"Just five more minutes, Vi," Rohit mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep, barely managing to lift his hand from under the covers as he lazily flashed five fingers in the air, without opening his eyes.

Rohit's face buried into the pillow, his expression peaceful. The familiar comfort of the moment had lulled him into forgetting about what happened in the last twenty-four hours. The lady, who was standing by the bedside, and trying to wake Rohit awake, the key word here was 'trying,' because no matter how many gentle nudges or soft calls of his name she attempted, Rohit remained in his own world, blissfully asleep.

She couldn't help the gentle smile that made its way subconsciously onto her face. "Old habits die hard," she thought, suppressing a small chuckle. She wasn't the 'Vi' Rohit was calling out for, though. Instead, she was Ritika, the woman who, only yesterday, had been as much of a stranger to Rohit as he was to her.

Yet here they were, tied by the unexpected pact of their grandmothers, a bond neither had anticipated but now had to navigate. Ritika's expression was a mix of amusement and patience as she watched Rohit mumble and groggily try to fend off the morning. Her smile lingered as she stood by the bedside, unsure of how to proceed. Should she wake him up? Let him sleep? Or maybe just let him have his 'five more minutes'?

As she was busy thinking, the warm ray of the morning sun was slowly creeping through the gap in the black pencil pleat curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. Ritika couldn't help but notice how the light caught the edges of Rohit's face, highlighting the relaxed lines of his features. He stirred a little, still muttering something about his best friend, and her heart softened a bit more. She could hear his soft sighs as he mumbled, and it was hard not to feel a sense of connection, despite the strangeness of their situation.

For a moment, she let herself simply observe him—this man she barely knew but was now bound to. Her heart flip-flops, a dance in her chest, as she notices the sunlight, warm and inviting, highlighting Rohit's dark tousled hair, the way his long eyelashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, the slight furrow of his brow even in sleep, and the gentle curve of his lips as they parted, murmuring something too faint for her to make out.

She blinked, snapping herself out of the thought. Why was she feeling this way? Rohit was practically a stranger, yet there was something about the peacefulness in his features that made her feel... safe. It was as if, for the first time, she was seeing him without the weight of the world on his shoulders, without the expectations or pressure. Just Rohit—unfiltered, raw, and completely unaware of the impact he was having on her at that very moment.

Ritika's eyes traced the contours of his face, and a warmth spread through her that she couldn't quite explain. Her eyes trailed down from Rohit's dark tousled hair to his relaxed face, then lingered on his chubby cheeks. A sudden, unexplainable urge tugged at her—a playful urge to reach out and pinch those chubby cheeks that looked so invitingly squishy. She found herself imagining how soft they would feel beneath her fingers, the gentle warmth of his skin against hers.

The thought alone made her smile involuntarily, and Ritika's hand began to rise from her side, moving almost of its own accord. Her fingers extended, and she could almost feel the texture of his cheeks beneath her fingertips. Her heart raced a little at the unexpected daring of the action, but her movements were gentle, cautious, and filled with a curious tenderness. Just as her fingers were about to make contact with his chubby cheek.

Ding Dong!

Yes, the doorbell rang, breaking the moment, with its unexpected chime. The sudden sound jolted Ritika from her trance, her hand freezing in mid-air. She blinked, momentarily disoriented, as the melodious yet intrusive ring echoed through the house. The room fell silent, the only sound now the faint, rhythmic breathing of the man she had been observing. Ritika's heart thudded a little faster, partly from the surprise of the doorbell and partly from the sudden realization of her almost-bold move. Her gaze shifted from Rohit's peaceful face to the hall, a mix of curiosity and mild panic fluttering in her chest.

With a sigh and a slightly embarrassed look, she reluctantly pulled her hand back and walked towards the door in the hall, her heart still fluttering from the unexpected interruption. As she approached the door, she cast one last glance over her shoulder at Rohit's room. Before, she grabbed the keys from the key holder and unlocked the door. She opened the door to reveal a figure standing in front of her, holding a packet of takeout in his left hand and a bouquet of vibrant flowers which he held in his right hand. The bouquet's oversized blooms—roses, lilies, and carnations—were so large that they completely hid the face of the man standing there.

All Ritika could see was a pair of well-worn white sneakers peeking out from under the hem of his black jeans. For a moment, Ritika was taken aback. The scene was almost comical—the mystery of who this was, combined with the contrast of the delicate flowers and the takeout packet he was holding. Her first instinct was to laugh, but curiosity got the better of her. "Uh... can I help you?" she asked, her voice hesitant but polite, as she craned her neck slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the man behind the flowers.

