Advik
I’m running.
I don’t know where exactly—justwhoI’m running after.
She disappeared the moment she stepped out of the Serenity Room, and I stood there like an idiot. Frozen. Like my brain had to reboot just to accept she was real.
But once it clicked?
I bolted.
Straight through the lobby.
Scanned the main exit. Nothing.
“Fuck.”
I ran again, heart pounding like I was in a goddamn shootout. Not because I was scared—because if she vanished again, I wouldn’t survive it.
And I have one question. Just one.
Back through the halls. Around the side lot. The entrance I’d originally come through.
And there—
Helmet in hand, strides like liquid steel—there she was.
Aadya.
Greesha?
Whatever name she wanted to wear like armor now.
She was heading toward the parking row. And then I saw it.
A bike.
A black-and-red beast wedged between two sedans like it didn’t give a shit about personal space.
??????
“Oh my god, Advik, I can’t,” she giggled, clutching my arm as I pointed at my brand-new motorcycle.
“I don’t fucking trust your skills!”
“I promise you won’t fall, baby. I won’t let you,” I murmured into her neck, dropping a kiss on her scrunched nose.
“Don’t you dare go over 60 km/h.”
She climbed on anyway, tentative and adorable. I followed, laughing, the memory of her smile warming my chest.
“You ready?” I asked, throwing a glance back at her.
“Maybe... Vik, maybe I should ride it?” she said, half-joking.
I laughed. Her? Riding with my 80 kg ass on the back? “Baby, your scooty skills don’t count here.”
She giggled. “Yeah... I guess.”
