so finally after re-watching Dil Dhadakne Do for nearly 3 times (mostly Kabir scenes on repeat) and after fighting against my procrastination for 5 consecutive days, finally wrote this piece (of shit)
Disclaimer :: there might be inconsistency present since I've written it over a period of 5 days. I, myself forgot what I wrote at times.
Zoya Aktar - daughter of Saim Ali Aktar who works for Kamal Mehra for nearly over 15 years, one of the most trusted employees of Mehra industries alongside Amrish Gill (Sunny's father).
Zoya, at the age of 24, has her own event managing company, after fighting against her father. She ran away from home at 19 to prove herself, her worth. And with little financial support from her Neelu aunty and some friends, she started her own company, bombae velvet. Although the company was in debt for the early 2 years, but with her sheer hardwork and determination and loyal support from some of her friends turned employees, her *bombae velvet* rose up and high.
Kabir and Zoya, knew each other from school. Though there was a huge difference in their financial position, they never brought that up in their friendship. They were never really close , but there was always a pull they tried hard to ignore. After Zoya ran away, they didn't meet each other for years until the very last year at the school's reunion function. And now Zoya is back at organising Kabir's parents 30th marriage anniversary at a cruise.
The Arabian Sea was a shimmering sheet of silver under the moonlight, but for Zoya, it was just a backdrop to her third double-shot espresso of the night. As the cruise's senior event planner, she was currently drowning in spreadsheets while everyone else was drowning in champagne.
She was leaning against the railing of the Deck 7 lounge, muttering to herself about misplaced centerpieces, when a shadow fell over her.
"Itne gusse mein kyun ho? Is nanhi si coffee ne tumhara kya bigada hai?"
Zoya looked up. Kabir Mehra. The guy who lived his life in slow motion while the rest of the world rushed by. He was wearing a relaxed linen shirt, his hair winfswept, and a smirk that suggested he knew exactly how handsome he looked.
"not in a bad mood Kabir", Zoya lied, straightening her blazer. "I’m working."
Kabir leaned back, mirroring her position against the rail. "Work toh kal bhi ho jayega. Par ye chand, ye thandi hawa… aur meri brilliant company? Ye baar baar nahi milega tumhe."
Zoya couldn't help a small smile. "You’re very full of yourself, aren't you?"
"Bilkul nahi," Kabir chuckled, his eyes softening. "Main bas life ko thoda light lene ki koshish karta hoon. Tum bhi try karke dekho na. Ek ghante ke liye planner banna band karo, aur bas Zoya bano, woh purani wali, jo hasti thi mere gande jokes par."
He stepped closer, the scent of his expensive cologne and sea salt hitting her all at once. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing the stack of papers she was clutching.
"Chalo," he whispered. "Ek dance. No work talk. Sirf tum, main, aur ye boring si music jise hum dono milkar thoda better bana sakte hain."
Zoya looked at the papers, then at Kabir’s outstretched hand. The way he looked at her—not as a staff member, but as if she was the only person on this ship who mattered—made her heart do a clumsy little flip.
"Theek hai," she said, finally letting go of the files. "Par sirf ek dance."
Kabir’s grin widened. "Ek hi kaafi hai, Zoya. Ek hi kaafi hai."
** playing unreleased version of manmarziyan **
As he led her toward the deck, the noise of her mind faded into the steady, rhythmic pulse of the ocean. The music, from Kabir's phone, was playing something slow and acoustic—the kind of song that felt far too intimate for a public space.
Kabir didn’t just take her hand, he reclaimed it.
"Relax, Zoe", he whispered, his voice vibrating near her ear as he pulled her flush against him. "Roster bhool jao. Bas mere steps ko follow karo."
He placed his right hand firmly on the small of her back. His touch was warm even through the stiff fabric of her uniform. Zoya’s hand rested tentatively on his shoulder, her fingers grazing the soft linen of his shirt. For a second, she was still counting napkins and wine glasses in her head, but then Kabir stepped closer, closing the gap until she could feel the steady, calm beat of his heart.
They moved in a slow, circular drag. Kabir danced like someone who felt the music in his bones.
"Tum itna darr kyun rahi ho?" Kabir murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips before locking back onto her eyes. "Yahan koi nahi hai. Sirf main hoon."
"Tum kaafi khatarnak ho, Kabir", Zoya replied, her breath hitched as he spun her out and snapped her back in, catching her waist with a playful smirk.
"Main? Tch. Main toh bilkul shareef hoon," he teased, pulling her so close their foreheads touched. "Khatarnak toh tumhari ye khamoshi hai."
As the song reached its end, Kabir slowed down. He didn't let her go, instead, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her cheek for a heartbeat too long. The world around them was spinning—the ship, the stars, the heavy expectations of the Mehra name—but in that circle of light, everything felt stationary, secondary.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, and whispered, "Agla gaana mera favorite hai. Ek aur baar phir, please?"
Zoya didn't look at her watch. She didn't look for her supervisor. She just nodded, letting Kabir lead her into the next melody.