The man shuffled slightly, adjusting the bouquet, but still kept his face hidden. "Morning!" His voice was warm and upbeat, with an unmistakable familiarity to it. "Special delivery for Mr. Sharma. And..." He paused, seemingly adjusting something behind the flowers. "Also for his beautiful bride."

Ritika blinked, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of 'bride.' Her mind raced, but before she could react further, the man finally lowered the bouquet just enough to reveal his face. A cheeky grin spread across his lips, and there stood none other than Virat.

"Virat!" Ritika exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over her as she realized who the mystery visitor was. She couldn't help but chuckle at the scene in front of her—Virat, standing on Rohit's doorstep like a delivery boy.

And how Ritika recognized Virat, was all thanks to Rohit. From the moment they sat on the flight, Rohit made it a point to introduce her, not just to his team but to their bonds as well. Rohit showed Ritika every single group photo he had with his teammates, pointing out each one of them, sharing their quirks, their little inside jokes, and the stories that built their friendships. And then there was Virat. For him, Rohit had gone above and beyond. He had made Ritika sit through an entire slideshow of pictures, just the two of them—Rohit and Virat—captured in moments of shared joy, triumphs, and even silly antics, proudly narrating tales behind those pictures.

It was as if he was introducing her to a part of his soul, someone who had played a crucial role in shaping his journey. Rohit's constant mentions of Virat, filled with affection and admiration, had made her feel like she had known Virat forever, even though they hadn't met once. So when the door opened and she saw Virat standing there, bouquet in hand, grinning from ear to ear, it didn't feel like an awkward first meeting. Instead, it felt like reuniting with someone she had known for ages.

"Surprise!" Virat exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with mischief, holding out the bouquet towards her. "Thought I'd drop by. This one's for you, beautiful—" he said, his voice playful as he handed her the flowers.

Then, with a chuckle, he lifted another packet, "And this... is for the sleeping panda back there."

Ritika let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You and your dramatic entrance."

Virat shrugged playfully, stepping into the house as Ritika held the door open for him. "What can I say? I like to make an impression. Plus," he added, setting the takeout box on the nearby table, "I had to make sure my new bhabi doesn't get too bored while her hubby is busy in his dreamlands. You know how it is—someone's gotta keep you entertained."

Ritika stifled a laugh. "Yeah, he's not exactly a morning person, is he?"

"Trust me, I know," Virat said, amused. "I've been waking him up for years."

As Virat handed her the flowers, their bright colors lighting up the space between them, he lowered his voice. "I see you've already been dealing with him. Don't worry, waking Ro is like baking—takes a lot of patience, and to Ro's luck neither I am a good baker nor have patience." He winked, playfully easing the tension of the morning.

Ritika shook her head, bemused by Virat's energy. "Why do I feel like something chaotic is going to happen?" Ritika asked, raising an eyebrow, her teasing and cautious tone as she took the bouquet from Virat.

Virat couldn't help but chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Chaotic?" he repeated, his grin widening as the mischievous spark in his eyes intensified. "Bhabi, chaos is practically my middle name. But don't worry," he added with a wink, "It's all in good fun. Ro's gotten used to my antics by now."

Ritika's expression softened into amusement, as she watched Virat walk towards the bedroom. "You see," he called over his shoulder, glancing back at Ritika with a grin that promised mischief, "I have a history of waking him up in... a very creative way."

Ritika tilted her head, intrigued, "Creative way?" she echoed, unsure whether to be amused or concerned.

"Oh, you have no idea," Virat smirked, rubbing his hands together with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Shall we give the sleeping panda a morning he won't forget? I mean, it's your first day as Mrs. Sharma—might as well make it memorable, and also learn how to wake that sleepy head, from his hibernation."

Ritika let out a small laugh but shook her head, her hands raised in surrender. "Oh no, I'm not getting involved in whatever this is. I have a feeling it's going to be loud and... possibly involve a lot of yelling." She glanced toward the bedroom, already picturing the scene that was about to unfold.

Virat's grin widened at Ritika's reluctant amusement. "Oh, Bhabi, trust me. The fun is just getting started," he said, his voice full of mischief as he nudged the door to Rohit's bedroom open with his elbow.

