Whispers of Fate

𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾

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Third Person's POV

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As the moon ascended in the velvety sky on yet another evening, Atharva made his way back home. Greeted by the absence of Anisha and Maisha downstairs, Atharva's steps quickened as he hastened up the stairs.

Entering his room, he was drawn by the sounds emanating from the balcony. Peering out, he beheld an enchanting sight. The mother daughter duo, completely immersed in their own world, swaying and laughing amidst the gentle patter of raindrops.

He was struck by the sight: their silhouettes beautifully outlined by the soft glow of the lights around, and the gentle raindrops enveloping them. Standing in the doorway of the balcony, he couldn't help but gaze at them, a wide smile stretching across his lips. His heart swelled with emotion, a torrent of pure happiness flooding his senses, seeing the radiant joy emanating from the mother-daughter duo.

Suddenly, a pang of concern gripped him as he realized the potential consequences of them being out in the rain. Worried about the possibility of them falling ill from being drenched, he called out to them urgently. At the sound of his voice, Maisha quickly rushed towards him.

"Papa, look, it's raining!" the four-year-old squealed with delight, her tiny hand pointing towards the sky as her mother followed behind, both of them already soaked but still standing in the rain.

Atharva crouched down, meeting Maisha at her eye level, and gently asked, "And what are you doing, getting all wet in the rain, princess?"

Maisha looked at Atharva with sparkling eyes, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "We're dancing and getting wet, Papa! It's so much fun!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable.

Atharva couldn't help but smile at Maisha's infectious enthusiasm. He glanced at Anisha, before turning his attention back to Maisha. "Well, it does look like fun," he spoke gently. "But how about we go inside and dry off before you catch a cold, princess?"

Maisha furrowed her brow, a hint of worry crossing her face as she pondered the possibility of catching a cold. "Mamma, will I get cold?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "I don't want a runny nose."

Anisha gently placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, baby," she said with a soothing smile. "You'll be fine."

Maisha hesitated for a moment, contemplating Atharva's words before a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Then I want to play more!" she declared with determination, her enthusiasm undiminished.

Atharva interjected gently, "No, princess, no more getting wet."

Anisha chimed in, "Oh, come on, let her enjoy. It's not like it's going to rain every day."

Atharva countered with concern in his voice, "But she might get sick, and so could you, Anisha."

Anisha responded calmly, "Nobody gets sick just from getting wet, Mr. Raichand. It's about staying in wet clothes for too long or not drying properly afterward. As long as we dry off properly, we'll be fine."

Atharva shook his head, unconvinced. "Whatever! I am not arguing with you, you both are coming in, now. Enough of getting wet!"