Helo people (sunshiness)

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AUTHOR POV

Iraya yanked the accelerator, pushing the bike to its absolute limit, the engine roaring like the storm inside her. Wind slapped her face, but her mind was lost—no, haunted—by the storm of memories crashing through her like relentless waves.

He used to hug her for no reason at all. Randomly, like he needed the feel of her close just to breathe properly.

He used to play with her hair, twirl it around his fingers like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

He used to kiss her on the cheek—gently, affectionately—as if even touching her needed a kind of reverence.

She remembered how he blushed like a teenage boy after their first kiss. How he acted like it was the most sacred, most fragile moment he had ever experienced, like he had just stolen something too pure for someone like him. She had seen him trail behind her in the park for hours that day, holding her bag awkwardly, trying to hide his shyness behind small smiles—all just because she had said, "I want to kiss you again."

How could that be fake?

How could he be fake?

How could the love he showed her be just a phase? How could his promises mean nothing?

She was still holding onto those promises, still single to this day, not because she couldn't move on, but because she didn't want to.

She was still waiting—hoping—that one day he would come back.

Not for her alone, but for them. For their love.

He knew she was clumsy. That's why he always held her hand when they walked.

He remembered she loved chocolates, so he brought them every single time they met—just because she said once she adored guys who did that kind of stuff.

But despite knowing everything about her, despite doing everything to make her fall for him... he left.

And all he said before disappearing?

"You deserve better."

But maybe she didn't want better. Maybe better wasn't what she needed.

Maybe all she ever needed was him.

In his attempt to protect her future, he shattered their past. And possibly, ruined their present too.

Fresh memories flooded her brain, ones that burned. Her vision blurred, not from the speed, but from tears she stubbornly refused to shed.

She never cried in front of him. But that didn't mean she hadn't cried for him. Every. Single. Night.

Talking to his photo like a fool. Telling it how much she missed him.

How much it still hurt.

He never came back.

Loving him was a mistake.

But it might've been the most beautiful mistake she ever made.

Or maybe not.

IRAYA'S POV

They say time heals.

But no one tells you what to do when the pain lingers like a ghost in your chest.

Thinking about him isn't supposed to hurt anymore. I should be over him.

But my heart doesn't agree.

It's not that I hate him.

I love him.

Maybe more than I should.

But is it too much to ask for one reason why he left me?

Just one.

I still remember the exact moment I saw that tattoo on his arm—partially hidden under his rolled-up sleeve. We were just kids, standing among men who looked like they didn't belong in our story.

Curiosity made me move towards him. And he... stopped talking.

He told them to leave like they were nothing. Like I was the only one that mattered.

I stared at the inky design peeking out from his arm.

"It's pretty," I had whispered, genuinely fascinated.

He smiled, pushed my hair behind my ear like he always did when he got all soft and stupid around me, and said,

"Just like you."

I remember looking at him and asking—without thinking—

"You're mine, right?"

Fear had already started crawling in my mind back then. The fear that one day, he'd walk away.

"I'm only yours," he had said, voice low and firm. "No one can own Riccardo Abato except you."

There was a flicker in his eyes. A shadow. Love, maybe. Or fear. Or both.

He used to say I deserved someone better. Someone as "good" as me.

But why didn't he ever ask what I wanted?

I wanted him.

Still want him.

He left like he was doing me a favor.

He wasn't.

I hate that I met him at the wrong time. But when I saw him today—I felt peace. Like maybe something in me stopped aching. Or maybe that ache just turned into something else.

Hope.

I want my answers.

I'll do whatever it takes to get them.

Will he give them?

I don't know.

But a part of me still hopes he'll say it was all a sick joke.

Yeah, I'm delusional like that.

We were just about to reach Chinmay's place when I noticed Kashi blabbering something again. I tuned back in and realized—she was talking about him. Her crush. My brother.

Kashi. My best friend since we were running around in diapers.

Of course she'd fall for him.

I should've seen it coming.

She's a damn headache but my better half too.

