Something About Us- MG || (Part 60|Page 60) - Page 20

Part 16

Beautiful and Vibrant Update

I totally appreciate Maan for going behind Geet and letting her know

he wants to go on a Date to the carnival.

and wow it brought both closer both sharing their meals and drinks

without any hesitations

16

maan realized he treat geet in same way other so called elite people do

both maan n geet enjoyed their time in carnival with no gaurds/ walls around them

Fantastic update wonderful simply amazing 🤩 🤩 🤩

Part 17

The music swelled around them, blurring into laughter and movement and the scent of sugar and spice. The crowd was thick now—families, couples, teens—streaming in all directions. Geet barely registered any of it.

What she did register, however, was the way Maan’s hand settled lightly against the small of her back.

It wasn’t meant to linger. It wasn’t an invitation.

It was instinctive—like his body had made the decision for him.

A simple gesture, really. Just enough pressure to guide her through the throng of people, to keep her from being jostled or separated from him.

But Geet felt it everywhere.

His hand. His presence. His steadiness.

She should’ve said something. Teased him, perhaps. Made some dry remark about alpha tendencies and personal space.

But she didn’t.

She let it happen.

Let his hand rest there, warm and grounding, as his body moved closer to hers in that way only crowds could justify.

And she didn’t step away.

Because the truth was—she didn’t want to.

The air between them had been shifting all evening. Not in obvious ways. Not in declarations or dramatic glances. But in moments like this.

In the silence between them. In the easy laughter. In the shared bites of food and unspoken comfort of just being around each other.

It was dangerous.

And Geet—who had learned the hard way how fragile moments could be—felt it unraveling inside her.

They passed a stage where a local band had begun performing under strings of golden fairy lights. The music floated through the air, playful and light, but Geet wasn’t listening.

Her gaze had shifted, caught on a group of children running through the crowd with helium balloons tied to their wrists.

One balloon—a bright pink one—slipped from a little girl’s hand and drifted into the sky. The girl stopped in her tracks, face crumpling. Her mother quickly tied another to her wrist, and the child lit up again, all smiles and energy.

And for some reason, that simple moment—a lost balloon and a restored smile—made Geet laugh softly.

The kind of laugh that came from a place she hadn’t visited in a long time.

Maan turned his head toward her, catching the sound, his brows lifted in quiet curiosity.

“You like those?” he asked. His voice had dropped a little, low and speculative.

She didn’t look at him. Just smiled at the kids, still watching. “I just like how happy they are.”

There was a beat of silence.

And when she finally turned, she found him already looking at her.

Really looking.

And just like that, something shifted again.

Her pulse fluttered.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly very aware of herself. It was strange—after everything they’d been through, all the versions of herself she had stood in front of him as—this was the first time she felt shy.

They kept walking, stepping past the edge of the crowd and into a quieter area near the children’s play section.

And then—Maan stopped.

Geet slowed with him, confused, until she followed his gaze and realized what he was looking at.

A whirl spinner ride.

The old-fashioned kind—paint peeling, metal bars worn from years of use. Children clung to it with gleeful shrieks as it spun, wobbling like it would fall apart but somehow never did.

Maan turned to her. And smirked.

“What?” she said, already on the defensive.

“You look like you want to ride it.”

Geet let out a scoff. “I do not.”

He didn’t look convinced.

She folded her arms. “I just said I liked watching happy kids. Not that I wanted to be one.”

He tilted his head. “Hmm.”

And then, with the kind of reckless confidence only he could wear like second skin, he gestured casually.

“Hop on.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He was already walking toward it. “Get on.”

Geet stared after him like he’d grown an extra head. “Maan, that ride is for children.”

He barely looked back. “You sighed like a tragic film heroine staring at a window on a rainy day. The least I can do is offer you your cinematic moment.”

She opened her mouth, ready to snap back—then shut it.

Because the worst part?

She kind of did want to.

And the second-worst part?

He knew it.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I enjoy seeing you wrestle with your dignity,” he replied smoothly. “Especially when you’re losing.”

With a groan, Geet stepped onto the platform and grabbed one of the bars.

Maan gave it a hard spin, sending the ride whirling. She shrieked, clutching the metal tighter, laughter bursting out of her as the world spun and tilted.

And then—he did the unthinkable.

He jumped on.

Geet gasped as the momentum shifted, nearly sending her into him. “Maan!”

He was laughing.

Actually laughing.

Reckless and loud and utterly free.

Geet barely managed to keep her balance, her hands gripping the bars, her body tilting toward his. Her laughter mingled with his, bright and breathless and entirely unguarded.

