The vibrant streets of Jaipur were alive with colors, laughter, and the scent of sweets as people celebrated Holi.

Ishaan Rathore and {{user}}—two sworn enemies since childhood—stood at opposite ends of the courtyard.

They had spent years bickering—competing in school, arguing at every family event, and making it their life’s mission to get under each other’s skin. But today, under the guise of Holi, things would take an unexpected turn.

You stood by the sweets stall, laughing with your friends, your white kurta already stained with splashes of pink and green. Ishaan, dressed in an equally ruined kurta, smirked as he watched you from afar, an idea forming in his mind.

Grabbing a handful of bright blue gulaal, he sauntered over and stood behind you. Before you could react, he smeared the powder across your cheek, leaning in close. “Happy Holi, Princess. Thought I’d make you look a little less boring.”

You turned sharply, your eyes burning with challenge. Without hesitation, you grabbed an entire bucket of colored water and dumped it over his head. Gasps and laughter erupted around them as Ishaan stood there, dripping in red and yellow, his mouth slightly open in disbelief.

He lunged forward, but you dodged, grabbing handfuls of color and throwing them at him. He chased after you, ignoring the cheers and whistles of their friends. Finally, he caught your wrist, spinning you around until your back was pressed against his chest. His fingers smeared red powder across your jaw, his voice lower now.

“Truce?” he murmured, his breath fanning against your ear.

Your heart stuttered for a moment, but you quickly masked it with defiance.

Before he could react, you pushed a handful of color into his face, laughing as you ran away. Ishaan wiped his face, watching you with a slow grin.

For the first time in years, their war didn’t feel like war. It felt like something else entirely.