Anya was running like her life depended on it.

With coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, she sprinted in the direction of the Mehras' apartment, her messenger bag slamming against her thigh with every step.

She skidded to a stop in front of the front door and some of the steaming liquid spilled over the top of the cup and splattered onto her leg, making her wince. She hadn't expected it to still be so hot after running all the way from the coffee shop to Nikki's house, but then again she hadn't expected to oversleep and wake up at 10 when she had agreed to meet Zayan at 9.

She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, praying that Zayan hadn't given up on her just yet.

She began counting the seconds in an attempt to slow her heartbeat. One, two, three, four, five, six...

When she had counted upto twenty one, the door was answered by a boy about her age.

He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, and wore a flannel shirt with wrinkled blue jeans. His eyes travelled up and down her body to take in her appearance, making her feel acutely uncomfortable and a little defensive.

She hadn't had time to choose what to wear, so she had simply thrown on a pair of denim shorts and an oversized tee shirt, pairing them with her sneakers.

When the boy's gaze paused on her bare legs, she cleared her throat and gave him a slight glare, as if to say eyes up here, buddy.

He shifted his scrutinizing stare to look up at her face and raised an eyebrow. "Who're you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she fired back.

"Well, look at that. Is that how you treat the guy who opens up his door for you?" He asked drily.

His door?

"You live here?" She asked, surprised.

"Uh, no," he said, shifting his weight awkwardly. "But I might as well be."

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

"I'm like a brother to Zayan," he bragged. "I practically live here."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Okay. Can I come in now? Zayan knows I'm supposed to be here."

Wordlessly, he opened the door wider for her to go in. She gave him a suspicious once-over before sauntering into the house.

"He's in his room," the boy said stiffly.

"Where-"

"Second door on the right."

Anya nodded and retreated in the direction that he had pointed towards.

When she was right in front of Zayan's bedroom, she raised her hand to knock on the door. A second later, though, she realized that it was already partially open.

She hesitantly pushed on it, and it swung open easily. She was greeted by the sight of Zayan sitting on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands. He was a picture of misery, and guilt flooded her immediately.

What should she say to him? Should she start with an apology? Pushing the thoughts away, she decided to start simple. "Hey, Zayan."

He looked up. His expression changed so many times, from shock and surprise to happiness and then annoyance, that she had a hard time keeping count.

"I thought you weren't coming."

His words melted her heart into a gooey puddle, and all of a sudden the words were rushing out of her. "I'm so sorry. I overslept, and then I woke up and realized I was late so I got dressed as quickly as I could. But mum wouldn't let me head out for a full day of sightseeing on an empty stomach so I had to stop by this coffee place to get some coffee and breakfast to-go. You know the one I'm talking about? It's right opposite the house and they have these amazing blueberry waffles, and their pastries are just dreamy. Anyway, so I tried to get here as fast as I could but then this guy who was ahead of me in the line was taking forever because his daughters could just not make up their minds-"

"You're rambling," he cut her off with an amused expression. "It's alright, we can skip a few places so we don't have to postpone it to tomorrow."

"Great," she said, relieved.

"We can start by cancelling lunch, that will save us an hour," he said with a cheeky grin.

Anya gasped. "Not the food! We never compromise on the food."

He only laughed, but a knock on the door sobered him up in an instant.

They both looked up at the boy who had let Anya in, who was currently leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Is our plan to play video games still on?"

Zayan shook his head and shot the boy an apologetic look. "Sorry Pranav, it looks like I'm going to be busy today after all."

The boy scowled. "Is it because of her?" He asked, jerking his head in Anya's direction.

Zayan opened his mouth to answer, but Anya had had enough of this guy, with his superior looks and know-it-all attitude.

"Excuse you," she almost growled. "I already had plans with Zayan since yesterday."

"So you're the one who bailed on him and left him to despair?" He asked, the disgust in his voice apparent. "I gave up my studies to spend time with him because you didn't bother to show up?"

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" She said. "You should go back to your studies, it's obvious you need it."

"Judging a book by it's cover, are we?" He scoffed. "All I was doing was being here for my friend. You were the one who was late."

"Better late than never," she retorted.

"But never late is better," his words held pure venom. "Don't you know the whole phrase? Well, you're one to lecture me about studying."

Anya let out a groan of frustration. "I overslept."

"Clearly," he drawled sarcastically, his eyes raking her body one more time, further infuriating her. "You had the time to pick the skimpiest outfit you could have worn and pick up coffee. Of course you were running late."

She tossed him an irritated look. "Zayan knows why. I don't have to explain myself to you." She looked expectantly at Zayan. "Right?"

Zayan, who had been staring back and forth between the two during their argument with a sort of fascination, looked panicked at her question.

"Uh, sure," he said, scrunching up his nose in confusion. Adorable. "You're right. I agree, one hundred per cent. What were we talking about again?"

Anya let out a short laugh. "Maybe you can start by telling me who I was just arguing with."

"Oh, right," Zayan said. "This is Pranav. He's one of my best friends. Pranav, this is Anya Brooks."

"Brooks?" Pranav asked. "Is that why you have an accent?"

Anya nodded, rolling her eyes. "Can we please go now?"

Zayan scrambled to his feet, anxious to leave before another fight broke out. "Sure."

******

"Your friend is a pervert," Anya hissed once they were out of the house and in a cab, safely out of earshot. "Did you notice the way he was staring at me?"

Zayan sighed. "I know. But I can't do anything about it."

"Of course you can."

"What am I supposed to do? Ask him to change his ways and give girls more respect?"

"Duh."

Zayan shook his head. "If I could, I would. But you don't know Pranav like I do. He won't change a bit."

Anya frowned. "Fine. Let's not talk about him anymore. Where are we heading?"