Except when she randomly rants about how amazing my brother is—when she knows I hate it.

"My brother is talented," I mumbled.

Wait.

No.

"He isn't talented."

Yup. He.is.not.talented.

"You know, he must be waiting for us," she murmured into my helmet, her arms snug around my waist.

"Bitch, I'm straight," I snapped. She pouted, then winked at me through the mirror.

She's crazy. She either loves me or my brother. Maybe both.

If you have a female best friend and no one's ever accused you of being a lesbian, then are you really best friends? Nah.

She kept touching me and murmuring crap, almost making me lose it. But I had to keep calm at least until we reached my brother's place.

Or we'd end up in the hospital. Again.

And this wouldn't be the first time.

Every time I bring up our bike accidents, she just says:

"I trust you."

Yeah, trust my foot.

She says she trusts me and still rides with me even though I drive like I have a death wish.

"I want to marry my crush too!" she screamed suddenly, her voice slapping my eardrums as she clung to me tighter.

"That's why I'm driving faster," I muttered.

"You should be happy for your best friend's happiness, idiot!"

Her voice pierced my skull. I almost swerved out of pure rage.

Finally, we reached Chinmay's house. Still fighting over who's better—Chinmay or Riccardo.

Obviously, Riccardo won.

Even if we were broken up.

I should act mature.

But I'm only twenty.

A college kid who still misses school fights over samosas and soda spills.

We barged inside like always—no doorbell. That's not us. The front gate was open, and the inner door needed a code. Which, obviously, I knew.

She didn't.

Never asked either.

Respecting "sibling privacy," she said.

But I had my doubts.

And then—boom.

They were kissing.

"FUCK YOU, CHINMAY!"

We both screamed in perfect sync.

They froze like two criminals caught red-handed.

"I think we interrupted something," I whispered.

"Let's give them privacy," Kashi added like an idiot.

"For fuck's sake, shut up!" Riccardo barked.

"Lower your voice. We can still hear you if you whisper, genius," I snapped.

He clenched his jaw.

So I rolled my eyes again.

And again.

And again.

"Don't roll them," he growled.

So I rolled them harder.

"You two were kissing?" Kashi asked, eyes bouncing between Chinmay and Riccardo.

"I'm straight!" Riccardo growled again, annoyed.

"You aren't," I muttered.

"How do you know?" Chinmay asked, genuinely confused.

Kashi's brain went off like a firecracker.

"If he's gay, then you're also gay!" she screamed, then smacked Chinmay and stormed off in tears.

"For god's sake, I'm not gay!" Riccardo shouted.

I turned and glared.

He immediately looked away.

"You're taking orders from her now?" Chinmay said, shocked.

"You do the same," Riccardo replied, glaring.

I just sat on the couch, chewing my gum, watching the chaos I helped unleash.

"We were just waiting for you both," Chinmay started. "Then I remembered a girl we met earlier and we were checking her details and—"

"She's single," I said flatly.

Kashi's shoe met Chinmay's face.

"You fucked up, bro," Riccardo whispered.

Chinmay panicked.

"Kashi, let's go to the garden. I'll explain everything," he said, dragging her out.

That left me and him.

Riccardo.

Just us.

"Why now?" I asked, my voice sharp.

"I'm sorr—" he started.

"You always say that."

"Trust me, Ira—"

"I don't."

"I lov—"

"I don't."

"For god's sake, listen to me!" he exploded.

"For fuck's sake, stop preaching!"

"Do you even know how much I searched for you? How I cried? How I begged—"

"Did you ever care?"

"Did you ever think about what would happen to me when you vanished?"

He stood there, silent.

Not because he didn't have answers.

Because he knew I was right.

He knew I hacked his company's system looking for him.

He knew I tore my life apart trying to trace him.

He knew I never stopped loving him.

"I regretted everything, Raya. But give me a chance. One last chance to answer everything. To make you mine again."

I stared into his eyes.

Same eyes as two years ago.

But this time, something else was there.

Possession.

Obsession.

