"Well, I texted you the address," she says coyly over the phone, her voice a playful melody in the quiet of my room. "And for the important thing... wear something easily takeoffable." Her words hang in the air, a teasing smile echoing through the line. I laugh, caught off-guard. "Oh, game mode is totally on for you, Miss Girlfriend," I reply, my curiosity piqued.

Her laughter is the sweet sound of a bell as she tells me she's sleepy and signs off with a cheeky "Bye, see you later." The line goes dead, leaving me with a million questions and a racing heart. What kind of date requires clothing that's easy to remove? I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the glow of my phone screen the only light in the room. The urge to Google the address is strong, but I resist, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

My eyes drift to my laptop bag and camera on the floor. I decide to charge my laptop and tackle the mountain of photos from Jimin and Ruchi's engagement party. As I sift through the images, I realize there's more of Ishika than anyone else.

People often say that, to get a good picture, the camera has to fall in love with the subject. And in that blue lehenga, Ishika had certainly captured the heart of my lens. She looked breathtaking, and I couldn't help but linger over her photos as I edited. Her smile, the way she held her champagne glass, the sparkle in her eyes—each moment was a story waiting to be told.

With a newfound determination, I created a separate folder for her images. The click of the mouse felt like a declaration as the pictures transferred over—over 300 of them. It wasn't like I had feelings for her or anything. I'm not that guy. But there was something about her that intrigued me, something that made me want to capture more than just her beauty.

As I worked through the night, each photo revealing another facet of her personality, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a story here, a narrative that deserved to be told. Her expressions, from laughter to thoughtfulness, each one telling a silent tale of the evening she'd had. The way she interacted with others, the way her eyes lit up when she saw something she liked—it was all too intriguing.

The clock ticked by, and the soft hum of the laptop was the only company I had. The blue jhumka on the bedside table caught my eye, a perfect match to the blue in her lehenga. I picked it up, examining its delicate design under the soft light, feeling the weight of it in my hand, holding it alongside her image on the screen, it felt like a piece of her I could touch, a connection that was more than just pixels.

The day arrived, and as the evening approached, so did the excitement and a hint of nervousness. I dressed as she instructed, the anticipation making the fabric of my clothes feel lighter, as if they were already preparing to be shed at her whim.

The cab ride to the address she provided was filled with a peculiar mix of excitement and skepticism. A showroom? That too of all places, a bathroom ware shop? What could she possibly have in mind? The thought danced in my head like a mischievous pixie, leading me through the twists and turns of the city streets.

I called her again, feeling a bit like I was about to step into a practical joke. "You're not messing with me, are you?" I ask, trying to keep the doubt out of my voice.

Her laughter tinkled through the phone, a sound that managed to be both reassuring and infuriatingly cryptic. "Just trust me," she said, and something in her tone made me do just that.

I step out of the cab, the sound of the engine fading into the urban symphony of the city. The showroom looms before me, a bastion of porcelain and chrome gleaming under the streetlights. This is definitely not the kind of place I'd expect to find romance, but then again, that's Ishika for you—different from others. I check the address one last time and, with a deep breath, head towards the entrance.

As the doors slide open, the cool air of the showroom greets me, and I find myself in a world of gleaming fixtures and gleaming tiles. The place is eerily quiet, and the only sound is the echo of my footsteps on the polished floor. The thought crosses my mind that maybe she's setting me up for some kind of reality TV prank show, but I shake it off.

Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around to see Ishika standing there, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ready for our date?" she asks, and I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "As ready as I'll ever be," I reply, trying to match her energy.

The showroom isn't just empty of people; it's a blank canvas. No sales tags, no price lists, just rows upon rows of bathtubs, showers, and sinks. "What's the plan?" I ask, looking around. She winks and takes my hand, leading me through the aisles.

"First things first," Ishika says, pulling out a blindfold from her purse. "Trust falls are a thing of the past. Tonight, it's trust wander." Before I can protest, she ties it around my eyes, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. She whispers in my ear, "I promise it'll be worth it."

Her hand guides me through the maze of bathroom fixtures, the cool metal and porcelain a strange contrast to the warmth of her touch. I feel a bit ridiculous, but her excitement is contagious, and I can't help but smile. She leads me to a spot, and I hear the sound of fabric brushing against something soft. "Okay, sit down," she instructs, and I feel the plushness of a chair beneath me. The anticipation builds as she leaves my side, the sound of her footsteps fading away.

Moments later, she returns, and I hear the jingle of keys. "Got the keys," she says, her voice filled with accomplishment. "Now, let's go." She takes my hand again, and we ascend the stairs to the upper floor. The darkness of the blindfold heightens my other senses; the sound of her heels clicking against the steps, the faint scent of her perfume, and the feeling of her palm, slightly damp from the excitement.

The door at the top of the stairs opens, and she guides me through. "Welcome to our private bathroom wonderland," she says with a dramatic flourish. The floor feels different here—softer, more luxurious. I'm led into a space where the air is warmer, and the sound of running water reaches my ears. The blindfold is removed, and the sight before me is like stepping into a fantasy.

"I boo..." she starts, but I don't let her finish before I interrupt with a playful grin, "So, you're telling me that you went full-on 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' and reserved an entire bathroom showroom just for us?"

Her cheeks color with a hint of embarrassment, but her smile never wavers. "Well, when I have an idea, I like to go all in," she admits, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "But it's not just for show. I actually have to choose some fixtures for my Mom's house renovation. Thought it'd be fun to mix business with date."

"Plus," she adds, "I don't like shopping in crowded places. It's so... overwhelming. And on a positive note, we can get to know each other in a more...unique way."

I chuckle, getting her point, "So, it's a private shopping date?" I ask, trying to wrap my head around the unusual setting.

"Exactly!" she exclaims, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "We can take our time, talk, and enjoy without the pressure of salespeople or crowds."

As I look around, the sheer grandeur of the place hits me—the gleaming chandeliers reflecting off the chrome fixtures, the plush rugs underfoot, and the walls adorned with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. The ambiance is unexpectedly romantic, the soft lighting bouncing off the chrome surfaces and casting a warm glow around us.

"So, what are we actually buying?" I ask, trying to keep the skepticism out of my voice as we wander through the showroom. I pretend not to see the array of bathtubs and jacuzzis, focusing instead on the way her eyes light up as she talks about her mom's renovation plans.

Ishika's cheeks flush slightly, and she laughs. "Well, I didn't exactly bring you here to buy a toilet," she says, her voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But, I thought it could be an adventure, you know? Something different from the usual dinner and a movie."

"So, what is it, then?" I ask, genuinely curious. She takes a step closer, her hand reaching out to a large, freestanding bathtub with a coy smile. "This," she says, her voice a seductive whisper as she runs her hand over the porcelain. "We're here to buy bathtubs!"

Two of them, to be exact," she adds, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "But before we make such an important decision, I always like to...try before I buy." She turns the tap, and the sound of water rushing out fills the silence of the showroom.

****

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