The house has rules, but nobody remembers making them.
Muse : Yashaswi and Yashvi
They meet in the same room every time. What started as convenience and now turned into tradition. They always say they will go somewhere else next time, but they don’t. They end up wearing the same lobster stripes the way other people carry emergency numbers. But that’s how you show the true bond.
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They decided it was called the Lobster House because once, years ago, someone said you’re my lobster and it sounded important enough to build a life around. It stuck. Now it’s just what they call this room, this sofa, this corner of the day where nothing ever really goes wrong.
Somewhere between afternoon and evening, the room always becomes a little chaotic. They only move things enough to make space for themselves.
This room already knew what kind of day it wanted to be.
Popcorn for their favourite vintage movie. Vitamins taken seriously, only because they go with orange juice. Somewhere between side A and side B, a vinyl starts playing and The Less I Know The Better somehow fixes the mood, like it always does.
There is tea too. There is always tea to discuss over a call. And sometimes it lands where it shouldn’t, and they leave it there for a while, like it’s part of the story.
The red phone weighed more than the truth she was about to tell, and the cord kept pulling her back every time she tried to pace. Cards slipped out and fluttered around her like tiny witnesses. None of them were important on their own. Together, they explained everything.
She talked for a very long time. Longer than planned. Longer than anyone on the other end was ready for.
By the time she reached the part where it all finally made sense, she had laid every detail out on the invisible table in front of her. Who said what. Who meant what. Who pretended not to care but clearly did.
So, The tea had been spilled. The cards were everywhere.
This is when the tea finally gets poured.
They go over everything again, slower this time. What was said in the morning. What should have been said. What will definitely be brought up the next time someone calls. The room holds onto every detail like it’s filing a report.
Wait, did they end the evening here?
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