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आंखों की गुस्ताखियां माफ हो
एक टुक तुमको देखती हैं
जो बात कहना चाहे ज़ुबां
तुमसे वो यह कहती हैं

आंखों की शर्मो-हया माफ हो
तुम्हें देख के झुकती हैं
उठी आंखें जो बात न कह सकीं
झुकी आंखें वो कहती हैं

When we reached the room, I opened the door slowly, and as we both stepped inside, I suddenly realized-my room has only one bed with no extra furniture.

I hesitated, my eyes darting toward Sidharth ji. He stood just behind me, his posture relaxed yet commanding, his presence looming like a powerful wave. He glanced around the room briefly, his eyes flickering to the bed for a moment before returning to me. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine.

There was no judgment in his expression, just that same composed calmness that made him feel both safe and dangerously alluring.

The storm outside raged on, loud and unforgiving, but the storm inside me was worse. My eyes landed on the bed, the only one in the room, and a tight feeling gripped my chest. One bed. Just one.

And we both had to share it tonight.

I swallowed hard, feeling my heartbeat quicken. My eyes darted around, searching for something-anything-like hoping to find another bed to magically appear.

Or another option?

But of course, there was nothing. Biting my lip, I stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. Should I just take the bed like he did last night? Maybe I should be decent, make him feel more comfortable than he made me feel?

I let out a huff, and when I turned around, my breath caught in my throat. He was right behind me, his dark eyes steady on me, calm and unreadable. My body stiffened under his gaze, and I quickly looked away. My breath hitched, but it wasn't from anything good. His gaze only made me more nervous & awkward.

"Please sit," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll just come after changing."

Without waiting for a response, I hurried into the bathroom. My hands were trembling as I leaned against the door. It was awkward, so awkward. Last night had been bad enough. He'd ignored me, not even asking how I felt or if I was okay. He didn't show the slightest bit of care, but now here I was, trying to be decent, trying to be respectful.

We both were in the same situation just a day apart, but our actions in this situation are pole apart.

Without waiting for a response, I dashed into the bathroom. My heart pounded louder than before. That was so awkward. I was so tempted to return his favor from last night, but this won't look good.

Why should I be nice when he wasn't?

Because he's my husband, and I should respect him.

Even if he disrespected me in the same situation!

I huffed at my thoughts. They frustrate me somehow.

After what felt like the longest pep talk ever, I managed to calm myself. I changed into a baby pink kurti and matching pants. Before marriage, I used to sleep in my comfy pajamas, but now? I don't think it will look good just yet. The women in my village always wore sarees, even to bed. I wasn't against it, but at night? I needed something I could relax in because -

Let's just say I had my own reasons.

I glanced back just as I was about to leave the bathroom, and there it was-my Red cherry-shaped pillow, resting on a chair in the corner, its bright color faded a little, but somehow that made it feel more precious. It looked just as I'd left it on my wedding day, still drying from the last wash.

I couldn't help but smile as I clutched it to my chest, hugging it tightly. I know it must seem childish, but this pillow wasn't just any ordinary cushion. My obsession with it was on another level. It was a little silly, maybe, for a grown woman to be so attached, but this pillow held memories, comfort, a kind of familiar warmth.

When I was fourteen, my father brought it home for me. I still remember the way he handed it to me, showing a smile proudly tugging at his lips as he watched me hug it with so much excitement.

In my small world, it was a treasure, a mark of his love. None of the girls around me had anything like it, a gift from their father that they could keep close, let alone a soft, silly cherry-shaped pillow made just for cuddling.

And now, here I was, clutching it again in my new life. I held it close to my chest, feeling a sense of calm wash over me as I walked back into the room, determined to make this night as comfortable as possible-even if my husband, Sidharth ji, was sitting there, watching my every move with those calm, intense eyes that made my heart race.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the silence in the room felt heavier, more intimate than before. The storm outside rumbled softly now, a steady hum that only seemed to amplify the quiet between us. My gaze landed on him, and my pulse quickened as I realized he was still seated on the bed, waiting.

I stood there awkwardly, hugging my cherry-shaped pillow, shifting on my feet as I looked at him, unsure what to say next. My mind scrambled for something, anything, that might break the silence.

