The next morning, Mira found herself late again.
And, as always, it wasn’t her fault entirely.
Some invisible force had kept her tossing and turning all night, replaying a man’s words and a lifetime of déjà vu.
She dashed out of her apartment, umbrella in one hand, coffee in the other, and barely noticed she had splashed a puddle all over a pedestrian’s expensive shoes.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” a deep voice barked.
Mira looked up of course, it was Aarav Vale.
Standing there like he had been waiting for her to mess up.
Which, apparently, he had.
Again.
She froze. Coffee in hand, soaked hair clinging to her face.
“I… I’m so sorry. I ”
He arched an eyebrow, expression deadpan. “That’s your solution? Spill coffee on strangers and call it ‘sorry’?”
Mira blinked.
His voice the same quiet storm from last nightnmade her knees wobble. She tried to compose herself.
“Uh… no, I ”
Before she could finish, a loud splash! announced her next misstep.
She slipped on the wet pavement, arms flailing, umbrella spinning like a propeller.
Aarav caught her effortlessly, one arm around her waist, the other steadying her shoulder.
“Seriously?” he said, his tone flat but the corner of his lips betrayed a smirk.
Mira, blushing fiercely, tried to untangle herself.
“I’m… clumsy,” she admitted, heat rising in her ears. “Apparently, dangerously clumsy.”
He sighed, holding her just a second longer than necessary.
“Dangerous? You’ve no idea.”
The way he said it like he meant it in every timeline, every universe made her stomach twist.
She could feel it, as if the air itself hummed between them.
“And you,” she said, trying to regain some dignity, “look like you do this on purpose.”
Aarav’s eyebrow quirked. .
“Do what?”
“Stand there, acting all calm and mysterious while the world falls apart around me.”
His smirk finally broke free. “I call it…
professional observation.”
Mira stared at him.
“Professional observation? That’s your excuse?”
“Yes. Professional,” he replied, his voice low, teasing.
“And you? You seem to have a talent for attracting… chaos.
Should I report you?”
She couldn’t help it. A laugh slipped out, despite herself.
Light, quick, contagious.
“Oh, so now I’m chaos incarnate?”
“Yes,” he said, dead serious.
“And dangerously unpredictable.”
Mira’s heart skipped.
She tried to sound stern: “Be careful, Mr.
Vale. One more sarcastic comment and I might start believing you’re enjoying this.”
He leaned a fraction closer, close enough that she could see the faint shadow of regret or was it longing? in his eyes.
“Enjoying what? Watching you survive puddles and coffee storms?”
“Exactly,” she said, raising her chin.
They froze.
A sudden, ridiculous lightning bolt of electricity or maybe just tension passed between them.
Both realized neither wanted to move first.
Then… a splash.
Mira’s umbrella flipped, her coffee sloshed, and she shrieked as she slipped again.
This time, Aarav caught her completely, arms tight around her.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he said, mock exasperated.
“I think the universe is trying to kill you. Again.”
Mira’s face burned red.
She could feel the heat, the teasing, the dangerous pull between them.
And, for the first time, she didn’t want to pull away.
“Maybe,” she said softly, “I don’t mind.”
Aarav’s jaw tightened.
A flicker of something unreadable passed over his face. He held her there a moment longer, letting her words sink in.
Then, finally, he released her just enough to step back, mask back in place, calm restored.
“Watch yourself,” he murmured.
“Or the universe might actually succeed next time.”
Mira rolled her eyes, shaking her soaked hair out of her face.
But the corners of her lips twitched.
Dangerous, impossible, maddening Aarav Vale.
Somehow… he was making her laugh.
And in the middle of a rainy morning, chasing coffee, puddles, and fate, Mira realized something terrifyingly simple:
She was already falling.
1️⃣ Do you think Mira is starting to realize her connection with Aarav?
2️⃣ Did you enjoy the playful banter and tension in this chapter?
3️⃣ How do you feel about Aarav cold yet teasing, mysterious yet protective?
