୨ৎ 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ୨ৎ

The moment the flight landed in Mumbai, people practically transformed into wild animals escaping captivity.

Seat belts hadn't even fully opened and everyone was already standing with zero patience.

Including me.

Because after today's emotionally exhausting journey, I just wanted to reach my hotel, call Tulsi dramatic names for abandoning me, and sleep for fourteen business days.

I quickly stood up and reached for my bag from the overhead compartment while people around me pushed impatiently.

And then—

the flight suddenly shook.

Turbulence.

A strong one.

"Please be seated—"

Too late.

Before I could properly balance myself, my foot slipped slightly and my entire body lost control.

And instead of grabbing my bag—

I fell.

Directly.

On him.

On Abhishek Sharma.

My brain stopped functioning instantly.

One second I was standing.

The next second, I was literally on top of this man.

My hands instinctively landed on his shoulders for support while his reflexively grabbed my waist to steady me before I completely collapsed.

But THAT wasn't even the worst part.

No.

Because apparently destiny hated me personally.

As I fell abruptly, our faces crashed closer—

and my lips accidentally landed on his.

For one horrifying second.

One tiny.
Brief.
Accidental.
Life-destroying second.

Everything froze.

The noise around us disappeared completely.

His hands were still around my waist.
My fingers were gripping his shoulders tightly.
And our eyes locked immediately after.

God.

His eyes up close were unfairly pretty.

Meanwhile, I could physically feel my soul leaving my body from embarrassment.

WHAT WAS THIS?

BOLLYWOOD?

WHO WRITES THESE THINGS?

My face instantly burned red as I quickly pulled away and stood up so fast I almost lost balance again.

"I am SO sorry," I blurted out immediately. "Oh my god—I didn't mean to—I slipped—the turbulence—"

I wanted the airplane door to open and swallow me whole.

But surprisingly—

he looked calmer than me.

Much calmer.

"It's okay," he said softly. "It wasn't planned."

Planned?!

As if I spent my free time falling onto random men inside flights.

Still, the fact that he wasn't angry somehow helped my embarrassment slightly.

He even gave me a small reassuring smile like he understood it was genuinely accidental.

Which somehow made it worse.

Because now I felt awkward AND guilty.

Amazing.

Absolutely amazing.

For the remaining few minutes, I avoided looking directly at him while silently praying for death.

Finally, people started moving out properly.

I grabbed my bag with whatever dignity I had left and quickly stepped outside the flight.

The cool Mumbai airport air hit my face instantly.

Freedom.

Escape.

New beginning.

I turned slightly, trying to spot him again—

but this time, airport staff guided him toward a completely different exit away from the normal passengers.

Special exit.

Special treatment.

Security around him too.

Huh.

Guess this Abhishek Sharma really was some important person after all.

As I turned to leave, I quickly pulled out my tiny pocket mirror from my bag out of pure instinct.

And the moment I looked at myself—

"Oh my god."

My cheeks were STILL red.

Like properly red.

Not "cute little blush" red.

Humiliatingly obvious red.

I stared at my reflection in disbelief while walking through the airport.

Why was I blushing THIS much?

It was an accident.

A completely unplanned accident.

People accidentally bump into each other all the time.

Normal people move on.

Meanwhile, here I was looking like the female lead of some overdramatic romance movie after accidentally kissing a stranger inside an AirAsia flight.

Pathetic.

I pressed my cold fingers against my cheeks hoping the heat would disappear somehow.

It didn't.

And the worst part?

My brain kept replaying the scene repeatedly.

His hands around my waist.
His dark eyes looking directly into mine.
The way he stayed calm while I nearly died from embarrassment.

"No," I whispered to myself immediately. "We are NOT thinking about this."

A woman passing beside me gave me a slightly concerned look.

Great.

Now I looked mentally unstable too.

I quickly fixed my hair, reapplied my lip gloss for emotional support, and shoved the mirror back into my bag dramatically.

This was Mumbai.

A new city.

A new beginning.

And I absolutely refused to spend it remembering a stranger with pretty eyes and annoyingly soft lips.

But thank god—

through the crowd, luggage, noise, and endless airport chaos...

I finally spotted Tulsi standing outside waiting for me.

And in her hand?