"Um... did you, uh, want to change?" I asked, immediately regretting it as my face flushed.

Sidharth ji's expression didn't change; he looked at me with that calm, unreadable gaze that made me feel like he could see through my every thought.

"No, I'm comfortable as I am," he replied, his voice low and steady.

His words should have been simple enough, but something about the way he said them made my face warm. Of course, he wouldn't want to change-what was I even thinking? I fumbled with the pillow, scratching lightly at its edge, almost wishing it could somehow hide me from the awkwardness.

It struck me that even if he'd wanted something to wear, I had no idea what I'd have offered him. My old, used clothes? Or maybe the new clothes my father had left for him, which, even then, probably wouldn't be up to his standards. I glanced at him, realizing just how out of place he looked here, like he was a prince who'd somehow wandered into the wrong story.

While I was lost in thought, he slowly rose from the bed, and my breath caught. I tried to look away, but I couldn't help noticing the way he tugged his shirt free from his trousers, his movements controlled and deliberate. He unbuckled his belt, and I bit my lip, feeling a strange mix of nerves and... something else entirely. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms, which looked strong and rough, like he was used to handling more than just pens, paper, or stethoscope.

The room felt smaller, his presence filling every corner of it. He looked back at me, his gaze calm yet somehow... intense.

"Do you prefer any side?" he asked, his tone gentle but deep with an edge of authority that left little room for argument.

My throat went dry as I hugged the cherry pillow tighter, suddenly aware of just how close we'd be sharing this bed.

"I'm... I'm okay with whatever," I mumbled, trying not to let my voice shake.

He nodded, his expression unreadable, and moved to one side, allowing me space. I slowly lay down, clutching my cherry pillow like a shield, trying not to think too much about the fact that he was right beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him even though we weren't touching.

Which I'm not sure for how long. Thanks to my sleeping style.

I turned on my side, curling up with my cherry pillow, finding some comfort in its familiar shape, hoping it might distract me from the awkwardness of the moment. It wasn't long, though, before my body started to relax against the mattress, and my eyelids grew heavy. I was so tired, and the warmth of the bed, along with the steady rhythm of wind from outside, was lulling me into a strange sense of calm.

As sleep began to pull me under, I unconsciously shifted closer, the cherry pillow pressing against something hard. I was vaguely aware of it, but the drowsiness was too strong, too comforting to fight.

Somewhere in the haze of sleep, I thought I felt him glance down, a slight shift as he settled more comfortably. But before I could think too much, I drifted off, my heart finally slowing as the night wrapped around us, leaving only the storm outside to keep us company.
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The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, softly illuminating the room. I blinked a few times, my eyelids heavy with sleep. For a moment, I was lost in that dreamy haze where reality blurred into the comfort of slumber. I stretched a little, my body instinctively reaching for my cherry pillow, but my fingers found nothing but cool sheets.

Confused, I slowly turned, and that's when I felt it-a warmth against my back, like a soft blanket wrapping around me. My heart raced. It was strange, as if something was clutching at my heart, squeezing it gently. I frowned, a little groggy. The sensation felt both comforting and alarming.

What was happening?

With a mix of curiosity and hesitation, I opened my eyes fully. That's when I realized-there was a hand resting on my bare waist from under my kurti.

My breath hitched as I turned slightly to see Sidharth ji behind me, his fingers nestled under my kurti, resting against my stomach. He was spooning me from behind, his face buried in my hair, breathing softly.

My eyes widen at the sight. The rough touch on my bare skin was making me feel tingling all over my body.

I could hardly breathe. His presence felt so overwhelming, so intimate. The heat radiating from his body was enough to send shivers down my spine. I blinked, trying to wrap my head around the scene before me.

How did we end up like this?

The cherry-shaped pillow lay forgotten on the floor, and I was tucked against him, feeling every steady beat of his heart.

Panic surged through me, a mix of shyness and disbelief. I was supposed to be sleeping next to my husband, not cuddled up against him like this! My cheeks flushed hot, and I felt like I might explode from embarrassment.

I shifted slightly, trying to create some distance, but he groaned softly, tightening his hold on me. My heart raced at the sound, and I couldn't help but steal a glance at his face. He looked so peaceful, his features relaxed and undeniably handsome, with stubble accentuating his jawline.

