Parallel Hearts : Two Worlds, One Love

Saturday Night — Rakshita's Room

Saharsh sat at Rakshita's desk in her world, the pen tapping lightly against the paper as he leaned over the notebook.

He wrote:

"Rakshita,

Next Sunday, don't leave any notes. Just trust me and sleep.

A surprise will be waiting for you in my world.

No hints, no clues — just trust.

We'll definitely see each other next Sunday.

P.S. I've made a fresh batch of kachoris for you. Eat them soon or they'll get spoiled.

Also… your best friend is fierce."*

He smiled at the last line, folded the note, and placed it gently on her desk.

Same Time — Saharsh's World

Rakshita curled up in his chair, legs tucked up like a child, hugging herself and staring out the window.

"What does he mean — wait one or two more Sundays? What's he planning? Something dangerous?"

She sighed, thumped her head against her knees lightly, and muttered to herself.

"Argh, my head will burst thinking so much.

It's his job to overthink experiments.

Not mine."

Still, she grabbed a pen and scribbled down her reply.

"Saharsh, you dummy — don't try to do anything dangerous without telling me.

If there's something you want to try, experiment, or test, just tell me.

Today was nice. Cozy. I liked this 'normal' Sunday. Let's have more of them."

Return to Their Worlds — End of Sunday

The swap returned them to their own realities once again.

No pain. No glitch. No mist.

Just quiet.

But the weekday that followed brought no peace.

Midweek — Saharsh's Side

Saharsh wasn't present in class — not mentally, at least.

He sat at his desk, fingers twitching, eyes unfocused, muttering formulas and scribbles in his notebook filled with numbers and theories.

Deepak leaned over and whispered, "You've written the same formula five times, dude."

But Saharsh didn't respond.

He was lost in thought, smiling faintly.

"What if it works?

What if the experiment actually succeeds?

Would I… would I be able to handle it?

No. I have to.

It's a chance I can't ignore."

Just then — THWACK — something hit the back of his head.

He turned around, startled, and found Deepak glaring at him.

"The class ended five minutes ago, Einstein. Where were you — thinking about your otherworldly girlfriend again?"

Saharsh narrowed his eyes and huffed. "People who wear floral aprons shouldn't speak to me."

And with that, he dramatically picked up his bag and strutted out of the classroom.

Deepak, stunned, stood there. "What—?"

Meanwhile — Rakshita's Side

Across a universe, Rakshita wasn't faring much better.

She sat on her bed, textbook open but untouched, thoughts spiraling.

"He's going to do something stupid. I know it."

She buried her face in a pillow and screamed into it:

"Stupid, stupid, STUPID Saharsh!"

Anaya peeked in from the hallway. "Need help murdering someone?"

Rakshita glared. "Not yet."

Saturday Night — Rakshita's Room

Rakshita smiled as she wrote her note, thinking of the crispy kachoris.

"That kachori was dangerously delicious. I swear, I considered marrying it.

Anaya says she's coming over next Sunday — and that you better cook something for her too.

Good luck handling her tantrums while I'm gone!"

She placed it where he'd find it, still half-laughing.

Same Time — Saharsh's World

But tonight, Saharsh wasn't at his desk.

He wasn't preparing notes.

He wasn't pacing in his room.

He was standing in front of Deepak's door, leaning against it like a lost kid waiting to be let in.

Deepak opened the door and nearly jumped back.

"What the heck are you doing here?! Are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten what happened two Sundays ago? You almost died!"

Saharsh just smiled faintly. There was fear behind his eyes, but also something else — resolve.

"Can't I just spend a Sunday with my best friend?"

Deepak frowned. "Not if I'm going to wake up next to your dead body, no way."

Saharsh gave him the biggest pair of puppy eyes he could muster. "Please! Won't you help me, Deepak?"

Deepak stared at him with disgust. "Please don't try to be cute. I'm not Rakshita, okay?"

Saharsh clapped his hands. "So that's a yes!"

He barged in and dove straight onto the bed, sprawling across it like a human starfish.

Deepak blinked. "Leave some space, drama boy!"

Saharsh rolled to one side with exaggerated sighs. "Fine, fine. Look — I won't take much space. Happy?"

Deepak grumbled. "How do you even have a girlfriend?"

Saharsh teased, "Like you even have one."

Deepak shot back, "At least I'm not stuck in a universe-warping love story!"

Saharsh clutched his chest in mock pain. "Aww, that hurt my feelings."

Deepak shook his head. "Okay, enough with your nautanki. Just sleep."

Saharsh grinned and whispered, "Thanks, Deepu."

"Go to sleep, idiot."

The lights went off.

But neither of them truly slept.

Because tomorrow wasn't just another Sunday.

It was the Sunday.

The one that could change everything.

Sunday Morning — Rakshita's Side

The smell reached her before her eyes even opened.

Freshly made parathas.

Crisp. Spiced. Buttery.

It wasn't a dream. It was far too real.

Then came the sounds — the clinking of utensils, a pan shifting, soft footsteps.

Rakshita's eyes snapped open.

Wait… what?!

She sat up straight, heartbeat picking up speed.

A flood of thoughts rushed through her mind like a stampede:

"Who's in the kitchen? Is it… a thief?!

Wait no — which thief cooks breakfast while robbing a house?

So then… who? Deepak?"

She frowned.

"No. He wouldn't cook this early. He wouldn't even wake this early let alone coming to his friend's house to cook for me.

Could it be… Saharsh's parents?"

Her eyes widened as the idea formed.

"Oh my God. Did his mom come to visit?

Am I about to meet his mother?!

Do I look like a mess? I'm in his clothes.

What if she thinks—"

And just like that, her face turned bright red, heat rushing up her neck to her cheeks in an instant.

"I swear, if his mom walks in and thinks I slept here with her son—"

Rakshita practically combusted from within, her blush as red as sun-scorched tomatoes.

Taking a breath, she cautiously sat upright on the bed, preparing to stand —

when she noticed something.

Someone was standing beside her.

A figure — tall, slim — leaning slightly toward her.

Her heart skipped.

But it wasn't Deepak.

It wasn't his mom.

It wasn't anyone she recognized.

A boy stood beside the bed — someone she didn't know.

And yet, something about his presence… flickered strangely familiar.

He smiled nervously, then slowly stretched his hand toward her — a peaceful gesture, a kind of "good morning" offering.

But Rakshita's instincts didn't wait.

SMACK!

Her palm flew up and slapped him across the face.

The sound rang out through the room like a gunshot.

The boy stumbled back, stunned, hand over his cheek.

Rakshita stared, frozen in shock — eyes wide, breath held.

"…WHAT?!"