The roads were just as empty as before, the same dim streetlights casting uneven pools of light, the same stray dogs barking as the car passed by. But this time, Kian wasn’t rushing. His driving had slowed, steadier now, as if the urgency from earlier had finally settled.
Ishmal leaned back against the seat, her dupatta wrapped properly around her shoulders. The redness along her collarbone had softened, no longer as angry as before, and her breathing had evened out after the medication.
Lost in a world of chai spills and melodramatic samosas, I'm just a writer trying to make you laugh and feel all the feels. 🍵 Join me on this hilarious rollercoaster ride of words - where even the plot twists are doing the bhangra! 💃📖
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