A Love Story
"Under the Monsoon Sky"
It started with a stolen glance in the college library. Sapna, with her dark eyes buried in books and dreams, never expected to feel a jolt of electricity when Ajit — the campus heartthrob — asked if he could share her table.
"You're reading poetry?" he asked, eyes dancing with curiosity.
Sapna nodded, her voice soft. "Only when it rains."
That evening, as monsoon clouds broke open the sky, Ajit found her again — on the rooftop, drenched in rain, spinning like she was born from it. He couldn't resist. He joined her, their fingers brushing, their laughter echoing in the storm.
From that moment, their love ignited like lightning.
They’d sneak away after classes — Sapna's eyes always searching for poetry in the world, and Ajit's hands always finding her fingers under the table, under the stars, or between the pages of her notebook.
Their nights were filled with whispers and wandering hands. In the quiet corners of her room, lit only by a small lamp and the promise in their eyes, he’d trace poems on her back with his fingertips. She’d kiss him like each second was borrowed from time.
One rainy night, when the world outside was soaked and sleeping, Ajit kissed her neck slowly, breathing in the scent of her wet hair. She arched toward him, a soft gasp escaping her lips. “You feel like a dream,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips to hers. “Then never wake up.”
Their bodies tangled like the branches of a storm-tossed tree, raw and real. Skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat, they explored each other like maps they never wanted to stop reading.
But love, like rain, can come with thunder.
Her father disapproved of Ajit — the boy with no money, no "future". One evening, she stood trembling at her door, eyes brimming. “We have to stop seeing each other.”
Ajit took her hand, pressed it to his chest. “Then rip this heart out too.”
Tears fell. But that night, they ran away. Not far — just far enough to prove love wasn’t bound by walls.
In a small room above an old café, with nothing but each other and a leaky roof, they made love like it was rebellion. Rain falling. Hearts racing. Clothes tossed. Hands trembling. Every touch a promise.
Years later, they'd sit on that same rooftop — married, tired, still in love — reading poetry in the rain. His fingers still tracing verses on her back. Her lips still stealing kisses from his neck.
Because some loves don’t fade. They just burn slower. Hotter. Forever.
#LoveInTheAir
#RomanticVibes
#ForeverYours
#MyHeartIsYours
#EndlessLove
#TogetherForever
#LoveGoals
#SoulmateConnection
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