Ritika followed a step behind, curiosity outweighing her better judgment. The door creaked slightly as Virat pushed it open, revealing Rohit still wrapped under the soft white comforter. His peaceful expression hadn't changed—his face half-buried in the pillow, his hair a tousled mess, and his soft snores filling the room. Virat tiptoed up to the bed, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint as he studied Rohit's peacefully sleeping form. His lips curved into a playful smirk as he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Ritika standing by the brown coffee table, quietly observing him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Virat whispered, his voice low but playful, "Bhabi, could you pass me that water jug from the coffee table?" He nodded toward the glass jug sitting innocently on the brown coffee table, its cool contents shimmering in the soft morning light.

Ritika's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the request. She glanced from Virat to the jug, then back to Rohit, who was still completely unaware of the chaos about to descend upon him. "You're not serious, right?" she asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

Virat raised his brows, his expression feigning innocence, but his grin betrayed him. "Oh, Bhabi, trust me, it's tradition," he whispered dramatically, holding out his hand toward her. "I promise, this is the only way to wake him up. I have been waking him up, like this, for years. Besides, the guy could legit sleep through an earthquake, and it won't shock me."

Ritika hesitated, glancing once more at the peaceful Rohit. She wasn't entirely sure if she should be enabling this, but the playful mischief in Virat's eyes was contagious, and she couldn't stop the smile tugging at her lips. She stepped over to the coffee table, lifting the water jug in her hands, and handed him the jug, watching with bated breath as Virat carefully took it in his hands.

"Okay, fine. But remember, you're taking full responsibility for this," Ritika said, her tone light but warning.

Virat gave her a mock salute, grinning. "Absolutely. You're just an innocent bystander in all of this, who didn't know what I was doing, Bhabi. I swear."

Virat tipped it ever so slightly, testing the weight, a grin stretching across his face as he inched closer to the bed. The soft snores coming from Rohit only added to the absurdity of the situation, and Ritika found herself stifling another giggle.

"All right," Virat whispered, more to himself now as he carefully raised the jug over Rohit's head. "Here goes nothing."

Virat paused for a moment, the jug hovering above Rohit's head, for a moment, Ritika thought Virat might drop the idea of pouring the water, and wake Rohit subtly, like a normal human. But, no. This was Virat. Normalcy and subtlety weren't his style. With a swift, well-practiced motion, Virat tilted the jug and emptied the entire jug over Rohit's head.

The cold water poured down in a dramatic splash, drenching Rohit's hair, and soaking through the white pillow and the comforter beneath him. Rohit's eyes flew open, his brain scrambling to process the shock of the icy water. He shot up in bed, his hair sticking out in all directions, his shirt drenched and clinging to his body. As the water trickled down his face and dripped from his chin, he blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"Shit, shit, tsunami!" Rohit yelled, his voice a high-pitched squeal of disbelief.

The sheer absurdity of the situation combined with the unexpected shock of the cold water had him sounding like he'd just survived a disaster movie. "Morning, sunshine!" Virat called out with exaggerated cheerfulness, his voice ringing with playful mockery.

Virat took a step back, placing the now-empty jug back on the brown side table. Unable to stifle his amusement, he doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach as he watched Rohit's frantic efforts to wring out his drenched clothes. Rohit now shivering and drenched, blinked again, confusion giving way to realization—and then, to irritation. "VIRAT PREM KOHLI, YOU ARE SO DEAD!"

Rohit exclaimed, his voice still thick with sleep, as he stumbled to his feet, clutching the drenched white pillow and comforter. Water dripped from every possible angle, the soaked bedding creating a slippery mess beneath his feet. Virat's laughter echoed through the room, a sound so infectious that even Ritika, despite her attempts to stay neutral, found herself smiling. Virat bent over, his hands resting on his knees as he gasped for breath between fits of laughter. The sight of Rohit's disheveled, dripping form was clearly too much for him to handle.

Virat managed to choke out, "I thought ki main tumhain bed par hi bath karwa do, you know it will save your time and water, sunshine!"

Virat's laughter reached new heights at the sight of Rohit standing on the bed, drenched and trying to dry himself off with the soaked pillow and comforter, only making matters worse. But his laugh died a brutal death as soon as he saw, Rohit narrowing his eyes in mock fury and charging towards him. Despite the chilly water still dripping from his hair and clothes, Rohit leaped off the bed, sending the soggy pillow and comforter sliding across the floor. He charged towards Virat, his soaked clothes making him look like a drenched, very disgruntled cat.