Coconut water.

At that moment, she looked less like my best friend and more like a divine blessing sent by the universe.

The second she saw me, her expression changed instantly.

"Oh MY GOD, HITANSHI!"

Before I could even speak, she marched toward me dramatically.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I WENT THROUGH?"

And there it was.

The scolding.

Honestly, Tulsi was basically my second mother at this point. Maybe because she was six months older than me and treated those six months like seniority in the military.

"I called you twenty times!"

"I know—"

"You disappeared!"

"I know!"

"You missed an ENTIRE flight!"

"I KNOW!"

People nearby actually turned to look at us.

Meanwhile, Tulsi continued aggressively handing me coconut water like an angry caretaker.

"Drink this first. Your face looks stressed."

I obediently took the coconut water because arguing while dehydrated was dangerous.

"You literally left me alone," I muttered while drinking.

"THEY WERE CLOSING THE GATE!" she defended herself immediately. "The staff practically pushed me inside."

"Traitor."

"Survivor."

I rolled my eyes while she pulled my suitcase beside hers and started walking with me toward the exit.

Then suddenly her expression softened slightly.

"But seriously... are you okay now?"

That tiny concern in her voice immediately made me smile a little.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I managed somehow."

And then obviously—

the interrogation started.

"What happened after I left?"
"How did you get another ticket?"
"Did you cry?"
"Did airport police arrest you?"
"Did you survive alone?"

I stared at her flatly.

"Why would airport police arrest me?"

"You look capable of causing accidental chaos."

Fair enough.

As we walked outside the airport, I slowly told her everything:
the panic,
the airport manager,
the extra ticket charges,
the fighting couple inside the flight,
the child kicking my seat,
and getting shifted to first class.

Tulsi gasped dramatically at that part.

"FIRST CLASS?"

"Yes."

"You lucky witch."

"I suffered enough to earn it."

She nodded seriously.

"Valid."

But through the entire story...

I carefully skipped one detail.

Him.

Abhishek Sharma.

The conversation.
The accidental kiss.
The strange eye contact.

Everything.

And honestly?

I didn't even know why.

Maybe because saying it aloud would make it feel real.

Or maybe because some part of me strangely wanted to keep that moment to myself.

By the time we reached the hotel, my body was physically present but my soul had already left for permanent vacation.

I just wanted a shower, food, and unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, Tulsi had somehow unlocked unlimited energy mode.

The moment we entered our room, she threw herself dramatically on the bed and immediately started talking.

"Oh my GOD, Hitu, do you realize we're actually going to watch Sunrisers Hyderabad vs Mumbai Indians LIVE?"

"Mhm," I hummed tiredly while opening my suitcase.

"And imagine if Rohit Sharma hits sixes continuously."

"Mhm."

"And what if we get close seats?"

"Mhm."

"And OH MY GOD I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE ABHISHEK SHARMA PLAY."

My hands froze.

Wait.

What?

"...Which Sharma?"

Tulsi looked at me like I had asked the dumbest question alive.

"ABHISHEK SHARMA?"

The name hit me instantly.

My brain suddenly replayed:
dark eyes.
messy black hair.
pink lips.
"Do you watch cricket?"

No.

No no no.

Impossible.

Meanwhile, Tulsi casually opened the mini fridge dramatically before taking out two cans proudly.

"And LOOK!" she grinned excitedly. "I bought limited edition Thums Up cans!"

She tossed one toward me.

I caught it automatically.

And there it was.

Printed clearly on the can—

Abhishek Sharma.

My heartbeat stopped.

Tulsi looked way too excited while holding hers.

"I swear he's SO talented," she continued happily. "And he's actually really cute too."

Cute.

Right.

Because apparently destiny wanted to publicly humiliate me now.

Trying to sound normal, I slowly asked,

"...Show me his face once."

Tulsi gasped dramatically.

"ARE YOU FINALLY LEARNING CRICKET?"

"No. Just show me."

She immediately grabbed her phone, opened Google like the dedicated fangirl she was, and shoved the screen directly in front of my face.

And the moment I saw the picture—

I knew.

I was fucked up.

Because staring back at me from Tulsi's phone screen...

was the exact same man I accidentally kissed inside the flight.