balance. My daughter, my parents, my work… There’s no space for anything else. And even if there was…” She trailed off.

    Arin waited. “Even if there was?”

    Astha let out a slow breath. “I don’t think I know how to let someone in anymore.”

    Silence stretched between them. Not the uncomfortable kind, but the kind that carried weight. Understanding.

    Arin exhaled, leaning back. “It’s not something you have to know how to do. It just happens.”

    Astha scoffed. “Oh, so wise now?”

    He grinned. “Always.”

    She nudged his arm with her elbow. “Annoying, more like.”

    Arin chuckled, shaking his head.


    A Late-Night Walk and a Moment of Clarity

    They started walking back toward the guesthouse. The streets were quieter now, the city slipping into sleep. Astha wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the cool night air against her skin.

    Arin noticed and instinctively shrugged off his light jacket. Without a word, he draped it over her shoulders.

    Astha blinked in surprise. “You didn’t have to do that.”

    Arin smiled. “I know. But you’re shivering, and I don’t feel like listening to you complain about how cold it was tomorrow.”

    She rolled her eyes but pulled the jacket tighter around herself. “Efficient as always, Mr. Editor.”

    “Someone has to be,” he teased.

    They continued walking, their steps in sync.

    Then, out of nowhere, Astha spoke. “You know, this was never supposed to happen.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “What wasn’t?”

    “This. Us. Whatever this is.”

    He stopped walking. “And what is this?”

    Astha hesitated. “I don’t know.”

    Arin studied her for a long moment. “Do you want to know?”

    She let out a nervous laugh. “No. That’s the problem.”

    Arin exhaled. He understood what she was saying—what she wasn’t saying. Astha had spent years building walls, keeping herself safe in the predictability of her life. And here he was, shaking those foundations without even trying.

    “I won’t push you,” he said finally. “But I’m not going to pretend that something’s not happening between us.”

    Astha looked at him then, her guarded expression softening just slightly. “I know.”

    And that was enough. For now.


    The Unwelcome Surprise

    They reached the guesthouse, and just as Astha was about to push open the door, her phone buzzed.

    She pulled it out, frowning at the name on the screen. “It’s my dad.”

    Arin watched as her expression changed from mild curiosity to concern as she answered.

    “Hello? Papa?”

    A pause. Then, “What? What happened?”

    Arin immediately straightened.

    Astha pressed a hand to her forehead. “I—okay, I’ll be there. I’ll take the next bus back.”

    Arin didn’t wait for her to explain. “What’s wrong?”

    She pocketed her phone, her face unreadable. “My mom fainted at home. She’s conscious now, but they’re taking her to the hospital for tests. I need to go back.”

    Arin nodded. “I’m coming with you.”

    Astha opened her mouth, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes told her there was no point.

    She exhaled. “Fine. But if you start acting all protective and hovering, I will throw you off the bus.”

    Arin smiled. “Noted.”


    The Journey Home

    They boarded a late-night bus back to their city, the urgency of the situation keeping both of them alert despite the exhaustion settling in. Astha sat by the window, staring out into the darkness, her fingers tapping restlessly against her knee.

    Arin reached out, covering her hand with his.

    Astha turned to look at him.

    “She’ll be okay,” he said quietly.

    Astha didn’t speak for a moment. Then, her fingers curled slightly beneath his.

    It wasn’t much.

    But it was enough.

    The Arrival and the Hospital Visit

    When they reached the hospital, Astha saw her father standing by the waiting area. The exhaustion in his eyes was clear, but he managed a small, reassuring smile.

    Shanaya ran up to Astha and hugged her tightly. Astha could feel her daughter trembling slightly and, when she pulled back, saw the redness in her eyes.

    Astha gently wiped Shanaya’s tears away. “She’s going to be fine, sweetheart. But right now, I need you to be strong. For Grandma. For Grandpa.”

    Shanaya sniffled but nodded, determination settling into her features. “I will, Mom.”

    Astha turned to her father. “You and Shanaya should go home. Get some rest. I’ll stay here and bring Mom home when she’s ready.”

    Her father hesitated but finally nodded. Shanaya hugged her once more before leaving with him.

    “I’ll stay too,” Arin said simply.

    Astha turned to him, frowning. “No, you don’t have to. It’s late, and you’ve already done enough.”

    Arin crossed his arms. “You’re right. I don’t have to. But I want to.”

    She sighed but didn’t argue further. As she sat in the chair, Arin could see the way she was trying to mask her worries.

    “I’ll get you some coffee,” he said, before walking off.

    When he returned, he found Astha sitting with her hands covering her face, silent tears slipping through her fingers.

    Without a word, he sat beside her. “I’m here,” he said softly.

    She kept crying, leaning slightly toward him, until she realized—too late—that her tears had soaked his shirt. She pulled away, embarrassed. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

    Arin smiled. “I’m honored to be your personal tissue, Mehra.”

    Despite herself, Astha let out a watery chuckle. “You’re impossible.”

    Arin took a napkin and gently wiped the stray tears off her cheek. As he did, something shifted inside him. He knew, in that moment, that he couldn’t just leave her. Not now. Not ever.