The next morning, the mediterranean sun was unforgiving, but Kabir Mehra was radiating a glow that had nothing to do with the weather. Zoya was back at her post near the buffet, trying and failing to look professional.
"Good morning, Sunshine! Ya phir abhi bhi 'Event Planner' mode on hai?"
Zoya jumped. Kabir was leaning against a pillar, looking unfairly fresh in a crisp white captain’s hat and a simple tee.
"Kabir! Breakfast is that way," she said, pointing vaguely toward the omelet station.
Kabir stepped into her personal space, tipping his hat. "Nashta toh hota rahega. Main toh bas ye check karne aaya tha ki kal raat jo tumne smile di thi, wo kahin wahin deck par toh nahi chhod aayi?"
"Main kaam kar rahi hoon, Kabir. Tumhare papa aur Ayesha di wahan baithe hain."
"Dad ke saath baithunga toh business ki baatein hongi. Ayesha ke saath baithunga toh wo meri khichayi karegi," he sighed. "Par tumhare paas aata hoon, toh lagta hai ki is badi si ship par koi ek insaan hai jo asli hai. Jisse sirf Kabir dikhta hai."
He reached out, his thumb grazing the cuff of her uniform. "Shaam ko everyone is going to the touristy spots. Mujhe na ek chhota sa cafe pata hai, purani galliyon mein. Wahan ki coffee tumhare is 'office coffee' se hazar guna behtar hai."
"Kabir, main nahi aa sakti..."
"Roster ki fikar mat karo," Kabir interrupted, his eyes dancing. "Main Kabir Mehra hoon, yaad hai? Meri parents ka anniversary hai, unhone cruise ko rent kiya hua hai. Thoda bohot toh influence bacha hai mera. Tum bas haan keh do."
Zoya looked at the sincerity behind the swagger. "Theek hai. Par agar main pakdi gayi..."
"Toh ilzam mujhpe daal dena," he laughed, backing away. "Wese bhi, badnaam toh main hoon hi... thoda aur sahi."
He blew her a silent kiss, adjusted his hat, and walked away with that effortless stride, leaving Zoya wondering how a five-minute conversation with him felt more like a vacation than the entire cruise combined.
The sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and gold as the ship docked at the cobblestoned port. Zoya met Kabir near the crew exit, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had swapped her stiff blazer for a simple floral sundress.
Kabir was waiting, leaning against a vintage Vespa he’d somehow managed to rent. He looked at her, and for once, the witty remark stayed trapped in his throat.
"Wow," he breathed, his eyes traveling from her messy ponytail to her sandals. "Tumhe deck par hi rehna chahiye, Zoya. Agar bahar aaogi toh baaki tourists sheher dekhna bhool jayenge, sirf tumhe dekhne lagega."
"Chup raho, Kabir," Zoya blushed, hopping onto the back of the scooter. "Chalo, isse pehle ki koi dekh le."
They reached the cafe—a tiny, ivy-covered nook tucked away from the main square. Over two steaming cups of coffee, the mask finally slipped.
"Pata hai," Kabir said, staring into his cup, "Sabko lagta hai meri life ek lambi party hai. Par kabhi kabhi lagta hai main sirf ek baggage hoon jise Dad jhel raha hai just because I'm his son."
Zoya reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. "Tum baggage nahi ho, Kabir. Tum bas apni direction dhoond rahe ho. And it’s okay to be lost sometimes."
Kabir looked up, his gaze locking onto hers. The playful "chhichhora" boy was gone, in his place was someone vulnerable. "Tumhe lagta hai aisa? Sab toh kehte hain Kabir Mehra kabhi serious nahi ho sakta."
"Unhe kehne do," Zoya whispered. "Main dekh rahi hoon na. Jo Kabir yahan baitha hai, wo mujhe zyada pasand hai."
Kabir flipped his hand over, interlacing his fingers with hers. The air between them grew thick, charged with something far deeper than a holiday fling. He leaned in, his voice a low vibration.
"Zoya... agar ye cruise khatam ho gayi, aur ye ship Mumbai vapas chali gayi... toh kya tum abhi bhi mujhe aise hi dekhogi? Bina kisi tag ke? Bina kisi 'Mehra' surname ke?"
"Main pehle bhi tumhe as sirf aur sirf Kabir jana hai aur aage bhi tumhe aise hi dekhungi, Kabir. Bas coffee thodi sasti hogi isse."
Kabir laughed, a real, soulful sound. "Sasti coffee chalegi... bas tum saath honi chahiye."
Suddenly, his phone buzzed. **'DAD CALLING'**
Kabir sighed, looking at the phone like it was a ticking bomb. He turned it down on the table. "Hone do ring. Aaj raat, main sirf Kabir hoon. Aur tum sirf meri Zoya."
He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand stayed there, his thumb grazing her cheek. "Zoya," he whispered, "Mujhe lagta hai main pehli baar kisi sahi raste pe hoon."
As Zoya leaned in, Kabir met her halfway. The kiss was slow and sweet. It tasted like the coffee they had just finished and felt like the first deep breath Kabir had taken in years. When they pulled apart, Kabir stayed close, his forehead resting against hers.
"Best coffee ever," he whispered.
