The Mumbai night was a blanket of humid air and distant traffic sounds, a fragile illusion of peace draped over the city’s restless heart. Below, the streets pulsed with life—horns blaring, street vendors shouting, the distant murmur of trains cutting through the dark. But on the rooftop of Akansha’s apartment building, the noise died long before it reached them. Up here, the city felt like another world, unreachable, irrelevant.
Noah leaned against the parapet, eyes tracing the glittering sprawl of lights that stretched toward the sea. Each one shimmered like a dying star, fragile and beautiful. He’d been staring so long that the cityscape had begun to blur, becoming a single pulse of gold.
Behind him, Akansha sat on a weathered bench, her knees drawn close, her arms wrapped around hers