"I regret it too," I said quietly. "Getting with you. Kissing you. Loving you."

His face shattered.

"Did you ever regret loving me?" he asked, rising to leave.

"I'm not answerable to you, Mr. Abato."

"Answer my questions before you dare to ask yours."

"I'll give you one last chance—to explain yourself.

But not to win me back."

AUTHOR POV

Silence engulfed the room like a heavy fog, thick and unrelenting, as soon as Iraya's words left her lips. For a moment, everything stopped — even the air. And Riccardo... he looked shattered. Like all hope had been torn from his chest, piece by piece. His face fell, his shoulders slumped, and Iraya could feel her heart twist with guilt.

But then—he moved.

Without a word, Riccardo stood up. Slowly. Deliberately. His gaze locked on hers as he took measured steps toward her, almost like a predator stalking prey, but this was different. His eyes held something deeper — not hunger, not lust — but raw, unresolved love. And Iraya hated that it made her weak.

Her breath stilled.

She could already feel it — the heat, the tension, the way her body betrayed her just by reacting to his presence. And he could see it too. Of course he could. He always could.

"Stay away, Abato—" she blurted, trying to sound stern, but her voice cracked slightly, betraying her hesitation. Her body responded involuntarily, electricity running down her spine.

Riccardo didn't stop. He crouched down before her, hands on either side of her, his proximity sending a chill across her skin.

"How can I stay away from someone who's already mine?" he whispered, his voice low and dangerous, like a secret meant only for her.

Iraya's breath hitched.

She wanted to push him away, to scream, to remind him of the heartbreak he'd caused. But her body wasn't listening. Neither was her heart. She felt goosebumps rise, felt her muscles weaken as he hovered over her, their bodies nearly touching.

"We broke up, Riccardo. Stay away," she said again, weaker now, leaning back into the couch, a desperate attempt to create distance. But even she knew, it was pointless.

Riccardo leaned in further, letting his hands slide down to her waist, and then — in one smooth movement — he pulled her slightly up from the couch, closer to him. His arms wrapped around her with such practiced ease it felt like they never stopped holding her.

"Our breakup," he whispered against her ear, "was never official."

His voice — thick with emotions and memories — made her shiver. It reminded her of the nights she used to fall asleep on his chest, of the way he used to say her name like it was something sacred.

"And we weren't official either, Abato," Iraya shot back, still caught in his arms but glaring at him fiercely, eyes burning with challenge.

Riccardo looked at her with an unreadable expression — half amused, half serious — before lifting his hand and tucking her loose strands behind her ear, just like he used to. His fingers lingered. And then he kissed her forehead. Gentle. Familiar. Intimate.

The kind of kiss that said: I know you're angry, but I also know you're mine.

"I'll never be yours," Iraya spat, venom dripping from her voice.

Riccardo smiled slowly, eyes darkening. "Oh, trust me, Raya. You're mine. You've always been mine. You'll always be mine."

His voice dropped as he leaned closer, lips hovering just over hers. The tension snapped taut — one wrong move and they'd be kissing. One inch. One breath.

"Why are you so eager to kiss me?" Riccardo teased, smirking slightly, trying to distract her from the storm clearly building in her mind.

"Huh?! Says the one who was kissing my brother!" Iraya snapped back, throwing his words right back at him with fire in her voice.

Riccardo blinked. Then his jaw dropped. "FOR GOD'S SAKE, I'M STRAIGHT, RAYA!"

"Oh really? Then prove your so-called straightness," she mocked.

"I have!" he exclaimed, desperate now. "You remember the time I kissed you?"

"Every gay guy says the same," she said flatly. "Some of them even date girls to hide it."

Riccardo looked like he had been personally stabbed.

"Are you seriously saying this about me?"

"Yup. I am. I'm one of the victims, Abato. Another girl who fell for a gay guy."

His mouth hung open.

"Raya, for God's sake — I. AM. NOT. GAY."

"I don't believe you," she shot back, crossing her arms.

