Hey lovelies! 💕

This was the very first touch, the very first spark between Rudra and Ishita - a moment where even time itself paused. 🌸

If you felt the magic, the goosebumps, or even just smiled while reading... do let me know! Your comments, likes, and shares mean the world to me and motivate me to keep weaving their story with more love and intensity. 🥺💖

Tell me - did this moment give you filmy chills? 👀🔥

Stay tuned, because their journey is only just beginning...

ISHITA SHARMA

"Oh no no no... flowers!"

I gasp, smacking my forehead gently with my palm.

The garland I had picked out-white jasmine and red roses, strung so delicately-is still lying in the bag with Muskan... inside the temple.

"Ek kaam bhi theek se nahi kar sakti, Ishita..."

I mumble under my breath, picking up the hem of my anarkali and rushing down the temple stairs.

The night air hits my face-cool, fragrant, alive with the scent of ghee lamps and street vendors shouting about prasad and rudraksha malas. People mill around, walking barefoot, some with tridents painted on their foreheads, others with flowers in hand.

I zigzag through the crowd, skipping two steps at a time, eyes searching frantically for the vendor I saw earlier.

"Bhaiya! Ek phoolon ka haar dena jaldi! Jaldi please!"

I yell, out of breath, pointing at the fresh jasmine strings on his stall.

But just as I get the flowers in hand and turn back toward the stairs-

My foot lands weirdly on the second marble step.

It's slippery.

Soapy.

"Sh-" I gasp, ankle twisting, balance snapping.

Time slows down.

The stairs blur. My heart leaps to my throat. My fingers clutch air.

I'm falling.

Not a cute little trip-the full kind. The brutal, face-down, sharp-marble kind.

I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the crash-

But it doesn't come.

I don't hit the floor.

I don't feel pain.

Instead...

There are arms.

Hard. Unyielding.

A grip tight around my waist.

A pull that stops time.

My breath halts in my throat.

I slowly open my eyes.

RUDRA SINGH RATHORE

Location: Outside Shiv Mandir, 15 feet from his car

"Cancel the meeting. Push it to tomorrow morning, 7 a.m. sharp. I'll handle it personally."

I instruct over the phone, pacing near the temple stairs.

The noise is suffocating-bells, mantras, the buzz of festival chaos.

I didn't want to get out of the car. But I had zero network inside. Typical.

"And tell Sinha I want the revised terms by-"

I stop mid-sentence.

Because out of nowhere-a girl stumbles into my path.

Fast. Falling. Out of control.

For a split second, I freeze.

Just a body in white and green anarkali-spinning, slipping-about to break her head open.

Instinct takes over.

I drop the phone. My arm shoots out. I catch her.

Tight. One arm across her waist, the other steadying her back.

She weighs nothing. Her hair spills forward, perfume like sandalwood and roses.

She gasps softly-eyes closed, fingers trembling. Her face is hidden because of her long curly hair

I blink.

What the hell just happened?

And why is the world so quiet for a second?

They still haven't seen each other's faces. Still strangers. But his arms are around her. Her breath is caught. Time has shifted. Just not fully yet.]

Shivratri day Fate decides this is the moment.

Their first touch. Their first look. Their first breath in each other's

I feel it before I even open my eyes.

Warmth. Strength. Stillness.

Arms wrapped around me - secure, firm, like marble molded into the shape of safety.

I slowly lift my lashes.

And then...

I see him.

And my entire world - past, present, and every unknown future - stuns itself into stillness.

He's not real.

He can't be.

Ocean blue eyes. Deep, still, sharp - like they've seen wars and built empires.

A jawline that looks carved out of granite.

Tall - no, towering - with broad shoulders draped in a crisp black shirt, the sleeves rolled up perfectly on his veiny forearms.

Hair styled with brutal perfection.

And that face... calm, expressionless, but somehow holding a storm underneath.

He's my every fictional character come alive.

Shiv-like. Fierce. Silent. Divine. Untouchable.

And yet, he's holding me like I belong here.

We just stare.

No words. No blink. No breath.

As if something eternal just opened up between us.

And in that suspended moment, flowers begin to fall.

Literally.

From above, as devotees pass by - hands full of rose petals, marigold, and belpatra - they begin to shower it all toward the mandir's main sanctum.

But the wind chooses us.

Petals rain over our heads, shoulders, hair.

Red, yellow, white - falling like soft blessings.

I don't move.

Neither does he.

We stand frozen, wrapped in silence, wrapped in petals.

Like Shiv and Parvati in their own still universe.

RUDRA SINGH RATHORE

I've never believed in fate.

Never believed in stories.

Never believed in gods.

But I believe in this moment

Because of air her hair flew and now her face is clear and inches from me and

when she opened her eyes -

My world stopped.

Brown eyes. Wide, glassy, sunlit.

Full lips parted in breathless surprise.

Long lashes curled up, cheeks flushed, a bindi like a perfect red dot anchoring her whole face.

She's real. And unreal.

Made of earth and fire.

I've seen beauty. I've owned power. I've built empires.

But I have never... felt like this.

My arms are around her and I can't move.

She's so close I can hear her heart. It's frantic. Wild.

Just like mine.

And in the middle of this chaos - the mantras, the crowds, the distant drums - it all fades.

Because we're staring at each other like there's nothing else.

And then... the petals.

They fall from above, as if the sky chose this moment.

They land in her hair. On her shoulder. On my shirt.

Somewhere, damru beats echo in the temple... and my heart answers.

I don't believe in love.

I don't believe in fate.

I don't believe in gods.

But I believe in her.

From this second, this breath, this look -

I'm no longer untouched.

I don't even know her name.

But I know one thing:

I'm in love.

At first sight.

Without reason. Without defense.

And still...

Neither of us speaks.

Neither of us moves.

Because something sacred is happening.

Something that cannot be broken by words.

They're still staring. Still silent. Still strangers. But fate just touched both their hearts for the very first time.]