Ira recounted her stay in her hometown with such warmth that Daniel found himself smiling more than he intended. She talked about how her mother practically force-fed her, worried she'd become "too thin to be desirable." Her father had jokingly threatened to set up an arranged marriage if she didn't bring someone home soon.
She was animated, expressive, her hands flailing with every silly memory, her face lighting up with each detail.
Daniel leaned back, half-listening and half-watching her.
He saw the way her eyes sparkled when she mentioned her family's quirks, how she wrinkled her nose when talking about being force-fed laddoos, how she paused for a beat longer before talking about quiet nights sitting on the roof alone.
He noticed all of it.
There was a kind of softness to her today, and he couldn't tell if it was her time away, or his heart finally catching up with something his mind had been denying. She looked different, maybe a bit fuller in her cheeks, but radiant all the same. And somehow, the fact that she tried to avoid him because she was worried about how she looked made her even more endearing.
Daniel chuckled.
"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
"You're just… I don't know, very expressive when you talk about your mom stuffing you full of food," he teased.
"Oh please," Ira rolled her eyes, but was giggling before she could finish her sentence. "You try refusing food from an Indian mom who thinks you're melting into thin air."
They both laughed.
Their hands brushed slightly when Ira reached across the table to grab her cup. It was nothing, but it was also something.
Daniel felt a flutter in his chest. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't intense. It was warm — comforting.
---
But later, as they sat in silence for a few moments, something stirred inside him.
He began questioning himself.
Was this really love?
Or just a distraction from the heartbreak?
Would he be using her — like Leah had used Chris — if he pursued anything now?
But… it didn't feel like a distraction. It felt right.
Natural. Not rushed. No secrets. No pressure.
Just her.
He thought about how she treated him — not like someone broken, but like someone still whole. Still worth listening to, still worthy of laughter, silliness, quiet moments. She never tried to "fix" him. She just… showed up.
Maybe that's what love really looked like.
---
"I'm free tomorrow," Ira said, her voice pulling him out of thought. "Library's closed. I might just sleep all day."
Daniel hesitated for a second, then asked, "Wanna go to the amusement park instead?"
Ira's eyes widened.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, why not?" he shrugged casually, though his heart beat a little faster. "Might be fun."
She broke into a wide grin. "I haven't been on a ride in years! Yes, let's go."
She was practically bouncing. The idea of rollercoasters and candy floss clearly excited her way more than she expected, and Daniel couldn't help but laugh.
---
That night, as he stood in front of his wardrobe, Daniel found himself holding up two shirts.
One dark navy, one white.
He looked at them, then looked at his reflection in the mirror.
A tiny smirk formed.
"Wow," he muttered. "What am I, sixteen?"
But he didn't put the shirts down.
Because this wasn't just an outing.
It wasn't just a friendly hangout.
It meant something to him.
And tomorrow — he would let it show.