"Whyyyyyyyyy," Riccardo whined like a child, his voice cracking with frustration. "Why would you say that?"

"Kon bolega ye kutta mafia hai?" she mumbled under her breath in Hindi, knowing full well he couldn't understand her.

("Who would've thought this dog is a mafia?")

Riccardo was still blinking at her in disbelief.

"You kissed my brother. Right here. On this couch," she said, her voice rising.

"You saw it, but you misunderstood it, Raya," he said calmly, which almost scared her more than if he had shouted.

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, so now the anger issues are gone too?"

He paused, hesitating, before admitting, "I still have those. But... with you? They vanish. Like they know you'd beat my ass with your slippers."

The last part was mumbled under his breath. He thought she didn't hear it.

She did.

She grinned.

"So... can we talk about that incident now?" she asked.

He nodded silently, sitting beside her again. As his hand moved away, she missed the warmth.

"Why did you disappear out of nowhere?" she asked, knowing what he would say.

"You deserved bett—AHHH!"

Her shoe hit his face before he could even finish the sentence.

She stood, picked up another shoe, and bent down in front of him — his mind instantly diving into dangerous waters.

"Raya, I hope you respect my privacy," he stuttered. "You know I'm a shy kind of person..."

She ignored him and slipped a wooden rod from beneath the couch.

His eyes bulged. "Raya, baby—"

"That I deserve better, right?" she asked sweetly, lifting the rod.

Then she chased him.

Around the house.

Swinging at his legs with fury and satisfaction, screaming everything she couldn't say for two years.

"You. Fucking. DISAPPEARED!"

Riccardo ran like his life depended on it — because it did.

He ended up in the kitchen, trapped between her and the counter.

"Okay okay okay! I AGREE I disappeared! But now you're going to kill me!"

"FUCK THIS BABY OF YOURS!" she shouted, launching her shoe straight at his chest.

"For that kind of fucking, we should go to the bedroom," Riccardo muttered under his breath.

She took a step forward. He stepped back.

He hit the kitchen counter.

"No more running, baby boy," she whispered with a wicked grin.

"I missed you," she said softly, dragging her finger from his face to his jaw.

"I missed your body... your lips... your everything."

She peeled off his shirt, trailed her fingers down his chest. He leaned back slightly, eyes fluttering closed.

She stepped forward until their bodies touched. Her hand slowly moved down — until she cupped him *there*.

Riccardo groaned.

Then after a while he opened his eyes feeling something.

"THE HELL RAYA?!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

The door burst open.

Chinmay and Kashi stood in the doorway.

And froze.

Seconds later, Kashi fell to the floor howling with laughter. Chinmay's jaw dropped.

Iraya was laughing on the kitchen table, flipping Riccardo the finger and sticking out her tongue.

Riccardo looked like a war victim — shirtless, wet, covered in egg yolk, egg shells sticking to his hair.

"Literally, Raya — instead of this you could've just hit me," he said, pointing at her rod.

"Well, it's never too late, baby," she grinned, raising it again.

Before she could swing, Riccardo lifted her from the table and set her down gently.

"You think pulling me down will scare me?" she challenged.

He fell to his knees in front of her, grabbing her feet like a worshipper.

"I'm really sorry! I swear, Raya! Please no more eggs or rods. I'll do anything you say, my queen!"

Chinmay looked around, baffled whispered . "Am I missing something?!"

"You'll answer my questions truthfully and quietly," Iraya said firmly.

"I'll answer everything, baby. I promise. Just no more hitting," Riccardo begged, forehead on her feet.

He nodded like a scared puppy.

Chinmay stepped forward. "Can someone tell me what the hell I'm missing?"

Riccardo and Iraya locked wide eyes.

Then ran.

Hand in hand.

But not before Riccardo and Iraya splashed eggs and water all over Chinmay, who stood frozen in horror while Kashi burst into another laughing fit.

"YOU BOTH ARE DEAD! I WON'T LEAVE YOU!" Chinmay shouted after them.

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That's it for today !!!

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