How was it possible that he could look so effortlessly attractive even while asleep?

I wondered, my mind racing with thoughts.

Were we cuddling all night? Cuddled up in bed, tangled in each other's bodies? My heart fluttered at the thought, even as my mind told me to pull away.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to wriggle free. Sidharth ji's arm slipped slightly, and I felt a rush of warmth course through me, but I didn't want to linger in this moment. I had to get up. I needed to breathe without feeling trapped in this wave of intimacy.

"Get up, Noor. Get up before he gets up & endes up looking more awkward than it already is." I told myself I needed space, even if my heart protested. As I pulled away, I could feel him stirring behind me, his presence both soothing and maddeningly overwhelming. I turned to face him fully, and in that split second, I felt a rush of shyness.

"So jaiye please," I whispered desperately, carefully removing his hand from my waist. His facial features again soothen as I moved away.

(Sleep, please)

As I slipped away from Sidharth ji's grasp, my heart raced, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum. I couldn't believe what had just happened. His hand had been on my bare stomach, his warmth enveloping me like a cocoon. The memory of his touch sent a wave of heat across my cheeks. I took a moment to steady myself, fighting the blush that threatened to overwhelm me.

Why did it feel so intimate? My heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and embarrassment. I stepped into the washroom, my pulse still racing, the sensation of his hand lingering like a ghost against my skin.

As I splashed cold water on my face, I tried to shake off the memories. But there he was, imprinted in my mind, his handsome face relaxed and peaceful as he slept, totally unaware of the chaos he had caused in my heart.

After I gathered my thoughts, I decided to dress. Today, I chose a beautiful green saree that flowed elegantly around me. The fabric felt smooth against my skin as I wrapped it, the vibrant color making me feel somewhat confident despite the earlier chaos.

The mirror reflected a shy girl with wide eyes, but I knew I had to be brave. I draped the pallu over my shoulder and secured it, feeling a little more like myself.

Once I was ready, I combed my damp hair, carefully drying it and arranging it into loose waves. I added delicate jewelry-a pair of simple earrings and a thin bracelet my father had given me.

As I glanced in the mirror, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. My instincts tingled, and I looked around the room, only to find Sidharth ji still sound asleep, his face toward me, but his eyes gently shut.

I turned back to my reflection, trying to focus on the task at hand, but the feeling of being observed lingered like a shadow. I picked my vermillion box & took a small pinch of it. Putting it on my forehead, I closed my eyes before opening it again & admiring it.

A moment later, I looked back at him. This time, I noticed the way the morning light kissed his features, making him appear even more striking. How was it possible for him to look so captivating while completely unaware of everything?

I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts swirling in my mind. I finished getting ready, adding a touch of kohl to my eyes and a hint of gloss to my lips. It was just Sidharth Ji; there was no reason to feel this way. Still, as I reached for the door, I hesitated, glancing back at him one last time. Should I wake him?

He looked so peaceful, and a part of me wanted to let him rest. Perhaps he wasn't comfortable with sharing a bed, especially when it was not as expensive & comfortable as his bed looks like. I bit my lip, torn between waking him and allowing him to sleep a little longer.

"Choro bhai," I whispered to myself, deciding against it. "Let him sleep. He must be tired."

With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement. As I descended the stairs, I couldn't shake the memories of the night before, nor the warmth of his body against mine.

This new journey was just beginning, and I could only hope that today would bring a sense of normalcy.

As I made my way downstairs, the comforting aroma of spices and freshly cooked food wafted through the air. My mother was already busy in the kitchen, her hands deftly preparing breakfast. She looked up as I entered, her face lighting up with a smile.

"Good morning, beta," she greeted, her voice warm and inviting.

"Good morning, Maa," I replied, feeling a rush of comfort at her presence. "Is Baba awake?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. He had a long day yesterday."

A wave of concern washed over me. I needed to talk to him about the wedding, about everything. "Oh, okay," I said softly, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Is Bhaiya home?" I asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"No, he's at the hospital. There was some emergency," my mother replied, her tone shifting slightly.

Sadness tugged at my heart. I wanted to share everything that had been happening with me, especially about what he had said at my vidaii. But I pushed those feelings aside. "I hope he's okay," I murmured.