    “Drink your coffee,” he said gently, placing the cup in her hands. “You need it.”

    Astha took a sip, then exhaled. “You should go home, Arin. You have work tomorrow.”

    “I’ll manage,” he said firmly. “Now, relax.”

    She stared at him for a moment before finally giving up. Curling up on the seat, she rested her head against the armrest, exhaustion finally taking over. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep.

    Arin watched her, his expression unreadable. Something about seeing her like this—so unguarded, so vulnerable—made something shift inside him. He had never cared about staying in one place before, but now, looking at Astha, he realized something undeniable.

    He wanted to stay.

    And he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  • THE TIME TRAVELER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty One: The Journey Begins

    THE TIME TRAVELER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty One: The Journey Begins

    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.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Twenty Six: A Secret Plea

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Twenty Six: A Secret Plea

    Later that evening, just as Arin was settling in, he heard a soft knock on his door. Opening it, he found Shanaya standing there, clutching a notebook against her chest with the look of someone about to commit a crime.

    “I need your help,” she whispered conspiratorially.

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “With what exactly?”

    She sighed dramatically. “An English essay. Mom wants me to suffer and cry, but I’m not an English person—I’m an artist, okay? So, you need to help me. And Mom can never know.”

    Arin smiled, crossing his arms. “You want me to be your secret academic accomplice?”

    “Yes!” she hissed. “I’ll owe you one. Just… don’t make it too obvious, or she’ll know.”

    Arin chuckled, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with.”

    As Shanaya slipped inside, grinning, Arin wondered just how deep he was getting entangled in this family’s world.

    And why he didn’t mind at all.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Twenty Three: A Gift for Everyone

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Twenty Three: A Gift for Everyone

    That afternoon, Arin sat at his desk, deep in thought. If he wanted things to change for Astha, he couldn’t make it obvious. She would never accept anything just for herself. But if it was something that involved everyone…

    An idea formed.

    Calling a meeting with the entire staff, Arin stood before them and smiled. “Though Christmas is months away, I’ve decided to start a new tradition—Secret Santa. Starting this week, everyone will pick a name from the basket and become that person’s Secret Santa.”

    There were murmurs of excitement in the room.

    “The rule is simple—don’t reveal yourself, but make your person’s time in the office a little brighter. You can do it with small notes, gifts, or anything that brings a smile to their face. After a month, we’ll all reveal our Secret Santas.”

    Laughter and chatter filled the air as people eagerly picked names. Arin quietly looked at Astha. She was smiling, but in that resigned way—shaking her head as if indulging in something she found ridiculous yet endearing.

    When the basket arrived at his desk, Arin reached inside and pulled out a folded chit. He opened it, and his gaze lingered on the name written there: Astha Mehra.

    He stared at it for a moment, something stirring in his chest. Out of all the people in this office, I got her name? What were the odds? What was at play here? Destiny?

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM- Chapter Nineteen- An Unfamiliar Feeling

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM- Chapter Nineteen- An Unfamiliar Feeling

    The next morning, Arin woke up with an odd sense of contentment. It was a sensation he wasn’t accustomed to—something light, something warm. He had spent years training himself to be emotionally detached, to observe rather than participate. And yet, after last night, he felt different.

    He had laughed. He had felt like he belonged.

    And it had nothing to do with his mission.

    As he stepped out onto his balcony, he caught sight of Astha doing the same. She was sipping her coffee, glasses slightly askew, her hair still a bit messy from sleep. She didn’t notice him at first—she was staring at the sky, lost in thought.

    “You’re up early,” Arin commented.

    Astha glanced at him, unimpressed. “You say that like it’s a choice. I have a job, a teenager, and a coffee addiction that demands sacrifice.”

    Arin smiled. “A noble cause.”

    She took another sip before looking at him properly. “So, how does it feel to be a survivor of our legendary movie roast night?”

    “I think I need time to process it,” he admitted. “There was… a lot of unexpected emotional trauma.”

    Astha’s lips quirked into a smile. “Good. You’re learning.”

    Before Arin could respond, Shanaya’s voice echoed from inside. “Mom! Where’s my history book? And also, why does the cat look like he’s planning something?”

    Astha sighed, rubbing her temple. “The book is where you last threw it, and the cat has always been plotting your downfall. This is not new information.”

    Shanaya appeared in the doorway, looking at Arin with interest. “Oh hey, he’s still here.”

    “I live here,” Arin pointed out.

    Shanaya shrugged. “That remains to be seen. The real test of your endurance is surviving a week of us.”

    Astha nodded sagely. “She’s not wrong.”

    Arin leaned against the railing, studying them both. “And what happens if I pass this test?”

    Astha took another sip of tea, her voice utterly serious. “Then, congratulations. You get to carry grocery bags indefinitely.”

    Arin chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

    As the morning sun bathed the balcony in golden light, Arin felt something strange settle in his chest. Something that had nothing to do with time or duty.