Zoya laughed softly, "Coffee toh thandi ho gayi hai, Kabir."
"Farq nahi padta. Bas tum yahi rehna."
The morning after the cafe kiss, the air between them had changed. It wasn’t just a crush anymore, it was an alliance. They met on the jogging track at 5:00 AM, the only time the deck was deserted.
There were no cameras, no Mehra family drama, and no expectations. When Kabir saw Zoya, he didn't say a word, he just pulled her into the shadow of the lifeboats. The kiss in the cafe had been a question, this one was an answer. It was deeper, more certain, and flavored with the salt of the sea air. They spent an hour talking about everything but the ship, their actual dreams, the lives they wanted outside of their parents' shadows.
The same day afternoon, Kabir found an unused storage nook near the engine rooms—hot, cramped, and smelling of oil, but completely private. They met there under the guise of Zoya "giving him a tour" of the ship’s lower decks.
Safe from the watchful eyes of Neelam and Kamal, Kabir’s bravado dropped. As he admitted how suffocating the pressure to marry for business felt, Zoya became his anchor, the only person who saw Kabir the pilot, not Kabir the heir. The physical tension between them grew, every touch was electric, a desperate attempt to memorize each other before the reality of the voyage caught up.
Over the next few days, they grew bolder. During a stop at a port, they slipped away from the group excursion, losing themselves in the winding streets of a coastal town.
They shared a meal at a tiny, sun-drenched bistro, sitting so close their shoulders never stopped touching. However, a near encounter with Ayesha and Pluto back at the docks forced them to split up and return to their rooms separately, albeit since the last few nights theywere spending in Zoya's room. The fear of being caught only fueled the fire. That night, Kabir sent her a message, *I don't think I can do the "secret" thing much longer.*
The tension reached its peak when Ayesha declared she wanted a divorce. Thanks to Ayesha's now would be ex husband's violent behaviourial display, it was an easy decision for the Mehra family.
But it turned out to be a *phansi ka phanda* for Kabir as Neelam Mehra cornered Kabir about the gala, where they would announce the alliance of Kabir and Noorie, a grand stage set to broadcast the "union" of their two families. Suffocated by the expectations, Kabir retreated to the bar, spending the evening in the quiet company of his sister, Ayesha.
Sensing his silent misery, Ayesha finally gave him the clarity he was too paralyzed to find on his own.
"Kabir", she said, her voice cutting through the noise of the room. "Yeh Khandaan ki izzat bachane ke chakkar mein, khud ko mat dubo dena."
The gala night was the grand finale of the cruise. Zoya was backstage, frantically checking all the arrangements, when she felt a hand on her arm.
It was Kabir, looking breathtaking in a dark velvet suit, with his tie slightly crooked, and eyes searching for her.
"Dad wahan meri 'future wife' ka announcement karne wale hain," he said, his voice flat. "Unhone ek business partner ki beti ko choose kiya hai. Unhe lagta hai ye deal finalize karne ka sabse accha tareeka hai yeh."
Zoya felt her heart sink. "Toh... toh tum yahan kyun aaye ho? You should go back. It's your family's matter."
Kabir grabbed both her hands. "Nahi, Zoya. Ye meri life ka matter hai. Uss raat uss cafe mein, maine tumhe kuch kaha tha, yaad hai? Woh sab sach tha aur main usse peeche nahi hatne wala."
Before she could protest, he pulled her out of the shadows toward the grand ballroom doors.
"Kabir, ruko! Meri uniform... log kya kahenge?"
"Logon ka kaam hai kehna, Zoya. Aaj unhe kuch dhang ka kehne ka mauka de dete hain."
He pushed the doors open. The music slowed, and hundreds of heads turned. Kamal Mehra was at the podium, champagne glass raised, but he froze as he saw his son walking down the center aisle, holding the hand of a junior staff member.
The room went silent. Kabir didn't stop until he reached the front.
"Dad, aapne kaha tha ki Mehra khandan hamesha best cheez choose karta hai," Kabir’s voice echoed. "Toh maine bhi wahi kiya. Maine apne liye sabse best insaan ko choose kiya hai."
He turned to Zoya with a soft, defiant smile. "Ye Zoya hai. Aur ye meri life ka wo part hai jise main kisi business deal ke liye sacrifice nahi karunga."
Kamal Mehra looked like he was about to explode, but then Ayesha suddenly started clapping. A slow, rhythmic sound that eventually spread through the room.
Kabir leaned down, "Maine kaha tha na? Badnaam toh main hoon hi... thoda sa aur sahi. Par kam se kam ab main iss badnami mein bhi khush hoon."
In the middle of the most expensive party on the ocean, Kabir Mehra finally had everything he wanted. He didn't need the ship or the status. He just needed the girl who loved his "sasti coffee" soul.
Churned out all the english hindi i knew 😭
Tags :: @ib-gremlin @iamadelusionalwriter @avasif @araasa @legendmoonstone @forbiddenfanaa @faebutterflygayaf @obsessedwidskincare @roses-and-iron @dhoodhsoda @ai-manre @cloudmast @nowordsareneeded
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