Sahir's question catches Vihaan off guard.
"Dude, has your heart never fluttered for Gauri? Not even once?"
Vihaan's face remains stone-cold, but his mind betrays him.
He remembers the way Gauri's eyes had locked with his during their accidental eye lock, the way she stumbled into his arms, her breath trembling against his chest.
For a fleeting moment, his mask slips. His lips part as though admitting something—then, just as quickly, he shuts it down, hardening his expression.
Without another word, Vihaan excuses himself, leaving Sahir and Mihir exchanging knowing glances.
"We need to do something to bring them closer," Sahir mutters, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Mihir smirks. "Yeah. They're like two magnets—repelling instead of attracting. Let's flip the script."
---
Meanwhile, across the courtyard, Gauri grows impatient as Maira and Teju keep teasing her.
"Stop it, you two," she snaps, though her cheeks are flushed. "My relationship with Vihaan will never improve. He doesn't care about me. He only… hurts me."
With a sigh, she turns and walks away, leaving Maira and Teju behind. The twins exchange a concerned glance.
"We need to do something," Maira whispers.
Teju smirks, already hatching a plan. "Don't worry. I've got an idea."
---
The twins head toward the refreshment counter in the courtyard, where trays of thandai and milk glasses are neatly arranged for the guests. While the crowd is busy with colors and dancing, Maira quickly slips a pouch of bhang into two glasses, disguising it perfectly.
"Now, let's see what magic this Holi really brings," Teju whispers with a giggle.
---
Later, Vihaan, drawn by thirst, picks up one of the spiked glasses. A short while after, Gauri, flustered from the teasing, also grabs a glass from the counter. Neither of them suspects a thing.
At first, nothing seems amiss. But soon, the effects begin to seep in.
Vihaan's sharp gaze grows hazy, his composure slipping as he stumbles slightly. His lips curve into an uncharacteristic half-smile.
Gauri, meanwhile, bursts into carefree laughter, twirling her dupatta without a thought. Her inhibitions fade, her eyes sparkling more brightly than ever.
Drawn by the music in the courtyard, they drift toward the crowd. Slowly, almost instinctively, they begin to sway to the rhythm. Their movements grow looser, freer—like two souls untethered.
The family cheers them on, thinking it's part of the celebration, as the two of them begin circling one another in the dance, their laughter ringing out together for the first time.
The bhang has done its work—crumbling the walls they both fought so hard to keep up.
Meanwhile, back in the courtyard, Yug tries once more to approach Charvi. He straightens his kurta, rehearsing a greeting under his breath. But as he takes a step forward, he loses his balance, tripping slightly and crashing into a platter of powdered colors.
The platter flips, sending a cloud of bright gulal spilling all over Charvi's pristine outfit.
Charvi gasps, wide-eyed, staring at herself. Before she can even react, Yug bursts into laughter, clutching his stomach.
"Arre wah, Charvi ji—you look like a ghost!" he teases, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
Charvi narrows her eyes at him, then swiftly snatches another platter of color from the table. In one fluid motion, she dumps it over his head. The red powder coats him from hair to shoulders.
"Now I've killed you," she says with a triumphant smile, "and we're both ghosts!"
The nearby guests laugh at their antics, but before Yug can reply, a partygoer carrying buckets of water and colors bumps hard into him. Yug stumbles forward—straight into Charvi.
For a moment, time stills. Their bodies collide gently, his hands instinctively catching her shoulders to steady himself. Charvi's dupatta flutters between them, streaked with pink and yellow powders, as their eyes lock.
Both freeze, startled by the sudden closeness. Yug's teasing grin falters into something softer, while Charvi's playful glare wavers, her breath catching in her throat.
The noise of the Holi crowd surrounds them, but in that instant, it feels like they're standing in a world of their own.
Yug's heart hammered in his chest as he realized just how close he was to Charvi. His tongue tied itself in knots, and for once, the ever-playful Yug was left stuttering.
"I-I… uh… s-sorry, I didn't mean to—" he blurted out, quickly moving back, his hands falling away from her shoulders.
Charvi, equally flustered, stepped aside, brushing the stray gulal from her dupatta. But her gaze lingered on him, noticing the unusual redness on his cheeks. Tilting her head, she asked softly, almost innocently,
"Yug… why are your cheeks so red?"
Yug froze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. A nervous chuckle escaped him as he scrambled for an excuse.
"It's, uh… obviously the colors!" he stammered, forcing a grin. "Holi, you know… too many colors flying around!"
Charvi raised a skeptical brow, her lips twitching into a half-smile as though she didn't fully believe him. "Hmmm… colors, huh?"
Yug laughed again, louder this time, trying to mask his racing heartbeat. "Of course! What else could it be?"
For a moment, they just looked at each other—her eyes amused, his betraying the nervous energy of a boy caught in a secret.