The second morning at the Lonavala trip dawned lazily. Mist blanketed the trees, and birds chirped over the soft rustling of leaves. Zoya stood by the window of her cabin, clutching a warm cup of chai, her thoughts drifting like the fog outside.

Everything still felt like a dream — the duet under fairy lights, Akif's gaze burning into hers, and the applause that still echoed in her ears. But reality hit when Aarfa barged in, half-braided hair and one sock on.

“Today’s plan is trekking till lunch and bonfire tonight again!” Aarfa announced dramatically. “They want us to sing again, by the way. You’re famous now, madam.”

Zoya rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

But she smiled.

---

By evening, the field near the cabins turned golden under the setting sun. The group was buzzing again — marshmallows, guitars, picnic blankets, and speakers. It felt like one of those scenes from a music video — laughter, people lying in circles, and secret glances exchanged like folded love letters.

Zoya sat on a log, hoodie wrapped tightly, when Akif took the spot beside her — silently, like he always did.

She glanced sideways. “Aren’t you cold?”

He shook his head. “I don’t feel it.”

“That’s such a hero answer,” she teased.

He smirked, eyes on the fire.

Moments passed. Then, unexpectedly, he spoke. “That night you sang... I think I forgot how to breathe.”

Her heart tripped.

She looked down, hiding her smile in the folds of her sleeves. “You’re good at saying things when I least expect it.”

“I only say them when they’re true.”

There it was again — that silence between them, loud and comforting.

Before she could reply, Aarfa dragged her away, yelling, “Group game time!”

They all sat in a circle. Someone shouted, “Truth or dare!”

Classic.

It started light. Silly dares. Confessions. Then it hit Zoya’s turn.

“Truth,” she said calmly.

“Have you ever had a crush on someone here?” one of the boys asked with a teasing grin.

The group went, “Ooooooh.”

Zoya blinked. Her eyes flicked — just for a second — toward Akif.

Then she smiled slyly. “Next question.”

Laughter exploded around.

It was Akif’s turn next.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you have a crush on someone here?”

He didn’t flinch. His gaze moved across the circle, slow, unbothered — and then, briefly, it met hers.

And he said, “Yes.”

That was it. No name. No smirk. Just the truth.

Her heart started tap dancing.

---

Later, as the group roasted marshmallows, Aarfa sat with Ayaan, clearly wrapped up in their own moment.

Zoya was alone again — until Akif returned, this time offering her a slightly burnt marshmallow on a stick.

“For the star of the night,” he said.

She took it with a quiet laugh. “It’s burnt.”

“Only slightly. Still sweet inside.”

Like her, she thought.

They stood near the edge of the woods now, away from the group. And when the firelight dimmed, and only the soft hum of laughter filled the air behind them, Akif spoke again.

“Do you ever feel like you’re finally in the right place, but you’re still scared?”

Zoya looked at him, something in her chest pulling.

“All the time.”

He nodded, as if he already knew her answer.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I’m not scared anymore. Not when I’m around you.”

And even though she said nothing, her fingers slightly brushed his as they stood side by side in the dark.

And he didn’t moved.

Is it getting fun? Romantic? Should I already get them together?

~Annie🔥💋