My mother noticed my expression and gently changed the subject. "So, did you two sleep well last night?"

I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks, heat rushing to my face. "Uh, yes, we slept well," I said, trying to sound casual. Ma gave me a knowing look, her eyes sparkling with that motherly curiosity.

"What damad ji take in the breakfast?" she asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

My face warmed immediately, and I found myself stammering, "I... I don't know." The embarrassment hit fast, and I looked down, fidgeting with the edge of my pallu.

Ma chuckled softly, and then her tone softened. "I know it's just the second day of marriage, beta," she said gently, "and that's why I'm letting it go. But remember, your husband is your first priority now." Her words were sweet but firm, like she was letting me in on a secret.

"You need to know his likes and dislikes, his tastes, what makes him happy or annoyed. He should be at the center of your life now."

"Yes, Ma, I understand," I replied, nodding, feeling the weight of her words settle into my heart. This was her way-always calm but full of expectation. It was the kind of advice she'd been giving all my life, preparing me for this role as if she knew it was coming.

But even as I agreed, a thought surfaced in my mind, one that I quickly brushed aside: Shouldn't it be the same for him, too? A flicker of doubt passed over me-Sidharth ji hadn't said much or even shared anything about himself yet. I dismissed it just as quickly, focusing on what Ma was telling me instead.

Thank goodness Bua isn't here, I thought, imagining how she'd jump into this conversation, ready to make a fuss out of my embarrassment.

Ma gave me a gentle nudge. "Now go wake him up, beta, and ask what he wants for breakfast."

"Me?" I blurted, my heart skipping a beat.

"Of course. You're his wife now." Her tone was simple, almost casual, but the meaning hit me deeply. I was his wife. And I was beginning to see all that really meant.

Nervously, I made my way back to the room. As I reached the doorway, I saw him still lying on the bed, his face soft and peaceful in the morning light. I paused, feeling an unfamiliar nervousness rise in my chest. The thought of waking him, of being this close, made my heart race.

I stepped closer, remembering last night-how his hand had found mine in the darkness, how he'd held me so securely, a warmth I hadn't expected. The memory brought a blush to my cheeks, and I fought the urge to turn back. I didn't want to disturb him, yet I knew Ma's words were right there in the back of my mind.

Taking a steadying breath, I reached out, placing my hand gently on his shoulder. His skin felt warm under my touch, and for a second, I hesitated, my fingers brushing lightly against him.

"Suniye..." I whispered, feeling the softness of his name on my lips.

"Uthiye na"

He stirred, his eyes opening slowly, adjusting to the light. He looked at me for a moment, just watching his gaze heavy and unreadable. I felt a flush creep up my neck. His eyes held a quiet strength, almost like they could see right through me, and I couldn't help but feel small under that look.

Finally, I lowered my eyes, suddenly aware of how close we were. "Um...Subhah ho gyi, uth jaiye Ap," I managed, stepping back, the warmth of his gaze lingering.

(It's morning. Get up)

At the doorway, I paused and turned. "And what would you like for breakfast?"

He nodded slightly, his expression remaining calm and distant. His eyes still have the tiredness & need for sleep.

"I'm fine with anything," he said, his voice steady but low. The morning voice was deeper than anything.

I nodded quickly, biting back the strange feeling that had crept over me. I turned to leave, my cheeks still warm, my heart still beating fast from that brief exchange.

I made my way back downstairs, hoping to help Ma with something else and avoid any more questions. But as soon as she spotted me, her face twisted in surprise.

"Arey, tum yaha kya kar rahi ho?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Go help him! He doesn't know his way around here. Go, help him & bring him down with you!"

I felt my cheeks heat up as I nodded, swallowing the sudden wave of nerves. Just as I turned to leave, my bhabhi shot me a knowing smile, one that made my heart race. She leaned in, pretending to adjust her dupatta, and whispered, "Dekhna, Noor, Sidharth ji kuch khaas help chahiye ho to wo v kar dena"

("Look, Noor, if Sidharth ji needs any special help, you should do that too.")

I felt my face warm up even more, and I could only nod shyly, unable to meet her eyes. I turned and headed back upstairs, my heart thumping harder with each step.

