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"When people are truly open and intimate with each other art happens. Intimacy as art. Disarming fragility as art. The dialogue of hearts as art................."

The clock struck seven in the evening as Vatsal finally made his way back home, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the day's challenges. The apartment was quiet when he entered, save for the faint hum of some song plaing in the outer room.

Kyon urdu farshi bolte hoooooooo
Dus kehte ho do taulte ho
Jhoton ke shanshaaa bolo na
Kabhi jhaako meri ankhen
Kabhi jhaako meri ankhen
Sunaaye ek dastaan
Jo hooton se kholona
Aye hairathe ashiqui
Jaga mat pairon se zameen
Zameen laga mat...

Shubhita, who had been waiting eagerly for his return, opened the door with a bright smile on her face. "Welcome home," she said warmly.

He managed a weak smile in return. "Hey." He dropped his bag by the door and made his way to the chair, sinking into it with a tired sigh.

Her expression quickly turned to one of concern. "You look exhausted. Bad day?"

"Yeah, just a headache," he admitted, rubbing his temples. "Work was rough."

Without another word, Shubhita disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. "Here, take this," she said, handing it to him.

Vatsal took the glass gratefully. "Thanks."

But she wasn't done. "You need a good head massage," she declared. "Get changed, and be back here soon."

"No!"

"What no? It should be yes. Yes?"

"Yes!"

"Good! Sit up straight. I'll get some oil." Before he could protest, she was gone again, reappearing moments later with a small bottle of oil when he too changed his clothes.

She poured a bit into her hands, warming it up. "Now, just relax," she instructed, standing in front of him.

He sighed, giving in. He watched her as she began to apply the oil to his scalp, her fingers working their magic. Her touch was gentle yet firm, and almost immediately, he felt some of the tension start to melt away.

As she continued, Vatsal couldn't help but notice the way her peach coloured kurti was hugging her body, accentuating her curves. She was standing close, her neck and the upper part of her body directly in his line of sight. He suddenly felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with the massage.

Trying to distract himself, he decided to tease her, looking away, "You know, you're pretty bossy for someone who's supposed to be helping me relax."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, hush. You love it."

"Do I now?" he replied with a grin. "Maybe I just tolerate it."

She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Keep telling yourself that, Mr. Forgetful."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" he said, referring to their morning banter.

"Never," she said, shaking her head. "Besides, you need me to keep you on your toes."

Vatsal closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. "I guess I do," he admitted softly.

"See? You're finally admitting it," she teased, her fingers working through his hair.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "You're like a nagging mother hen."

"And you're like a stubborn chick," she shot back, laughing.

He opened his eyes again, catching another glimpse of her neckline and the elegant fitting of her kurti. Feeling guilty for his wandering thoughts, he quickly closed his eyes.

As she massaged his head, her eyes fell on his face, his closed eyes. In this proximity, she could see every detail. His features were striking: high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a hint of stubble that added a rugged charm. His thick, dark hair felt soft under her fingers, and his closed eyes gave him a serene, almost vulnerable look.

"Shubhi, you're a one lucky girl. Your husband is so handsome", she thought, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "Focus, Shubhi, focus on the massage."

Her eyes travelled down to his lips, which were slightly parted. They were well-shaped and of course inviting, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She quickly looked away, embarrassed by her own thoughts.

"Great, now I'm the one getting distracted", she chided herself. "Just keep massaging, nothing to see here and there. He is just Vatsal, Mr Lame Joker, not a masterpiece."

Vatsal, still with his eyes closed, said, "This now feels nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, her voice softer now. "I'm glad I could help. You do so much for us. It's the least I can do."

He knew she was being sarcastic. So he chose to remain silent on that. Instead he said quietly. "Your first day sounded incredible."

She beamed, her hands still massaging his scalp. "It was. I couldn't have asked for a better start. The students, the staff... everything was just perfect."

"That's good!," he said, opening his eyes to look at her.

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Vatsal felt a rush of affection for her, mixed with a deep sense of gratitude. She had uprooted her life to support him, and here she was, still giving so much of herself.

"What?" She questioned noticing his gaze constantly locking with hers.

"Nothing," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

They stayed like that for a while, the room filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of Shubhita's hands working through his hair. It was a moment of connection, of shared intimacy that spoke volumes about their relationship.

Finally, she stepped back, her hands slick with oil. "Feeling better?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.

"Much better," he said, smiling. "You're a miracle worker."

She laughed. "Just doing my job."

He reached out and took her hand, pulling her down to sit beside him. "You know, if any day you get fed up with your teaching job, do look out for opportunities Head Massage Parlour."

She leaned her head on his shoulder in a dramatic way, mischief evident in her eyes. "Done! But only if my dear husband comes there daily."

He couldn't help but laugh at that. Their chemistry over crazy stuff and talks was next level.

They sat there, side by side, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other's presence. It was in moments like these that they found strength and solace, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

_

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_

Dinner was a quiet, pleasant affair, filled with comfortable conversation and shared smiles. Afterward, Shubhita took it upon herself to tackle the dishes, while Vatsal lingered in the doorway, watching her with a thoughtful expression.

She was humming softly as she worked, her kurti half-wet from the splashes of water. Her hair, tied up in a messy bun, looked endearingly dishevelled. Vatsal couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"She's a mad scientist when she dives into the dishes." he thought, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He had recently discovered her love for sweets and had decided that tonight was the perfect night to indulge her a little.

Stepping into the kitchen, he cleared his throat. "Listen, Shubhita, want to go out for a walk?"

She looked up, surprised. "Now? It's 9:30, Vatsal. And look at me. I'm a mess!" She gestured to her wet kurti and messy bun.

"You look fine," he insisted, grinning softly. "Come on. Don't think too much about it."