He smiled and winked at her. "You'll see. It's a good thing you wore your sneakers- you're going to need them."

******

"So now that we've seen all the important places, I think it's time for some food."

Zayan's words made her smile. "That goodness. I thought I was going to pass out from the hunger. Besides, I don't think I could have listened to you talk like a damn tour guide anymore."

Zayan elbowed her playfully. "Hey, come on, it wasn't that bad. We had fun, and learned something at the same time."

"Right."

"I'm serious! But you're right, I'm hungry too. It's 6pm, which means we ate almost fours hours ago."

"I know, I'm starving," Anya groaned. "Can we go get some coffee or something?"

He gave her a sweet smile. "I know the perfect place."

Twenty minutes later, Anya and Zayan stood in front of a little bakery cafe. The words The Pantry stood out in bright bold letters above the doorway. It was quite possibly the cutest place Anya had ever seen, complete with furniture in pastel hues and fairy lights in the windows.

"It's lovely," Anya squealed.

Zayan beamed at her. "Shall we go in?"

Anya nodded fervently. They found a table beside the window and made themselves comfortable. She scanned the menu, and her face lit up when she saw that they served all kinds of sandwiches.

She asked for a chocolate milkshake and a tomato and arugula grilled sandwich with a side of fries. She glanced up quizzically at Zayan, who was still looking through the menu as he sat opposite her.

He caught her look, and hastily ordered a cream cheese bagel with iced lemonade.

When their server gathered their menus and left, they stared at each other in awkward silence.

Anya was the first to break the quiet. "Are we going home after we eat?"

Zayan nodded. "Unless you want to do something else."

She shook her head.

"Did you have fun today?" He asked.

"Of course I did," Anya smiled warmly. "It was really interesting to see all those historical places."

"You're just saying that," he grinned. "You really had fun laughing at the way I was talking like a 'damn tour guide'."

Anya chuckled. "Yeah, that too. But honestly, I had a great time."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied with a laugh. "What did you like the best?"

"You mean besides this amazing cafe?" She smirked. "Well, I loved the paintings at the museum."

"Really?"

She nodded, then looked up as the server returned with their food. Zayan remained quiet as he waited for her to continue.

Anya bit into a fry, savouring the saltiness that tantalized her taste buds. She chewed on the food thoughtfully, then slowly answered.

"I really love art. My parents don't think I can make a career out of it, but I just can't help but love it. When I have a paintbrush in my hand, I channel all my emotions onto the canvas. It feels like all of a sudden, I have the power to do anything. When I translate my thoughts into pictures, I can let go of all my problems and be free... and at the same time, I've never felt as much in control of my life as I have when I'm painting or drawing."

Zayan simply stared at her. After a few moments, he finally spoke. "I'd like to see your art one day."

"I'll paint you a picture someday," she smiled. "I promise."

******

"Well, I had a great time today," Zayan smiled.

They were standing in the lobby of the building where Anya's family was staying. The sun had completely set in the sky, and it was almost time for dinner.

"Me too," Anya replied. "Thanks for showing me around. This city is amazing."

"Better than New York?" Zayan gave her a toothy smile.

"I'm not so sure about that," she laughed. "I'll have to think it over. But hey, if you're ever in New York, I'll be happy to return the favour."

"That's good to know," he said. He suddenly noticed her staring at something above them, and turned to follow her gaze.

She was looking at a pink kite that was fluttering around in the slowly darkening sky, being gently swayed by the breeze as it gradually made it's way back down to the earth.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I haven't flown a kite since forever," Anya explained, her eyes still glued to it as it's tail flapped about wildly.

"Wow, you're full of surprises, An. I just found out you're an artist, and now you're telling me you fly kites too?"

"Flew," she corrected. "I don't anymore."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "Didn't get the time."

"Is there a reason for this hobby of yours?"

"My grandfather taught me how to do it," she croaked softly, suddenly looking up at him. Her eyes were shining with tears that threatened to spill out. "We flew kites all the time when I was little. It was one thing that we always bonded over. It was our special connection. Atleast, until he died in his sleep."

She gulped, fighting the urge to cry. Zayan pulled her closer, and wrapped his arms around her. It was something that he had always dreamed of doing for the past two years.

She sniffled against his chest. "I miss him."

He stroked her back comfortingly, trying to soothe her. "It's okay to miss him, An. I'm sure he was a wonderful grandfather."

She broke into choked sobs. "He was. He really was."

She cried. She cried with his arms still around her, her tears soaking the front of his shirt. In that moment, she cried not only for her grandfather, but also for Zayan. She cried because she couldn't be with him, she cried because she couldn't risk getting too close for the fear that he might break her heart again. She cried because her parents wouldn't let her follow her passion. But mostly, she cried because she missed him. She missed this infuriatingly gorgeous boy who had captured her heart.

So she clung on for a few more seconds, cherishing the little time she had before cruel reality hit, reminding her that the situation was impossible. When she finally let go of him, she stepped back and wiped away her tears.

She was mortified to see that his shirt was ruined, and the fact that her face was probably red and puffy right now didn't do much to comfort her.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said gently.

She gave him a grateful smile and little wave as she turned to leave.

"Anya?" He called.

She paused and looked back. "Yeah?"

"You made a promise that you would paint me a picture. Well, I promise you that I'll definitely take you to fly a kite before you leave."

She smiled. Maybe they couldn't be together, but they would make great friends.

"Thanks, Zee."

Hey there, my lovely readers! What were your thoughts on that chapter?

What did you think of Zayan's friend?

And now what do you think of Zayan?

Also, please don't forget to vote and comment on this chapter! Thank you for all your support ❤

One last question before I leave:
If you could travel for a single day to one place on your bucket list with one person of your choice, who would it be and where would you go?

Much love, C&C xx