And through all of it—his body remained steady, close, quietly bracing her. Just enough to keep her from falling.

When the ride finally slowed, they staggered off, both breathless, both too close.

Geet pressed a hand to her forehead, her hair a mess, her lips trembling with residual giggles. “That was—”

“Terrifying?” Maan offered.

“Ridiculous.”

He grinned. “Same thing.”

And they just stood there for a moment, side by side, laughing like two people who didn’t know how to be anything else.

And Geet?

She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him like this.

Wasn’t sure anyone had.

++++

By the time they left the carnival behind, the sky had slipped into that tender shade of violet where night hadn’t fully taken over, but the day had clearly said its goodbyes. The golden lights of the fair faded into the background, their footsteps now echoing softly against the quieter streets.

Geet walked beside him, arms folded loosely, the chill of the evening licking at her bare skin. It wasn’t cold—not really—but there was a sudden stillness in the air that made her acutely aware of every brush of his shoulder, every accidental nudge as their paths lined up too perfectly.

They weren’t talking.

And yet, the silence between them didn’t feel awkward. It felt… suspended. Like the world had paused for a little while to give them this sliver of peace they hadn’t asked for—but somehow needed.

The earlier laughter, the spinning, the chaos—it had all settled into something quieter now. Something more dangerous.

Their hands brushed.

Not deliberately. Not with meaning. Just… accidentally.

And neither of them moved away.

Geet’s breath caught, subtle and soundless, but her gaze remained straight ahead. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to. She could feel the tension humming in the air like a thread strung too tight between them.

Maan didn’t say a word. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his strides relaxed, like nothing about this moment was unusual. But his jaw was locked, his shoulders coiled tighter than they appeared, and even without turning, she could sense it.

He’d felt it too.

The brush of skin. The almost of it.

Geet’s fingers twitched at her side—so close to reaching out and taking his hand for real. Just to see what it would feel like. Just to see if he’d let her.

But she didn’t.

And neither did he.

And somehow, that silence was louder than any words they could’ve spoken.

++++

Her building came into view far too quickly for Geet’s liking. The soft yellow lights spilling out from windows overhead, the chipped blue door she passed every day—it all looked exactly the same. Except now, she was arriving with someone beside her.

Someone who shouldn’t have felt like he belonged here.

And yet—Maan did.

He stopped when she did, just outside her door, the air between them stretching thin with things neither of them were willing to say.

Geet turned slightly, half-facing him, a small smile playing on her lips even though her heart had begun a steady, fast thrum in her chest.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, voice softer than usual. “I know carnivals aren’t really your thing.”

Maan tilted his head, something unreadable passing through his gaze.

“I didn’t hate it,” he said after a beat.

Her smile widened. “High praise.”

He didn’t laugh. Not quite. But his lips curved a little—just a twitch at the corners.

Then he said, quieter this time, “So. You got what you wanted.”

Geet blinked. “And what was that?”

He studied her, gaze dark, almost too intense under the soft streetlamp glow. “A date with me.”

She lifted an eyebrow, playing along because it was easier than letting herself unravel. “Technically, you asked me.”

His smirk deepened. “Details.”

But the way he said it—low, slow, deliberate—stripped the word of its playfulness. It wasn’t teasing anymore.

The air thickened between them.

Geet’s breath slowed, chest rising and falling in rhythm with the weight of the moment.

And then—he shifted.

Just a little.

Just enough.

He took a step closer, and her pulse jumped in response.

Her lips parted. Her fingers twitched at her side. And when he leaned in, slow and deliberate, something in her surrendered.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

She didn’t mean to—it just happened.

Anticipation curled through her. This was it. The moment they’d been circling all evening. The thing they hadn’t dared touch.

But instead of his mouth finding hers—

He kissed her forehead.

A single, soft press of his lips.

It was warm.

Brief.

Reverent.

And completely unexpected.

Geet’s eyes flew open, stunned.

Maan had already stepped back.

His hands were once again in his pockets. His face calm. But there was a tension in his jaw, something locked down tight beneath his usual restraint.

And for a moment, she couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t even breathe properly.

Because that kiss—gentle and controlled—felt more intimate than anything they had shared before.

More personal. More careful.

Too careful.

She didn’t know what to make of it.

He had kissed her before—quick, bold, unthinking kisses. Like he’d claimed her without permission.

But this?

This had felt like he was asking for permission to feel something.

And that terrified her.

Geet swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of everything. Had she misread the night? Had he felt it too? Or had she been the only one spinning?

