The white t-shirt sticks to his body, Gripping every curve of his muscles he has built, While his longish hair is curled up, Giving it a twist. He shakes it off at me, Teasing me before he even comes close, I only grin at him, As I read him like a prose. His stubble tickles my neck, While he leaves kisses of droplets, He smells like rain and now, me, Living an unforgettable scene. song in the background: tum se hi from jab we met

There must be a word for this situation: " When you know someone from the media you consume, but haven't taken any effort stay updated...

Under dramatic skies, With quick winds, He stands on his terrace watching, The rain pour, Until his eyes see her, On another terrace, Few...

Ek naam jo atka hua hai, Zehan mein kal se yun, Kyu yaad aa raha hai, Achanak se tu?

We are meant for mornings with good light, To moonless nights, With conversations plenty, And sleep scanty. We are meant for places with...