“Okay,” Hiten said, glancing at her, “I’ll read a few of my latest poems, and you… you turn them into art. Deal?”

Aarya tilted her head, her eyes sparkling. “Deal! But I warn you… I might make your poems even prettier.”

Hiten laughed softly. “I think my poems are already doomed to be prettified by you.”

He began reading one aloud, his voice steady but soft, with the rhythm of the words gently filling the park.

“Raindrops dance upon the earth,

Whispering secrets of untold mirth,

A fleeting glance, a fleeting smile,

Moments remembered for a while.”

Aarya listened intently, letting the words swirl in her mind. Then she began sketching, her pencil moving gracefully over the paper. She drew a scene of rain-soaked streets, a small figure watching from a window, capturing the delicate melancholy and warmth of the poem.

Hiten peeked at her work and couldn’t hide a small smile. “Wow… you actually captured the feeling. Not just the words, but the soul of it. Incredible.”

Aarya shrugged playfully. “Your poem helped. It’s like… I’m just following your thoughts.”

They continued like this for hours, poetry and art flowing back and forth. Hiten read, Aarya drew, and sometimes he’d stop mid-line to comment on her strokes, gently teasing her:

“Hmm… that cloud looks too sad. Smile a little, it’s just rain, not a storm!”

“Noted, oh wise poet,” she replied, winking. “But rain can be dramatic sometimes.”

As the sun dipped lower, their shadows lengthened, and they paused to sip water. The calmness of the moment felt almost sacred.

“I never thought this would be so… relaxing,” Hiten said quietly, staring at the last sketches. “Being with you like this… it’s… peaceful.”

Aarya blushed slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah… I feel the same. It’s like… we’re in our own world. No one else matters.”

Hiten’s eyes softened. “Exactly. And you know… every poem I write now… I want you to see it first.”

Aarya smiled, her heart fluttering. “And every art I make… I want you to read the words behind it.”

For a few moments, they just sat there, looking at each other’s creations, silently understanding that this was more than just a collaboration—it was a reflection of their growing bond.

As they packed up their things, Hiten leaned closer and whispered, “You know… one day, I want to read a poem about us.”

Aarya laughed softly, nudging him. “Careful, poet. You might get embarrassed if I actually do.”

Hiten grinned, feeling the warmth in his chest. “Then I’ll write one just for you, so you can’t escape.”

The chapter ended with them walking back together, shoulder to shoulder, laughing lightly, a comfortable silence following, and the sun setting behind them—painting their world with golden light.

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