Nitya

Prathamji and I both stand rooted in the doorway, eyes wide, neither of us able to move or even breathe.

I wasn't even able to process what I was seeing right now.

Dhritiji's back pressed against the wall as Yash bhaiyya kissed her. His hands were buried in her hair, and her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as if they couldn't get close enough. They were so completely lost in each other that they hadn't even noticed us until now.

I feel Prathamji's hand stiffening in mine, and when I glance at him, I notice he was still staring at them, just as shocked as I am. After a moment though, his grip on my hand tightens, and before I can stop him, he explodes.

"What the hell is going on here?" His voice booms through the living room, breaking the heated moment between Bhaiyya and Dhritiji.

They quickly jolt apart, eyes wife with shock and embarrassment when they finally realize of our presence in the apartment.

Dhritiji flushes, her face a deep crimson, while Bhaiyya looks like a deer caught in headlights. But even in his shock, I could see he didn't look sorry—not one bit.

"Is this why you brought coffee for me earlier?" Prathamji continues, his voice dripping with anger and eyes glaring at Bhaiyya. "Buttering me up so I would let you make out with my sister?!"

"Was a cup of coffee not enough? Do you also want muffins? Cupcakes, perhaps?" Bhaiyya counters without missing a beat.

I gasp, shocked at Bhaiyya's nonchalance and also scared for him because Prathamji looked serious.

"Don't you dare get smart with me, Yash," he snaps. "How the hell could you do that?"

Bhaiyya crosses his arms over his chest, trying to keep calm despite the tension thickening in the air. "It's easy, really. In kissing, we lean to each other first. And then, when the lips touch—"

"Shut up!" Prathamji cuts Bhaiyya off. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Before Bhaiyya can respond, Prathamji turns to Dhritiji. "What the hell were you doing here with him?"

Dhritiji clenches and unclenches her fingers, looking slightly nervous. "Umm, Bhaiyya, you saw what we were doing. So, umm, is that a rhetorical question?"

Prathamji's throws his hands up in the air, seeming livid, pacing back and forth as if trying to gather his thoughts.

"How long has this been going on?" He darts his gaze between Dhritiji and Yash.

"It's been some time," Bhaiyya replies. "Look, I know this came as a shock to you, and we didn't want you or anyone else in the family to find out like this. I was going to tell—"

"This is why you apologized to me, didn't you?" Prathamji shakes his head. "For a moment, I really thought you were being genuine, but I was sorely mistaken. You did everything just to seduce my sister."

"It's not just seduction, Pratham," Bhaiyya says, getting serious now. "I care deeply for Dhriti and she cares for me too. We have feelings for—"

"Shut it, Yash," Prathamji interrupts, rubbing his hands over his face. "I can't believe you and my sister...." He trails off.

"What about you and my sister then?" Bhaiyya counters. "I even let Nitya stay with you in your house."

"Nitya is my wife!" Prathamji shouts.

"So? She is my sister too. And I let her stay with you together in one room."

"Again. Nitya is my wife," Prathamji repeats. "What the hell are you getting at?"

"I trusted you with my sister," Bhaiyya says. "So, you can also try and—"

"No. There won't be any trying. This is not going to continue anymore." Prathamji glares at Bhaiyya and Dhritiji.

"You can't decide for us, Pratham. Dhriti and I are adults, and we know what's right for us."

Pin drop silence ensues following Bhaiyya's words, the air crackling with tension and the room feeling like it's about to explode.

When I gaze at Prathamji, I realize he is just seconds away from losing his temper entirely. He is clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, his jaw tight. It makes me realize that if I don't intervene soon, this will escalate beyond control.

"We all need to cool down first," I finally say, stepping between them. Both of them turn to look at me, startled by my interruption. "Let's get out of here for a bit, Prathamji."

Prathamji frowns at me. "Leave? But why? I need to—"

"Please?" I request in a soft voice, placing my hand on his arm. "We can discuss this later after taking some time to cool off."

Prathamji hesitates, his eyes flickering from me to Bhaiyya to Dhritiji, and back again. After a few seconds, he lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fine," he mutters, though his face was still marred with anger. "But this isn't over," he adds, looking at Dhritiji and Bhaiyya.

Without waiting for anything more to be said by any of them, I gently tug on Prathamji's arm, leading him toward the door.

I take a deep breath after we step out of the apartment, relieved to be out of there before things got out of hand.

"Thank you for listening to me." I give him a small smile.

But he doesn't smile back. Only rubs his temples and sighs out loud. "What are we supposed to do about this? Dhriti and Yash?" He shakes his head, clearly still grappling with the situation.

"We'll figure it out," I tell him. "For now, let's just breathe and take a moment. Okay?"

He nods and mutters, "Okay."

*****

Prathamji is fuming when we enter our room in our apartment.

"How the hell can Naman bhaiyya and Shruti bhabhi be fine with Dhriti and Yash being together?" His voice is tight with annoyance as he paces in the room.

I watch him silently for a moment, taking in his stiff posture and furrowed brows. I can sense him about to say something, but before he can get another word out, I step closer to him and cut him off with a sudden kiss.

I press my lips firmly against his, catching him off guard. His hands instinctively find my waist, but I can feel the tension still radiating from him. Deepening the kiss, I let my hands trail up the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer to me.

Letting my lips linger on his, I run my hands up and down his back, smiling slightly when his breath quickens and his grip tightens on my waist. He kisses me back with more intensity and I feel his frustration slowly melting away.

When I finally pull back, our breathing is ragged.

"Why?" He asks, his eyes searching mine and his voice a bit breathless.

I lean my forehead against his. "Because you were worrying too much, and I wanted to calm you down," I reply, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Did it work?"

"It did... a bit," he admits, his lips curving into a faint smile. "But I'm still worried."

I sigh softly, nodding in understanding. "I understand your concern, Prathamji." I look up at him, my voice turning serious. "But you know what kind of person Yash bhaiyya is, don't you? You know he won't ever hurt Dhritiji."

"I admit he's not a bad guy," Prathamji says, inhaling deeply and blowing out the air. "But he's so annoying and he always gets under my skin."

Softly chuckling, I place my head over his chest and loosely wrap my arms around his waist. "I know you both like annoying each other," I tell him. "But I also know my brother. If he says he cares deeply for Dhritiji, he means it."

Prathamji also brings his hands around my waist and tightly hugs me. "Maybe he does," he says quietly. "But I'll need some time to think about it."

I nod, snuggling into him. "Take some time to process it all," I say against his chest.

Continuing to hold me, when he kisses the top of my head, I try to smile, but I find that I can't, and it's because a sudden fear seizes me. I don't know how it creeped up in me, but it did, and I find myself getting sucked by it.

Prathamji must also have sensed it by the way my body stiffened, which is why he tries to pull back to look at me. But I keep my grip firm over him.

"Keep holding me, please," I say, slightly relaxing when he obliges.

I take a couple of deep breaths, hoping to soothe my nerves, but doing that doesn't help at all.

Why do I feel this way? Is something about to happen?

"What's the matter, Nitya? Tell me."

"It's nothing," I lie because I too have no idea why I feel this way. "I just felt so cold suddenly."

Prathamji's runs his hand up and down my back and arms as if trying to ward away the cold. "It's okay. I'm here. You don't need to worry about anything."

Despite my nervousness, his words make me smile. But it falters the very next second. I don't know why but I feel like a big storm is about to enter our lives. The kind of storm that will bring only destruction with it, leaving only tears and devastation in its wake.