The smell of overpriced popcorn and the hum of the theater air conditioning surrounded them. Sony was vibrating with excitement; she had been talking about Mufasa: The Lion King for three days. To her, it was just a movie. To Ashok, it was a reminder of a conversation they'd had in a different lifetime.
They sat in the back row, a bucket of extra-buttery popcorn between them. Before the trailers ended, they had already finished half of it.
"Boss," Sony whispered, leaning closer so she didn't have to shout. "You're unusually quiet today. Are you okay? Is the shift stress getting to you?"
Ashok looked at her profile in the dim light. "I'm fine, PA. Just thinking about the story. About how Mufasa has to lead, even when he's scared."
As the movie started, the grand visuals of the African savanna filled the screen. But when the themes of legacy, lost fathers, and the "Circle of Life" began to play out, Ashok felt a lump form in his throat. He wasn't thinking about lions; he was thinking about the "ghosts" of his past life. He was thinking about how he was "living again," just like the memories of a king.
When a particularly emotional scene played—a moment of sacrifice and the realization that those we love never truly leave us—Ashok's hand, resting on the armrest, began to tremble slightly.
He felt a soft, warm pressure cover his hand.
Sony wasn't looking at the screen anymore. She was looking at him. Without a word, she slid her fingers between his, locking their hands together. She squeezed tightly.
"It's just a movie, Boss," she whispered, her voice like silk. "Don't get so hurt. I'm right here."
Ashok turned his hand over and gripped hers back, his knuckles white. He felt "rarely talks" Ashok fading, replaced by the man who had lost her once. He leaned his head toward hers until their foreheads touched in the darkness.
"Do you believe in second chances, Sony?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Sony paused, her overthinking brain spinning. She felt the intensity in his tone. "I think... if someone loves you enough to come back, the universe has to give them a chance. Why?"
Ashok looked back at the screen, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down his cheek. "Because I feel like I've spent a lifetime trying to find my way back to this seat, next to you."
Sony didn't quite understand the weight of his words, but her heart did. She pulled his arm closer, hugging it against her side. For the rest of the movie, they didn't eat any more popcorn. They just stayed like that—connected.
After the movie, as they walked out into the cool night air toward the parking lot, Sony tried to lighten the mood with her "bold" side.
"You're such a softie, Boss," she teased, though her eyes were shining with affection. "Crying at a lion movie? I'm going to have to be the tough one in this relationship, aren't I?"
Ashok stopped by his bike and handed her the helmet. He regained his "naughty" composure, leaning over her as he buckled the strap under her chin. His fingers brushed her neck, making her shiver.
"In this relationship, PA?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave. "So you've admitted it's a relationship now?"
Sony's face turned a deep shade of crimson. "I—I meant the Boss-PA relationship! Don't use your double-meaning talk on me!"
"Too late," Ashok chuckled, hopping onto the bike. "The 'Circle of Life' has already started. And in this circle, you're the one who has to feed me chicken rice because I'm too 'emotionally hurt' to drive home hungry."
Sony laughed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder before climbing on behind him. "Fine! Chicken rice and dosa. But only because you won me that bear."
As they sped off toward their favorite street, Ashok looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Mufasa was right, he thought. The stars are the kings of the past looking down on us. And tonight, they're finally smiling.