Whisper of the mansoon

WHISPER OF THE MANSOON -01

Title: Whispers of the Monsoon

It was the first rain of the season, the kind where the earth sighs, soaking in the droplets after months of dryness. Piya stood on the balcony of her little house, her fingers tracing patterns on the wet railing. Her long hair clung to her face as the mist from the rain caressed her skin. She loved the rain—it felt like a secret conversation only her heart could understand.

And then, there he was—Aarav. The boy who lived two streets away but always seemed far too close to her thoughts. He was walking past, drenched yet smiling, like the rain belonged to him. Piya’s heart skipped a beat, a rhythm only he could create. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pretending not to notice him. But of course, Aarav noticed her. He always did.

“Enjoying the rain alone again, Piya?” Aarav called out, his voice teasing but soft.

Piya turned her head slightly, her lips curved in a small smile. “Some things are better enjoyed alone, Aarav.”

“Hmm,” he smirked, walking closer, his dark eyes locked on hers. “What if I said rain looks better when shared?”

She laughed lightly, rolling her eyes. “Said by someone who thinks he owns the monsoon?”

“I don’t own the monsoon,” he said, his voice suddenly quieter. “But I do wish to own a moment of it… with you.”

Her cheeks flushed pink, the rain suddenly not the only thing warming her. Aarav climbed the stairs to her balcony, unbothered by how drenched he already was. He stopped an arm’s length away, their breaths mingling in the cool mist.

“You’re crazy, Aarav. You’ll get sick,” she said, though her heart pounded louder than her words.

“If it means standing here with you, I’ll take my chances.” His voice held a gentleness that made her look up, really look at him.

A moment of silence stretched between them, only the patter of rain filling the air. Aarav reached out, brushing his thumb over her damp cheek. “You’re beautiful, Piya.”

Piya’s heart did somersaults, and she couldn’t stop the smile that broke free. “Is this how you charm all the girls, Aarav?”

“No,” he murmured, his gaze soft and serious. “Only the one who makes the rain feel jealous.”

She laughed, the sound light and free, echoing between them like music. In that little balcony, surrounded by rain, it didn’t matter who they were, where they were going. All that mattered was the unspoken promise in the way Aarav looked at her—like she was his world, and he was ready to drown in it.

And as the rain fell harder, he pulled her close, their foreheads touching, sharing the warmth of a thousand unspoken words.

“Will you share the next rain with me, too?” Aarav whispered.

Piya smiled, her voice soft as she replied, “Always.”

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