The fever didn't leave the next morning.
It stayed.
Low, stubborn—
draining her more than she wanted to admit.
Aakrati sat on her bed, back resting against the headboard, blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
Her laptop was open—
but untouched.
For once—
she wasn't working.
And that itself felt strange.
Her phone buzzed beside her.
She glanced at it.
Messages from Shrisha.
A missed call from Krish.
She kept it aside.
Before she could think further—
the door opened.
Her mother walked in first.
Then her father.
And the moment they saw her—
everything changed.
"Aakrati…" her mother's voice softened instantly, but there was worry underneath.
She walked straight to her.
"What is this condition?" she asked, placing her hand on Aakrati's forehead.
Aakrati tried to smile.
"I'm fine, Mom."
Her father frowned.
"You call this fine?"
"She's burning," her mother said, concern now turning into light scolding. "You don't take care of yourself at all."
"It's just fever," Aakrati replied, trying to sound casual.
"Just fever?" her father repeated. "You were out in the rain like this?"
Aakrati looked away.
"I'm okay," she said again, softer this time.
But her parents didn't look convinced.
Because they knew her.
Strong outside.
Careless with herself.
And right now—
she looked tired in a way they didn't like.
Before the moment could stretch further—
the doorbell rang.
Her mother glanced toward the hallway.
"I'll check."
Aakrati leaned back slightly, closing her eyes for a second.
Voices came from outside.
Familiar.
Then—
footsteps.
Krish walked in.
Holding a small bouquet.
"Hello, aunty… uncle," he greeted politely.
Her parents smiled immediately.
"Krish, come in," her mother said warmly.
He stepped inside—
and his eyes went straight to Aakrati.
For a second—
his expression shifted.
Concern.
Clear.
Unfiltered.
"You didn't tell me it got this bad," he said, placing the flowers gently on the table.
"I told you I'm fine," Aakrati replied, though her voice lacked its usual strength.
Krish gave her a look.
A quiet one.
The kind that didn't argue—
but didn't believe either.
Shrisha was already there, sitting near the window, scrolling through her phone.
She looked up.
"Finally," she said. "Someone who'll actually force her to rest."
Aakrati sighed.
"Can everyone stop acting like I'm dying?"
"Then stop behaving like you don't care," Shrisha shot back.
Krish sat down beside the bed.
Not too close.
Not distant either.
"Did you take medicine?" he asked.
Aakrati nodded slightly.
"Food?"
A pause.
"That's a no," Shrisha answered for her.
Krish exhaled.
"Great."
A small silence settled.
Her parents watched all of this quietly.
The way Krish spoke.
The way he stayed calm.
The way he noticed things.
It didn't go unnoticed.
Later—
while Aakrati rested again—
her parents stepped out into the living room.
Krish followed, casually.
Shrisha joined too.
"You take good care of her," her mother said, her tone softer now.
Krish smiled faintly.
"She doesn't really let anyone."
Her father chuckled.
"Still, you're around."
A pause.
And then—
that shift.
Her mother exchanged a look with her father.
"You both understand each other well," she said.
Krish didn't react immediately.
But he understood.
Shrisha, of course, didn't miss the chance.
"I've been saying this for so long," she added casually. "They're literally perfect together."
Krish glanced at her.
A quick look—
not now.
But the thought—
had already been planted.
And her parents didn't let it go.
"Maybe we should think about it," her mother said.
Not directly.
But clearly enough.
Krish stayed quiet.
Because this—
wasn't something he had expected.
At all.
Days passed.
Aakrati slowly started recovering.
Back to work.
Back to normal.
At least on the outside.
And in those same days—
conversations happened.
Between families.
Casual at first.
Then—
serious.
Krish had no idea.
Not until one evening—
his parents called him.
"We need to talk."
He sat down.
Unaware.
"Aakrati's parents called," his mother said.
Krish frowned slightly.
"Okay…?"
His father continued.
"They're thinking about your marriage."
A pause.
"With Aakrati."
Silence.
Krish blinked.
"What?"
His mother smiled softly.
"They really like you. And honestly… we do too."
He leaned back slightly.
Processing.
"No—wait," he said slowly. "You all… already talked about this?"
"Yes," his father replied calmly. "Nothing is final. But we agreed it makes sense."
Makes sense.
Krish ran a hand through his hair.
Because this—
was unexpected.
Not wrong.
But not planned.
Not like this.
He didn't respond immediately.
Because the idea of Aakrati—
wasn't new in his life.
But the idea of marriage—
was something else entirely.
The next day—
he went to meet her.
Aakrati was sitting on the couch, a file in her hand, trying to get back into work mode.
She looked up as he entered.
"You look serious," she said.
"I am."
That made her sit straighter.
"What happened?"
Krish stood there for a second.
Then exhaled.
"Our parents talked."
A pause.
Aakrati frowned slightly.
"And?"
He looked at her directly.
"They want us to get married."
Silence.
This time—
it didn't hit instantly.
It settled.
Slowly.
"What?" she said after a moment.
Krish nodded slightly.
"They've already discussed it."
Aakrati stared at him.
Trying to process.
"Without asking me?"
"Same here," Krish said quickly. "I just found out yesterday."
A long pause.
Because this—
wasn't small.
This wasn't just a suggestion.
It had already moved forward.
Aakrati leaned back slowly.
"This is… too much."
Krish nodded.
"I know."
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Because suddenly—
everything had changed.
Without either of them choosing it.
And that—
made it harder to ignore.