She still seemed unconvinced. "But my hair is a disaster, and I'm all wet. What if we run into someone we know?"

Vatsal rolled his eyes affectionately. "As if you're a District Magistrate that they will make it a breaking news- Ms Shubhita was found in a messy state. What exactly happened to her, the nation wants to know... Just come with me. Please?"

She resumed rinsing the utensils, her voice raised slightly over the sound of the running tap. "But Vatsal, I mean, I'm really not dressed for going out, and what if-"

He tried to interrupt, but she kept going, her words spilling out in a torrent. He sighed, knowing he'd have to take a more direct approach.

"Alright, desperate times call for desperate measures", he thought, moving closer. He positioned himself right behind her, effectively caging her in between him and the kitchen sink.

Shubhita went quiet, her eyes widening as she realized how close he was. He reached past her and turned off the tap, the sudden silence almost deafening.

She was about to turn when he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "I'm sure you're going to make me deaf one day, Ms. Constant Blabber," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Now, spare my ears and these utensils, and come along."

Her skin prickled with goosebumps at his proximity. She felt a shiver run down her spine as his breath caressed her neck. His words left her momentarily speechless, her mind scrambling to process the sudden intimacy.

"Why does he have to get so close?", she thought, trying to steady her breathing. "Focus, Shubhi! He's just being playful... but why does it feel so intense?"

Before she could think of a witty comeback, Vatsal's hand moved to her hair. He gently pulled out the bun stick, letting her hair tumble down her back in a cascade of waves. She gasped softly, surprised by his action. A blush crept up her cheeks, spreading warmth across her face.

Vatsal smirked, enjoying her reaction. "Why is she always in teacher mode? Just once, let those locks loose at assembly, and watch chaos become the punishment!", he thought, his eyes lingering on her soft curls.

"See? Now you're perfect," he said, stepping back slightly but still keeping close.

Shubhita felt her heart pounding in her chest. "Why does he have to be so infuriatingly charming?", she wondered, trying to compose herself. "Mr Stubborn Head, you're impossible," she said, her voice softer than she intended.

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Come on, Ms Pricey. It's a beautiful night, and I know just the thing to make it even better."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

"It's a surprise," he said mysteriously. "Trust me, you'll love it."

She sighed, finally giving in. "Fine, let me finish up here and change into something dry."

"No need," Vatsal said, taking her hand. "You're perfect as you are, Ms Perfectionist."

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "How does he always manage to convince me?", she thought, feeling a mix of exasperation and fondness.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air enveloped them. Vatsal led her down the quiet street. They walked in comfortable silence, the night filled with the distant sounds of crickets and the rustle of leaves.

After a few minutes, they reached a small ice cream parlour. Shubhita's eyes lit up with delight as she realized where he had brought her. "Are you serious!" she exclaimed, her face breaking into a wide smile.

"Of course I am," he said, grinning. "What better way to celebrate your first day than with your favourite treat?"

"I'm impressed." She smiled nudging him. He shook his head chuckling.

They ordered their ice creams, and Vatsal watched with amusement as Shubhita savoured every bite, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

As they walked back home, their conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and shared memories. For a moment, Vatsal forgot about the stress and challenges of his work. All that mattered was the present moment, the joy in Shubhita's eyes, and the warmth of her hand in his.

Back at home, Shubhita's happiness was infectious, and Vatsal felt his own spirits lift as they shared stories.

"Maybe things aren't so bad after all," he thought, feeling a renewed sense of hope. "With this crazy woman by my side, I can never have a dull moment atleast."

And as the night wore on, they both realized that the best moments in life are often the simplest ones, shared with the people who matter most.

_

_

_

Later that night, Vatsal was sitting on the mattress, busy going through some last-minute editorials. Beside him, Shubhita lay scrolling through her phone.

As time passed, Vatsal finally finished his work and let out a contented sigh. His eyes fell on Shubhita, who had drifted off to sleep. Her phone still played a video, and her Bluetooth earphones were snug in her ears.

A smile slipped automatically onto Vatsal's lips. He shifted a little closer to her, drawn by the serene sight of her at peace. Her breathing was slow and calm, each rise and fall of her chest soothing to his frayed nerves. For a moment, he felt an overwhelming desire to hold her close, to let every tension from his mind dissolve in her presence.

"She being this calm and quiet is such a fleeting luxury," he thought and chucked to himself, his eyes tracing her features.

He let his gaze travel over her features, taking in every detail. Her soft, expressive brows were relaxed in sleep, a stark contrast to the way they furrowed in concentration when she was awake. Her long lashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks, which were slightly flushed from the warmth of the room, and her lips...

He stopped at her lips, slightly parted as she breathed. They were soft and inviting, the kind of lips that seemed to promise a million unspoken words and tender kisses. His heart ached with a longing he hadn't fully acknowledged until now.

"She's a walking, talking, sleeping 'trap card'-be careful or you'll end up learning something!", he mused, feeling a warmth spread through him.

The urge to lean in, to feel their softness against his own, was almost overpowering. He shook his head slightly, trying to focus.

Vatsal gently reached over and removed her earphones, careful not to wake her. He picked up her phone and glanced at the screen. "Korean drama," he noted with mild amusement. "What does she see in these beardless guys?" he wondered, chuckling softly.

He put her phone aside and watched her for a moment longer, his mind drifting. "I wonder what she's dreaming about," he thought, feeling a strange mix of protectiveness and affection. He wanted to stay by her side, to be the one who made her feel safe and happy.

With one last glance at her serene face, Vatsal lay down beside her, feeling more at ease than he had all day. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. As he settled beside her, he whispered softly, "Goodnight, Shubhita," and closed his eyes, letting the comfort of her presence lull him into a peaceful sleep.