Chapter 3 : The unspoken Words

Whisper In The rain

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The days blurred into weeks, and the small, cozy café became their shared space—a sanctuary where they could be themselves without the world outside rushing them. Each meeting felt like another piece of a puzzle, fitting together in ways neither Ayan nor Misha could quite explain.

It was a Friday afternoon, and the café was quieter than usual. Misha arrived later than usual, and Ayan was already seated by the window, his notebook open in front of him. He hadn’t been writing much lately—he was just sitting, staring out at the rain, lost in thought.

Misha entered, shaking off her umbrella as usual, her blue jacket now speckled with droplets of water. When she saw Ayan, she smiled brightly and made her way to the table, her eyes never leaving his. There was something different in the air today, something unspoken but present between them.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Misha said as she sat down, her voice a little softer than usual. She noticed the quiet look in Ayan’s eyes, the way he wasn’t immediately teasing or smiling.

Ayan closed his notebook slowly, his fingers lingering on the edges. “It’s okay,” he replied, his voice calm but thoughtful. “I was just… thinking.”

Misha raised an eyebrow, leaning forward a little. “Thinking about what?”

Ayan hesitated, unsure whether he was ready to share the thoughts swirling in his mind. There was a part of him that had always kept his feelings bottled up—he was used to writing them in his journal, not speaking them out loud. But there was something about Misha, something about her understanding smile, that made him want to open up.

“About us,” Ayan said finally, his voice low. “About how we’ve met, how we’ve connected. It’s... unexpected. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who...” He trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.

Misha’s heart skipped a beat. She had sensed the change in their connection over the past few weeks—the subtle shift in the way their conversations had deepened, the way their silences had become comfortable rather than awkward. But hearing Ayan say it out loud made everything feel more real, more vulnerable.

“Ayan,” Misha said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “I feel the same way. This... whatever this is between us, it feels like something I didn’t expect, but I’m glad it happened.”

Ayan looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty. But all he found was warmth, honesty, and something more—something that felt like a quiet promise. It was as if they both knew something they hadn’t yet said aloud, but neither was ready to name it just yet.

The rain outside had slowed, but the air was thick with unspoken words. For a moment, neither of them spoke. It wasn’t awkward—no, it was peaceful, like two souls who had found each other in the middle of a storm.

Finally, Misha broke the silence with a soft smile. “You know, I think this might be the beginning of a really good story.”

Ayan nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I think it might be.”

And in that moment, they both knew that their story had just begun.

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