Chapter 11 – The Yellow Touch

The courtyard of the Veeresh mansion buzzed with laughter and cheer. Women hummed old wedding songs, relatives clapped in rhythm, and hands smeared bright yellow haldi across the groom’s skin.

Veeresh sat in the middle, his crisp kurta now stained with turmeric fingerprints. He endured it all with his usual smirk — until his eyes found her.

Poornima.

Draped in a soft pastel salwar, she stood slightly apart, holding a glass of juice, trying to escape the chaos.

Veeresh’s lips curved. He excused himself, brushing past cousins and uncles, and walked straight toward her.

“Juice section? Running away from my haldi?” he teased, his voice low.

Before she could answer, he leaned closer, his hand gently brushing her arm. With a sudden tug, he pulled her toward him. The surprise made her gasp.

In the rush, her cheek — still faintly dusted with haldi from earlier — brushed against his.

A streak of yellow marked his sharp jawline.

Poornima blinked, then laughed softly, her eyes shining. “Veeresh! You spoiled my dress.”

He smirked, tilting his head with that familiar arrogance. “You’re my friend… so you get to share my haldi.”

For a moment, the world around them blurred — the laughter, the songs, the clamor. It was just them, smiling at each other like they always had, like nothing could shift between them.

But somewhere deep inside, the turmeric-stained touch meant more than either dared to say.