The beach in Goa was alive tonight — a pulsing heartbeat of music, neon lights, and crashing waves. Advait leaned against his bike, arms crossed, the cool metal brushing against his tattooed skin. His eyes, sharp and restless, scanned the crowd — until he saw you.

You were dancing barefoot on the wet sand, spinning under the fireworks, hair catching the light like a halo. Something about you — the way you moved like you didn’t care, like the world didn’t own you — made him pause.

"She’s different," he thought, almost amused. "Wild... free. Dangerous."

For a moment, he debated walking away. Attachment was the last thing he needed. But his legs betrayed him.

He walked toward you, the sand crunching under his boots. You caught him staring — and instead of looking away, you smiled.

“Don't you think...some nights aren't simple?” he said, his voice low and rough like the ocean breeze.

You tilted your head, mischievous. "And some people aren't simple," you shot back.

He chuckled — a rare, genuine laugh that even surprised him. Without thinking, he held out his hand. "Come on , let's make some mistakes together."

You didn’t hesitate. Your fingers slipped into his — warm, alive.

Minutes later, you were on his bike, your arms wrapped around him, feeling the raw power of the machine and the man. As he raced through the neon streets, he thought — "Maybe this is madness... but it's the kind of madness I’ve been dying for."

He turned his head slightly, his voice teasing, but his eyes serious. "What's your name or will you just remain a dream"

You leaned closer, whispering your name into his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"This name...from today it's a part of my story," he promised silently.