"Idhar aa tu, Vi!" Rohit yelled out, his voice brimming with mock rage. "Tera sunshine mein nikalta hoon!"

With a reflexive yelp, Virat leaped back, his face a picture of exaggerated fear. He stumbled over the coffee table, barely managing to catch his balance as he shot a panicked glance over his shoulder. "Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!" Virat muttered, his voice a frantic whisper as he ran to the other corner of the room.

Rohit, dripping and glaring with feigned menace, chased behind Virat shouting, "Vi, you better stop if you wanna be alive!"

Virat's laughter erupted once again as he darted around the room, dodging furniture in a frantic attempt to escape Rohit's dripping wrath. His eyes watering from laughter, and his arms flailed slightly as he glanced back over his shoulder to see Rohit gaining on him. "Pehle pakad toh le, sunshine!" he called out between breaths, barely able to contain his laughs, as he barely managed to swerve around the armchair.

The mischievous glint in his eyes only egged Rohit on further, as the drenched man slipped on the wet floor, cursing under his breath but not slowing down. He rolled his eyes at Virat's taunt, "Sunshine, ke bache idhar aa? I'm going to fry you like the sunshine in a desert, just wait!"

The room turned into a chaotic maze, with Virat leaping over the couch and Rohit close on his heels, slipping slightly on the wet floor again but recovering soon, for someone who just got woken up. Just as Rohit was about to lunge over the back of the couch where Virat had momentarily taken refuge, a soft sound of giggles echoed through the room. Both men froze mid-motion—Rohit mid-step, dripping water onto the floor, Virat crouched low with his arms half-raised in surrender.

The sound of laughter hung in the air for a moment, and both of them, panting and wide-eyed, turned towards the source. Virat's eyes widened in realization as he forgot that Ritika had been in the room all along. She was now standing at the door, deliberately keeping her distance to avoid interrupting the playful chase between her husband and his best friend. She was trying — and failing miserably — to stifle her laughter. Her hand was pressed against her mouth, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Rohit, still soaked to the bone, blinked rapidly. He had been so caught up in the chase that he hadn't even noticed Ritika's presence in the room. His eyes darted towards her, and he felt his face heat up. "Ritika..." he muttered, the mock rage draining from his voice, replaced by a wave of embarrassment.

Ritika's laughter bubbled up again, and she took a few steps further into the room. "You two, can legit give Tom and Jerry a competition!" she teased, as she continued to laugh.

Rohit stood frozen, his breath still catching up from the chase, as the sound of Ritika's laughter echoed around the room, soft and lilting, like the sweetest melody. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her, the playful energy he had moments ago quickly fading into something softer. It wasn't just the teasing, or the fact that she caught him mid-rampage, but something about the way her laughter filled the room made everything else blur—his soggy clothes, the dripping water, even Virat's goofy grin.

For a moment, it felt like time slowed down. Rohit's gaze remained fixed on Ritika, who was now wiping away a tear of laughter from her eye. Her amusement was genuine and contagious, and it made Rohit's embarrassment fade into something much warmer. He felt a smile tugging at his lips, one that was more than just a reflex. It was a smile of appreciation and affection. And right, at that time, as Rohit watched Ritika's entire face light up, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, and the way she laughed without restraint, something inside him softened completely.

Rohit's heart swelled, and a thought subconsciously slipped into his mind— I could do this a million times. Be this dumb, this embarrassing, this ridiculous, this clumsy, this stupid, if it meant I'd get to hear that laugh, see that joy light up her face every single time.

Rohit's eyes never left Ritika's face, as if soaking in the moment, like he was storing it away, savoring the simple, beautiful normalcy of it. How her laughter could dissolve his embarrassment in an instant, leaving behind only a warm glow that wrapped around his heart. Virat, who had been watching the scene with a knowing smirk, stood up slowly from his crouch, brushing the water droplets off his shirt. His eyes flicked between the two — his best friend, standing there like a deer caught in headlights, and Ritika, now grinning at both men as if they were the most amusing thing she'd seen all day.

Virat faked a cough, breaking the warm silence that had enveloped the room. He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward in that teasing way only he could pull off. "Uh, Ro... I hope you're still here?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, as if he hadn't just been caught in a playful chase seconds ago.

