Pratham

When I wake up the next morning, I feel my body aching slightly from the awkward position I had slept in. Half on the floor, half leaning against the bed, it wasn't the most comfortable position to sleep in.

I stretch my stiff neck, feeling the tension in my muscles ease slightly as I continue stretching for a bit.

But then, the ache fades into the background when I gaze at Nitya sleeping on the bed. Her hair slightly tousled against the pillow, her lips parted in a soft, steady rhythm as she breathes—she looks beautiful. Well, more than beautiful, really. It's the kind of beauty that races my heart, especially in these quiet moments when I can just.... watch her.

As I continue watching, she stirs slightly, her brow furrowing for a moment before her eyes flutters open. She blinks a few times, her gaze slowly focusing on me. And then, she smiles.

The kind of smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"Good morning," she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep.

"How did you sleep?"

"Mm, I slept okay." She closes her eyes again, still half in the haze of sleep.

But then, after a second, her eyes suddenly snap open and she looks more alert. She looks at me, seeing the position I was in for the first time.

As realization dawns on her, her expression shifts from drowsy contentment to shock. "Prathamji," she gasps, sitting up on the bed. "Did you sleep like this?"

"Umm, yes." I scratch the back of my head, feeling a little sheepish.

Her eyes widen, and she looks at me with concern marring her face. "Why didn't you sleep on the couch?"

"I couldn't sleep. You were here and I wanted to hold you. So, I knelt on the floor and held your hand. It helped me fall asleep."

Nitya's face softens and she reaches out to hold my hand, bringing it over her lap. "You slept like this the whole night, just so you could hold my hand?"

I nod, feeling a strange ache in my chest as I gaze deeply into her eyes. "You were in the same room, and I... I just didn't want to be apart from you. I know you need space, and I respect that, but I needed to feel close to you, even if it was just holding your hand. I know I'm just babbling and you might not understand what I'm trying to say—"

"I understand," she interrupts, her gaze never leaving mine.

There is a pause, and for a moment, we just sit, looking at each other.

With my free hand, I reach out and gently brush my fingers through her hair. "Thank you for letting me stay with you."

"You don't need to thank me. I wanted you to stay," she says. "But you should have slept on the couch. Your body must be stiff and aching."

"I'm fine, really," I say, letting her pull me to my feet.

My muscles are a bit stiff, so I lowly groan as I sit on the bed, but Nitya starts fretting when she hears me, her brows knitting in concern as she places a hand on my arm.

"Do you need a massage for the ache, Prathamji?"

A massage?

"Ahhh," I groan loudly this time, exaggerating the stiffness in my movements. "You know," I say, trying to sound as pitiful as possible. "After moving from that position, I realize my backache is worse, and I feel sore all over." I pretend to wince as if every muscle in my body is protesting.

Her eyes widen in concern. "I'll get the oil. Just stay here."

She climbs down from the bed without waiting for me to respond. As I watch her rushing out of the room, I stifle the grin threatening to spread across my face.

My back is a little sore, sure, but it isn't nearly as bad as I'm making out to be.

Seeing Nitya fretting over me, I just couldn't resist. And if massage can keep my wife close to me for a little longer, I'm more than happy to play the part of a suffering husband.

*****

Nitya

As I make my way out of the bedroom to get oil for the massage, I can't help but feel bad for the condition Prathamji is in. I can't believe he slept like that just to hold my hand.

But then, I smile a bit, as I raise my hand to my face, feeling my insides warm due to the way he admitted about him wanting to be close to me.

"Bhabhi."

I halt as I hear Dhritiji call me, and when I look up, I see her, Namanji, Shrutiji, and Yash bhaiyya sitting in the living room.

"Finally," Dhritiji chirps, her face lighting up. "We had been waiting for you and Pratham bhaiyya."

"When did you arrive?" I ask, as I step inside the living room and greet all of them.

"I arrived at Naman bhaiyya's apartment about an hour back, and I kept nagging him until he gave up and brought me here," Dhritiji replies.

"We didn't want to disturb you so early in the morning, but Dhriti didn't relent." Shrutiji smiles apologetically.

"No, no. That's fine. I'm happy to see you all," I smile back at her.

"Same can't be said for everyone," Dhritiji grumbles, and I frown as I notice her glaring at Yash bhaiyya.

"Not everyone wakes up at 6 am in the morning," Bhaiyya mutters, and I understand why he looks so miffed. After all, he has never been a morning person.

"That's exactly why I didn't want to bring you here so early." Namanji sighs. "I knew Nitya would not have a problem, but I also knew Yash would have a big problem."

"I couldn't delay meeting Bhabhi just because someone is too lazy to wake up early," Dhritiji counters. "I had been worried for her since she left three days back."

I see Yash bhaiyya about to retort, but before he can, Shrutiji starts speaking. "You look tensed, Nitya. Is everything alright?"

"Prathamji's back is aching," I reply. "He also says he is feeling sore all over from last night."

I frown when, suddenly, silence ensues in the room for a few seconds before everyone's expressions shift—Dhritiji's and Shrutiji's eyes widen in amusement, Yash bhaiyya suddenly seem to find the floor very interesting, and Namanji averts his gaze, looking everywhere but at me.

"Pratham bhaiyya is sore from the last night?" Dhritji asks, looking as if she is trying very hard not to laugh out loud.

I blink, unable to understand the sudden shift in their demeanor. "Yes. Well, last night, when he—"

"That's enough." Yash bhaiyya clears his throat awkwardly.

"Yes, that's definitely enough," Dhritiji agrees, her voice teasing. "We don't need to know all the details."

Finally, when it hits me what they all are thinking, I feel like my face is on fire. "No. I didn't mean.... it's not like that!" I stammer, my voice loud. "Last night, he didn't sleep—"

"Please, Nitya, spare us the details," Shrutiji says, chuckling. "We really don't want to know what you and Pratham were doing last night that he didn't sleep at all."

I feel my face burning even more. "It's really not what you think," I insist, my voice almost pleading now.

Yash bhaiyya, still looking flustered, mutters something under his breath and stands up, obviously uncomfortable with the entire conversation. "I'm just going to.... get some fresh air," he mumbles, practically bolting from the apartment.

Namanji also stands up. "I'll, uh, I'll help him in.... getting fresh air," he says, quickly following bhaiyya.

Once they leave, Dhritiji gives me a knowing look. "Is Bhaiyya feeling too sore, Bhabhi?"

As soon as she asks that, she and Shrutiji laugh out loud, and I groan, covering my face with my hands, wishing I could disappear. "Oh God, please!"

"Did you also say that to Pratham last night?" Shrutiji says, both of them doubling down in laughter.

I peek at them from between my fingers. "We didn't.... I mean, nothing happened."

When they don't stop laughing, I shake my head and sigh loudly. "I need to get the oil from the kitchen."

"Oh, what are you two planning to do with the oil?" Dhritiji asks, tears sliding down her face due to her laughing so hard.

Too embarrassed to say anything, I rush to the kitchen, pull out the bottle of oil from there, and rush to the room, not stopping even when they call me, still laughing as they continue to tease me.

My whole body warms when I catch Dhritiji's words right before I enter the room. "Don't get too carried away in there. We'll be waiting for you two for breakfast."