She was still trying to sort through the noise in her head when he spoke again—voice low, familiar, almost amused.

“Don’t be late to work.”

She blinked.

That was it?

That was all he was going to say after a night like this?

But she managed a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good night, Maan.”

And before she could change her mind, before she could ask him anything she wasn’t ready to hear the answer to—she stepped inside.

Only when the door closed behind her did she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Because whatever had just passed between them—whatever that forehead kiss meant or didn’t mean—it was not nothing.

And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore.

++++

Maan stood beneath the pale glow of the streetlight, the night curling around him like something unfinished.

The carnival had long faded into the background, but the feeling hadn’t.

The echo of Geet’s soft breath. The stillness of her frame. The way her eyes had drifted shut as he leaned in.

She had expected him to kiss her.

And he—he had almost done it.

His face had been just inches from hers, her lips parted slightly, her expression open, vulnerable.

And for the first time in a long, long time, he had paused.

Not because he didn’t want to kiss her.

But because he did.

Because if he had, it wouldn’t have been like the first time, when she had intrigued him—this woman cloaked in desperation and pretty lies, trying to survive a world that didn’t want her. Nor like the second time, when attraction had gotten the better of him in a too-quiet penthouse that had felt far too lonely.

Both times, it had been about him.

His curiosity. His want. His impulse.

But this time?

This time, it would’ve been about her.

And he couldn’t do that—not when he knew it would change everything.

Because Geet was no longer the struggling actress trying to charm her way into someone else’s world.

She was no longer a beautiful, clever girl he’d once thought would burn out as fast as she flared.

She had changed.

She had grown.

And he’d watched her do it.

Quietly. Steadily. On her own.

From the first day she reappeared in his life—no makeup, no pretenses, working those events with quiet dignity—he had seen something shift.

He’d seen her take the humiliation the elite threw at her and still hold her spine straight. He had seen her carry trays through those marble-floored halls like a ghost, barely acknowledged—and never once bitter.

He had seen her strength.

He had watched her earn her stability, build a career, take a job he had dangled like a dare and turn it into something she owned.

He had seen her grow.

And somewhere along the way, her growth had forced his.

Maan , who had once only admired power and brilliance, found himself drawn to something else entirely—her grace.

Her calm.

Her quiet refusal to fall apart, even when everything around her had tried to reduce her to nothing.

And he admired her for it.

Deeply.

Almost painfully.

So when she looked at him tonight—**not as someone who wanted to be chosen, but as someone who had already chosen herself—**he couldn’t take what she was silently offering unless he meant every second of it.

And tonight, he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

So he’d done the only thing he could trust himself to do.

He kissed her forehead.

Soft. Intentional.

The kind of kiss that asked for time.

And when she opened her eyes and blinked up at him in confusion, he knew—she didn’t understand.

Not yet.

But maybe someday she would.

Because this wasn’t nothing.

This wasn’t a moment.

This was her.

And he couldn’t risk ruining that.

Maan exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, jaw tight as the night pressed in around him.

He looked at her door one last time. No light. No shadow.

She was probably lying in bed now, still trying to figure out what the kiss had meant.

And he hoped—he hoped she didn’t think it meant less.

Because the truth was… it had meant more.

More than either of them knew what to do with.

So finally, with effort that felt heavier than it should’ve, Maan turned away.

And walked down the empty street with footsteps slower than usual, heart heavier than expected—
because if he hadn’t walked away right then, he wouldn’t have been able to.

Part 17

Laughter Filled, Fun and Vibrant Update

Maan and Geet both thoroughly enjoyed themselves together

at the carnival

and it almost seems like it brought them closer in many ways

yet both or especially Maan hesitates to confirm it

but I cannot wait when these two finally confess their love for each other

the forehead kiss did seem different and Geet felt it too

Beautiful part

Hope Geet understands Maan’s need of time and Maan understands Geet’s

Cont soon

17

great update

both enjoyed time at carnival giving different meaning to silence between them

Part 16

great that Maan realised what he said

at least he knew he hurt Geet

of cos Maan went after Geet

Geet was indeed upset

so Maan found her

but she did not want to face him

he hated seeing Geet like this

as expected Maan told Geet he would like to attend the Carnival with her if the offer was still there

Geet was clearly elated

wonderful that Maan was looking forward to the carnival

ahh both were excited for the carnival

liked Geet admiring Maan

Geet's thoughts were reasonable

not surprised that they both enjoyed themselves

after all it was the company

pleased that Geet opened up with Maan

oh they shared the food and soda

adore Maan's care for Geet

things are changing slowly between them