Rohit blinked, snapping out of the trance he'd unknowingly slipped into, the heat in his cheeks returning in full force, he shot back a little too quickly, "Yeah, of course, I am!"

His tone was defensive, but the playful glare he aimed at Virat couldn't hide the lingering warmth that spread through his chest. But before Virat could come up with another quip, Ritika stepped in, her laughter softening into a fond smile as she moved closer, handing Rohit a fluffy white towel, her fingers brushing his for just a moment. And Rohit doesn't know if it was just his imagination or something real, but for that split second, as their fingers touched, his heart didn't just somersault, but a freaking full-on cartwheel.

And a warmth spread through him that had definitely nothing to do with the towel she was offering. His gaze softened even further, and all the chaos that had just filled the room—the chase, the laughter, Virat's teasing—all of it seemed to fade into the background. Rohit's eyes remained locked on Ritika's as he took the towel from her, their fingers lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Rohit dabbed at his wet hair and face, trying to regain some appearance of dignity while the playful glint in Ritika's eyes remained fixed on him. "Thanks," he said, managing a smile. "I'll freshen up and join you and Vi for breakfast, in 10." With that, Rohit turned and walked towards the washroom, his steps feeling heavier than usual.

Rohit could still hear Virat's occasional chuckle and Ritika's light laughter as he pushed open the door and slipped inside. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and leaned back against it, letting out a slow breath. For a moment, he stood there, resting a hand over his heart and feeling its rapid thumping beneath his palm. As he thought again, Yeah, I could do this forever—just to hear Ritika laugh and see her smile like that.

Meanwhile, as soon as Rohit closed the washroom's door, Ritika shook her head, her laughter still echoing softly in the room as she looked at Virat with a playful glint in her eye. "You two," she began, "Are like a pair of overgrown children. I swear, watching you two is like watching an episode of Tom and Jerry—only with less cartoonish violence and more water."

Ritika gave a soft chuckle, as she started walking, towards the dining table in the hall. Virat followed a few paces behind, his hands tucked casually into his pockets as his grin widened. "Absolutely! And you've got a front-row seat to the madness and chaos now, Bhabi. Welcome to the family."

Ritika stopped dead in her tracks, as Virat's words echoed in her ears: 'Welcome to the family.' Ritika's heart swelled in her chest, at that phrase, and she couldn't quite put a finger on why. She blinked, her feet rooted to the spot as the world around her seemed to narrow down to just that one phrase. She hadn't really thought about it much, not with all the chaos that had unfolded in the last 24 hours.

The wedding had been a whirlwind—an unexpected pact made by her late grandmother and Rohit's late grandmother, a promise neither of them had anticipated fulfilling so soon, or at all. Yet, here she was, a day into this new chapter of her life, standing in the middle of their apartment, hearing Virat —Rohit's best friend and practically family—casually welcome her as though she had been part of Rohit's close-knit circle forever.

It wasn't just his words—it was the way he said them, the way his teasing had softened into something genuine, something that made her feel like she belonged without even having to try. Virat, walking a few steps behind her, noticed her sudden stillness and tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Bhabi, you okay?" he asked his tone softer now, the teasing edge replaced with genuine concern.

Ritika blinked again, snapping out of her thoughts, and managed a small, shy smile. "I'm fine," she said, though her voice was quieter than usual, almost hesitant. As they reached the dining table, Ritika could still feel the weight of Virat's words lingering in the air. She was accepted—welcomed wholeheartedly, not just by Rohit, but by the people he loved most. And the strange thing was, it didn't feel overwhelming or awkward. It felt... right, like it was meant to be.

Virat, noticing her quietness, gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Hey, Bhabi. Don't overthink it. We are a bit crazy, but we're good people. You'll fit right in. So relax, take a seat at the dining table, while I get the plates from the kitchen."

Ritika nodded, though her thoughts still lingered on that word—family. She hadn't expected this. To feel so at ease so soon. To feel this happy. She wasn't sure what the future held for her and Rohit, but in that moment, she knew one thing for sure—being part of this family felt like coming home. 

"Being part of this family was like having a place where laughter, acceptance, and love effortlessly intertwined, making it feel like a warm embrace."

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How was Ritsy and Vi's meeting?  I hope it wasn't boring...I tried making the chap chaotic, cause I wanted to read something chaotic lol...and in the next update maybe or maybe not we will see Ro and Ritsy coming closer lmao.

PS. Do let me know, your favorite part of the story.

XOXO!