Niyati slid into her window seat, grateful for the quiet. After two weeks in Spiti, living out of a backpack and chasing sunrises, all she wanted was a nap before her next adventure—or at least a cup of decent coffee.
She plugged in her earphones and leaned back... until someone dropped into the aisle seat beside her.
Her eyes flicked sideways. Hoodie guy.
"You again?" she muttered, pulling out one earbud.
"Don't look so happy," he grinned. "I was hoping for someone friendlier this time."
Niyati rolled her eyes. "I was hoping for legroom."
He chuckled, stretching out his long legs. "You must be really lucky, then. I don't usually sit next to grumpy strangers."
She raised an eyebrow. "You talk a lot for someone who looked like he was hiding from the world ten minutes ago."
Vignesh paused. Most people tried to get a selfie the second they recognized him. But not her. Either she had no clue who he was—or didn't care.
And weirdly... that felt kind of nice.
The flight took off. Somewhere over the clouds, a flight attendant passed by, paused, and did a double take.
"Sir... are you... Vignesh Puthur?"
Niyati blinked, confused, as the attendant beamed. "My son's your biggest fan! Can I get a photo for him?"
Write a comment ...