The café noise sat around them in layers—cups clinking, chairs scraping, someone laughing too loudly near the counter.
Aanya had already made herself comfortable like she had decided this place was temporary and therefore irrelevant.
Sagnik sat opposite her, watching her more than anything else.
Not obviously.
Just enough that it would look like he was waiting for his coffee.
Aanya broke the silence first.
"You're still thinking."
"I'm not."
"That's also thinking."
He looked at her.
She had her elbow on the table again, chin slightly tilted, eyes half-lazy in that way she got when she had nothing urgent to do.
"Do you always assume people are thinking?"
"No," she said. "I assume you are thinking."
"That sounds unfairly specific."
"It is."
A pause.
Then she added, casually:
"You think too much when things are normal."
"I think normally."
"That's your problem."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
The waiter brought their order.
Aanya immediately took a sip, then leaned back with a satisfied expression like she had just confirmed something about life itself.
"This is acceptable."
"That's high praise."
"It's rare praise."
Sagnik stirred his coffee once, not drinking yet.
Aanya watched him for a second.
Then, without warning:
"Rematch."
He looked up slightly.
"Of what?"
Her expression shifted instantly—interest returning like she had just remembered something entertaining.
"Ludo."
That was said so simply it didn't even sound like an announcement.
More like continuation.
Sagnik paused.
"You're still on that."
"I never left it."
"You won once."
"I won most times."
"That's not accurate."
"It's emotionally accurate."
He exhaled.
"Ohh, who would think you are a 2nd year MBBS student? You and your obsession with Ludo"
Aanya pointed at him with her straw wrapper.
"Why are you scared, I would beat you multiple times today also??
A beat of silence passed.
And what she said must have done its work, becuase now he had taken her comment to his heart
Then Sagnik asked, more casually than intended:
"What's the stake this time?"
Aanya didn't even hesitate.
"Loser buys dinner."
That landed cleanly between them.
No buildup.
No drama.
Just a decision forming in real time.
Sagnik tilted his head slightly.
"You're very sure you'll win again."
"I am."
"Why?"
Aanya shrugged.
"Because I usually do."
"That's not logic."
"It's history."
He looked at her for a moment longer than necessary.
Then said:
"Fine."
Aanya's expression sharpened immediately.
"Done?"
"Done."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Good."
A pause.
Then, lighter again:
"I'm already deciding what I'm ordering."
"You haven't won yet."
"I don't need to."
"That's arrogance."
"That's preparation."
Sagnik finally took a sip of his coffee.
Then, almost under his breath:
"You're impossible."
Aanya smiled into her drink.
"I know."
The conversation drifted again for a few minutes—messy, light, unimportant things filling the space between decisions.
Until Aanya checked her phone once, then stood up like the matter had already been resolved.
"Come on."
"Now?"
"You agreed."
"We're still in the café."
"And?"
"And I'm drinking coffee."
"And you can continue that at your place.
That paused him for half a second.
Aanya already had her bag on her shoulder.
"Unless you're thinking of backing off."
That did it—not the challenge, but the timing of it.
Sagnik stood.
Not rushed.
Just final.
"I'm not scared."
Aanya grinned.
"Good."
Then, turning slightly as she walked ahead:
"Try not to lose too badly, Mister."
And just like that, they left the café with the bet already living somewhere between them—unspoken again, but very real.