As I entered the room, I stopped in my tracks. Sidharth ji was on the floor, doing push-ups, his movements slow and powerful.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him half-naked. His skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, showcasing his strong, defined muscles.

Every inch of his body looked strong and defined. The muscles in his arms and shoulders rippled with each movement, and I couldn't help but notice the way his toned back flexed. The tattoo below his neck-a pair of wings-added an air of mystery, making him even more intriguing.

I gasped, completely caught off guard by the sight & and a little bit by how attractive he was. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt my cheeks flush a deep crimson.

He paused mid-push-up, lifting his head to look at me. Our eyes met, they were a striking blue, deep and intense, drawing me in as he paused to look at me, the intensity of his gaze made me feel as though I were the only person in the world. I could hardly breathe, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

Gathering every bit of courage I had, I managed to stammer,

"Uh... you... you should get fresh. Ma is calling you for breakfast."

He slowly rose to his feet, his presence commanding, and the way he looked at me made my insides twist with a mix of nervousness & something I can't pin point...yet.

"Okay," he replied, his voice low and smooth, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

Sidharth ji stood up, and I found myself frozen as he wiped the sweat from his face with the shirt he had been wearing. It was a simple act, but seeing him half-naked sent a jolt through me.

My cheeks flushed a deep red, and my heart raced-this was the first time I had seen a man's body like that. His broad shoulders and defined muscles seemed so powerful and intimidating yet oddly fascinating. I quickly looked away, feeling a mix of surprise and embarrassment wash over me. I was just a village girl, and this was all so new and overwhelming.

"Do you have a towel?" he asked, his voice steady, deep and low, cutting through my flustered thoughts. He wasn't one for many words, which somehow made him seem even more commanding.

"Uh, Ha! I'll get it," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper as I hurried to my almirah. My hands shook slightly as I grabbed a fresh towel, the heat of my cheeks making me feel flustered.

Did I really just see him like that?

I couldn't shake the image from my mind, and a strange mix of curiosity and embarrassment fluttered in my stomach.

I handed him the towel, avoiding his gaze as best I could. I couldn't believe I was standing here, heart racing, feeling like a child who had just stumbled into a grown-up's world.

He nodded, taking the towel and walking toward the bathroom. The way he carried himself-confident, almost like he belonged here-made me feel small and unsure of myself.

As the door clicked shut behind him, I was left alone, a storm of feelings swirling inside me.

What was happening to me? Why was I feeling this way?

Just moments ago, I was a simple girl, and now I was hyper-aware of every noise in the house, every heartbeat in my chest.

Sidharth ji's presence had shifted everything. The image of him shirtless played over and over in my mind like a loop I couldn't escape.

Uggghhh

I hugged myself, trying to contain the warmth spreading through me, feeling both giddy and tingling.

I don't even know what's running inside his brain or with what light he see me in his life?

Would I ever feel brave enough to approach him to ask these?

A few moments later, I heard a soft knock on the door. It was Ma.

"Beta, is Damad ji ready?" she called gently.

"Almost, he is bathing," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, but it was a struggle.

"Here, give him these clothes after his bath," she said, handing me a neatly folded nee set of clothes. I accepted them, my heart racing at the thought of facing him again.

My mind raced with questions. How would I givr him this now? What if I said something silly? What if I made a fool of myself in front of him?

Hey bhagwan!

I sat at the edge of the bed, anxiety creeping in as I contemplated how I would interact with him. I glanced at the door, my stomach twisting with nerves.

What would it be like to see him again?

Is he also feeling awkward like me or he's just okay?

After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door opened, and Sidharth ji stepped out, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

What's with him today?

My breath caught in my throat again. He looked so confident, yet there was something different in his expression-maybe a hint of awkwardness as he stretched the back of his neck, revealing a glimpse of his tattoo. It was a wing tattoo, and for some reason, it made my heart skip a beat.

I felt my cheeks heat up again, and I quickly focused on the clothes in my hands.

"Um... Ma gave this for you. Please get ready," I managed to say, my voice shaking slightly as I held out the clothes, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach.

Just as I was about to escape the awkwardness by rushing out of the room, I felt a warm hanf wrapping around my cold wrist. I stopped in my track only for my heart to skip a beat.

"Noor,"
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