    Something that felt a lot like home.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eleven: The First Ride

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eleven: The First Ride

    The next morning, Astha walked out of her apartment, adjusting the strap of her bag as she made her way to the parking lot. She wasn’t particularly excited about the carpool arrangement, but she had agreed to it without much thought. These initiatives never lasted anyway.

    As she neared the car, she found Arin already waiting, leaning against the driver’s side with his usual composed expression. He gave her a polite nod before opening the door. “Morning. Ready to go?”

    She slid into the passenger seat, buckling up as she adjusted her glasses. “Sure. Let’s get this over with.”

    Arin started the car, the engine humming softly as they pulled out of the parking lot. The silence between them was not awkward, but rather filled with an unspoken understanding—neither was particularly interested in forced small talk.

    Astha glanced out of the window, watching the city wake up. “So, what’s the plan? You drive this week, I drive next?”

    Arin nodded. “That’s what we agreed upon. Unless you’d prefer a different arrangement.”

    “No, this works,” she said with a shrug. “Just don’t expect me to be chatty in the mornings.”

    Arin’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “Noted.”

    They continued the drive in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the radio. Astha appreciated that Arin didn’t feel the need to fill the space with unnecessary conversation. He drove smoothly, his focus unwavering, as if even this simple task was part of a greater purpose.

    Astha found herself sneaking a glance at him. There was something about the way he carried himself—calm, unshaken, yet strangely observant. It was as if he was always paying attention, always trying to piece together the world around him.

    As they approached the office, Arin finally spoke. “Would you like me to pick you up in the evening as well, or would you prefer to manage your way back separately?”

    Astha considered for a moment before responding. “Might as well keep it simple. Pick me up when you leave.”

    Arin nodded, as if he had expected her response. “Alright.”

    The moment the car came to a stop in the office parking lot, Astha was already unbuckling her seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride. See you later.”

    Before he could respond, she was out the door, making her way inside without a second glance.

    Arin watched her go, a faint trace of curiosity flickering in his expression. She was different from anyone he had met before—unmoved by his presence, indifferent to the little changes he was introducing into her life.

    And that only made him want to understand her more.

  • THE TIME TRAVELER’S POEM: Chapter Nine:  Unexpected Exchange

    THE TIME TRAVELER’S POEM: Chapter Nine: Unexpected Exchange

    A few days had passed since Arin had spent time in Astha’s apartment waiting for the locksmith. Their interactions remained brief—polite nods in the hallway, an occasional good morning exchanged as they left for work. Yet, something about their dynamic had shifted.

    One evening, Arin stood at his balcony, leaning against the railing. His gaze drifted to the adjoining space, where Astha sat curled up on a swing, a cup of tea resting in her hands, the soft hum of an old radio playing in the background. The gentle strains of a familiar melody carried through the air, blending with the evening breeze.

    She seemed at ease, lost in thought, her fingers curled around the ceramic of her mug. Arin watched as she closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the music, before taking another sip of tea.

    Sensing his gaze, she turned her head slightly and caught him watching. “Are you always this quiet, Mr. Verma? Or is that your way of observing the world?”

    Arin didn’t flinch at being caught. Instead, he offered a small, knowing smile. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

    Astha set her tea down, crossing her arms. “How was your day?”

    The question surprised him. He hadn’t expected her to initiate conversation, yet here she was, casually asking as though they had been doing this for years.

    “Uneventful,” he admitted. “And yours?”

    “Busy, as usual.” She shrugged. “But this moment—tea, music, the evening breeze—makes up for it.”

    Arin nodded, observing the way she seemed to melt into the moment. There was something peaceful about her, something that made him question the efficiency-driven world he had left behind.

    For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t thinking about time.

    He was simply existing in it.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eight: Encounters

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Eight: Encounters

    A few days had passed since Arin moved into the apartment next to Astha’s. Despite their close proximity, their interactions had been minimal—cordial nods in the hallway, brief exchanges in the elevator. Astha was polite but distant, just as she was at work.

    One evening, as Astha returned home with a bag of groceries, she found Arin standing by his door, his sleeves rolled up, a small toolbox on the ground beside him.

    “Problem?” she asked, glancing at the door.

    “Locked myself out,” he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Apparently, technology fails even the best of us.”

    She smiled, unlocking her own door. “Welcome to the joys of being human.”

    “I suppose I should embrace the experience fully,” he said, watching as she pushed her door open.

    Astha hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Want to wait inside until the locksmith comes?”

    Arin raised a brow, surprised by the offer. “That would be appreciated.”

    She led him inside, setting her groceries down on the counter. The space was warm, lived-in—books stacked on tables, framed photos on the shelves. It was nothing like the orderly, minimalist world he had come from.

    She disappeared into the kitchen, emerging with two cups of tea. “Here,” she said, handing him one. “You look like a coffee guy, but tea is what I’ve got.”

    Arin accepted it, studying her. She wasn’t one for small talk, but she had her own way of being hospitable.

    “Thank you,” he said, taking a sip.

    For the first time since he arrived, he wasn’t just observing her from a distance.

    He was stepping into her world.