Between Hello and Hold.

On May 3rd, I had just learned her name: Khushi. And somehow, barely a day into knowing her, I'd already begun acting like an idiot. I asked her out to dinner with barely a conversation in between. No buildup, no rhythm. Just a clumsy leap.

The sun had already set when I sent the message. Hours passed, no reply. My stomach twisted in regret. I scrambled to undo the awkwardness with a follow-up: “I'll be there whenever you get free.” I expected silence, or worse - a goodbye. But she read my stumble as something sweet. That was her way - finding softness in places I only saw flaws.

Over the days that followed, we wandered gently into each other's worlds. She told me about home, studies, little quirks. I told her about mine - sometimes more than I planned. I even bragged about my Paneer Butter Masala, knowing full well she was from Punjab and probably grew up tasting better versions in her sleep. Still, she politely played along, and said she was impressed.

The restlessness to meet her in person grew quietly but insistently. I filled the waiting hours with long WhatsApp messages, pouring little pieces of myself into our chats - some light, some heavier than I meant to share so soon. She held them all with this rare, gentle steadiness. When she finally texted, “I’ll definitely plan to meet you soon,” it didn’t feel like a line. It felt like a promise I’d been quietly waiting to hear.

This day's story is not special because it turns heads or sets hearts racing! It's about that feeling that something between my over-explaining and her patient replies - something real was taking shape!