Arylie OS : The Storm | Imlie | Fahmaan Khan | Sumbul Touqeer

 Imlie had read about the storm in the paper. The Moon Times was making all kind of predictions about wind gusts and inches of rain but, as Imlie had drifted to sleep to the 11 o'clock news, the weatherman had said the storm would likely hit north of Delhi and may miss the Delhi city all together.

She woke up to a loud bang of thunder and a large tree branch pounding rhythmically in the wind against her window. She sat up right and tried to calm her breathing, looking around in shock. The courtyard outside her second story window was lit by the streetlights but she couldn't see throughs the heavy rain beating against her window. 'So much for missing Delhi,' she thought.

She rubbed her eyes and cursed herself for falling asleep in her work clothes. Her new job at the library required much more professional attire than her old job at the EL and she had spent her first two paychecks almost exclusively on long skirts, silk blouses, and tiny cardigans. She liked the job. Sure, she still spent plenty of time in an uncomfortable chair but at least there were people to chat with and down time she could fill reading whatever she pleased. She was off the next day but a glance at the clock above the microwave confirmed her suspicions; 3:15am was far too early to be awake.

She pulled her self off the couch slowly and crossed the apartment into her closet. She reemerged into the living room a few minutes later in fraying gray sweats and a navy sweatshirt Aryan had left at her apartment last weekend. She pressed the neckline to her nose and breathed deeply, smiling to herself. He must have worn the sweatshirt at his workshop, as it smelled strongly of wood and vaguely of sweat. She pulled the blanket off the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders tightly. She assured herself she'd curl into bed and fall asleep quickly but, as her head hit the pillow, another roar of thunder filled her apartment and she gasped as lightening followed it. She threw the comforter over her head and tried to block out the noise of the downpour and occasional thunder outside. She let her mind wander to safer places.

She hadn't talked to Aryan since early the previous morning, before she went to the library. He had told her he'd call the next afternoon, when he finished a big order. The Tripathis had ordered a matching kitchen, dinning, and bedroom set for their only daughter, who was getting married next month. It was his biggest order to date, he had told her three times. He spent weeks sketching and resketching and she had watched him happily from across her kitchen table, as she combed through job openings in the Moon Times. He had spent the last five or so days in overdrive, desperate to finish the order to the highest quality possible. She had stopped by the workshop a few days ago but it wasn't an easy commute for her and she had been busy working at the library since. She wondered when he would finish tomorrow, what time she could expect his call. She knew she needed groceries and shouldn't sit around all day waiting but it sure was tempting…

Another roar of thunder shivered her to the bone and she tried to bury her head deeper in her pillow. She peaked out from under the comforter and saw the clock on her nightstand now read 3:40. Had she only been enduring this storm for 25 minutes? It felt like a lifetime. She was sure she'd never fall asleep now. Faintly, she heard the sound of knocking on her door. She threw the comforter off her and perked up, listening intently. 'Who would be at my door in the middle of this storm at this hour?' she asked herself.

Sundar the Bandar Was the only logical answer. Surely he was looking for a shoulder to cry on and someone to make him a cup of hot chocolate. She rolled her eyes and climbed out of bed. The knocking got a bit louder as she approached the door. She sighed loudly. "I'm an engaged woman, Bandar," she said loudly as she unlocked the door and threw it open dramatically.

But leaning against her doorframe, hair and flannel soaking wet, was Aryan Singh Rathore. "I am well aware," he replied softly, taking her hand with her engagement ring off the doorframe and kissing it lightly.

She giggled happily. "What are you doing here," she asked, a smile dancing on her lips.

He shuddered dramatically. "This storm had me really scared," he said, eyes wide in mock fear.

She laughed again and stepped back to let him into the apartment. As she closed and locked the door behind them, he peeled off his wet jacket and hung it over a kitchen chair. "Well, it had me scared," she said softly, staring out at the rain still pounding against the window.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "That's why I'm here," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She noticed then he was still in his work jeans and boots. "Have you…have you been home," she asked.

"No," he said, sitting on the couch and unlacing his boots. "I realized sometime around noon that you have tomorrow off and I wanted to spend the day with you. So, I worked through lunch and dinner…and I finished the Tripathi's order. The storm was starting up just as I finished so I decided to drive her and check on you."

She smiles and flopped next to him on the couch with a happy sigh. "You sure are a nice guy, Aryan Singh Rathore."

He pulled her closer with one arm and kissed the top of her head once again. "Sure am a lucky guy too."

They stayed on the couch catching up and Imlie hardly noticed the storm outside. She told Aryan about her day at the library and he showed her Polaroids of the furniture he had made the Tripathi girl. The last moment Imlie remembered before she faded to sleep is telling Aryan she sure would like a dinning table like that...

She woke up the next morning curled in her bed next to a quietly snoring Aryan. The courtyard of the apartment complex was flooded but the sky was blue and they had the whole day ahead of them.