Divya's birthday was fast approaching, and Ritshy, on his side, had carefully prepared a surprise for her.
Finally, the long-awaited day arrived. When she got home, Divya noticed that, despite all her efforts, the light refused to turn on. But soon, a soft golden glow spread through the room. Fairy lights hanging from the walls cast a warm, cozy atmosphere; balloons floated gently in the air, some held down by silver ribbons. A nicely set table stood in the center, and on it, a small birthday cake awaited, surrounded by flower petals.
She froze for a moment, her eyes widening, then slowly scanned the room. The surprise was complete.
Ritshy stood there, a few steps away, dressed neatly—but that wasn't what drew the most attention. It was his gaze—a gaze filled with softness, with a sincerity that was almost disarming. He smiled gently, a little nervous. When their eyes met, a tender silence settled in, as if the world had stopped around them.
He didn't give a long speech. He simply stepped forward and held out the cake, with a single candle lit on top.
"Make a wish," he murmured.
Divya stayed silent. She watched the flame dance for a moment, then closed her eyes. For a brief moment, her heart grew heavy with emotions she didn't dare to name. When she opened her eyes again, slowly, Ritshy was still there. Looking at her with a quiet intensity, almost as if he was truly seeing her for the first time.
He didn't say a word, but his whole posture expressed patience, presence, and restrained tenderness.
Then he held out a small, carefully wrapped box.
Divya took it, curious, a little unsettled. When she opened it, she discovered a delicate but refined piece of jewelry. Clearly a thoughtful choice. Her fingers trembled slightly.
She looked up at him, moved.
"Why are you doing all this?" she asked, her voice a little hoarse.
Ritshy answered calmly, his eyes locked on hers:
"Because you matter to me."
He didn't move closer, didn't force anything. He simply waited. She looked away again, as if struggling with something stronger than herself. Her heart was beating fast, her defenses trembling.
He added softly:
"I don't want you to be alone on your birthday. Not this time."
Then he gestured subtly toward the table, inviting her to share this little moment with him.
No grand declarations. Just a sincere presence, a calm but deep attention. And in Divya's eyes, a crack had just opened. A glimmer of tenderness, of gratitude, and maybe… the beginning of surrender.
Divya stood still for a moment, gently clutching the small box in her hands. The silence between them wasn't empty. It was full of unspoken words, of timid glances, of hidden heartbeats. She eventually took a step, then another, toward the table. Ritshy followed her with his eyes, without moving. When she sat down, he took a seat across from her. They still didn't speak. Yet the cake, though simple, felt touching. Two small spoons were placed beside it.
Divya picked one up. She tasted a bite.
"It's good," she murmured.
Ritshy smiled, relieved.
"I made it myself."
She raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Seriously?"
He nodded, a little proud, a little shy too.
"I followed a tutorial. Three times. The first two were failures."
A small laugh escaped her lips—light, genuine.
The silence that followed was no longer tense, but comfortable. Ritshy looked at her like someone admires another without saying it.
Divya dared to look at him a little longer than before. Fewer walls. Less distance.
Then, in a low voice, almost to herself, she said:
"Thank you, Ritshy. For… all of this."
He lowered his eyes, humble.
"You deserve it."
A quiet warmth surrounded them, as if the room was breathing with them. It was a bond taking root. Gently, silently, solidly.