SHALL WE MEET AGAIN? WRITTEN BY ARJUN SHAJI

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, painting the room in a honeyed glow. Middlesbrough was quiet, wrapped in the kind of calm that only comes after spring rain. The air still smelled faintly of wet earth and wildflowers from the garden Eve had planted years ago.

Krishna lay on his side, head propped on one arm, watching her—his Eve.

No longer Hestia. Not even Rhea.

Just the woman who always stole the blankets and insisted tea tasted better when poured with love.

“You snore now,” she mumbled, eyes still closed but a smile tugging at her lips.

Krishna chuckled. “You drool. I think we’re even.”

She turned to face him, brushing a lock of grey-streaked hair from his face. “Eighteen years. Can you believe it?”

He shook his head slowly. “Sometimes I still wake up expecting to see fire in your eyes.”

“Now all you see is mascara stains and me yelling about laundry.”

“And yet, I wouldn’t trade a second of it.”

He hesitated. “You know… I was never afraid of dying. Not even during those days.”

She looked at him, quiet.

He smiled faintly. “I was only afraid of a life where you didn’t love me back.”

They both fell quiet, wrapped in the comfort of memory.

“You remember what Hades said?” she whispered, voice barely audible. “That the world would forget hope… the day she turns eighteen.”

Krishna sighed. “It felt so far away then. Just words we could pretend to forget.”

“But today…” Eve’s hand found his. “She’s eighteen. And leaving for her first train trip without us.”

He squeezed her fingers, voice low.

“You were never just a choice, you know. You were the reason I defied destiny.”

As if on cue, the door creaked open.

“Appa? Amma?”

Janaki stood there, a vision of joy and energy. Wavy hair bouncing, backpack slung over one shoulder, excitement radiating from her like sunlight.

“I’m gonna miss the train if I wait for you two to stop being mushy.”

Krishna sat up, reaching out. “One second, superstar.”

She came over, instantly folding into his arms.

“You sure you packed snacks?” he asked, kissing the top of her head. “Charged your phone? Remembered the name of the station?”

“Appa,” she groaned, laughing. “I’m not five.”

“You’ll always be five to me.”

She grinned, then pulled back slightly to look at both of them. “I love you guys. I mean it.”

“We love you too,” Eve said, hugging her tightly. “Be safe. Stick with Deekshith and Aaryan.

“Ugh. Deekshith’s scared of pigeons and Aaryan still thinks history is boring. What could go wrong?”

Krishna smirked. “Everything. That’s why you’re the smart one.”

Janaki rolled her eyes dramatically, then dashed out with a shouted, “Bye!”

The door clicked shut. Silence returned.

Krishna leaned back on the bed, his hand still resting where Janaki had stood moments ago.

“She’s all grown up,” he murmured. “Feels like yesterday she couldn’t say her own name.”

Eve looked at him, eyes glassy with the softness only years can bring.

“You know,” she whispered, “there was nothing magical about how we began. But somehow… everything about you made me believe in magic again.”

He reached over, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Some people come into your life like seasons,” he said quietly, “but you… you stayed like the sky.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

Until… the wind outside suddenly shifted.

The sky, once gentle and grey, now churned with bruised clouds. A low rumble shook the house—not loud, but deep, like the world itself was groaning.

Krishna’s smile faded. He looked toward the window.

Eve’s breath caught. Her hand clutched his arm.

She turned slowly to him, eyes wide with a fear she hadn’t felt in nearly two decades.

"The prophecy,” she whispered.

Her voice trembled.

“…it’s coming true.”