"Are you sure?" You asked again, looking into Shubman's eyes. "You're ready to leave everything behind?"

He only gave you another reassuring nod but you weren't convinced.

"You worked so hard for it, Shubi," you reminded him.

"Nothing is more important than you, love," he held your cheek, caressing it. "I'm ready to let go of it."

"Okay," you said in a low tone and then sighed. "Let's abandon the ratatouille."

The 3-Quart casserole dish was microwaved for longer than needed because you and Shubman were busy kissing.

"We'll make something else, baby," he pecked your lips before making you sit on the kitchen island. "Do you wanna try something new or just a small snack?"

"I'm not sure," you mumbled, swaying your legs back and forth as he walked to the fridge.

After a quick scan of everything inside, he turned to you again.

You looked at the pack of frozen potato smileys in his hand, for longer than what would've been normal, and shook your head as a no.

"Probably not for dinner," you said, looking away.

Despite feeling that something was off, Shubman just nodded, leaving it back in the freezer.

"Honey," you said after giving it a long thought.

"Yes, sweetheart," he replied.

"Not that, idiot," you got down the kitchen island, walking to him. "Honey lemon water. Shahneel drinks it all the time, next to coffee, of course."

"But after a proper dinner," he added. "And I'm 'honey' too."

"Alright, honey," you held his shoulders from behind, pushing him forward. "What about aloo paratha?"

"With paneer butter masala," he suggested and you gave a double thumbs up.

While you were looking for ice cubes to eat in the meantime, Shubman gave you a small kiss before starting with the preparations. "Your chef's kiss."

One bowl of dough and eighteen kisses later~

"Is that for what I think it is?" Ishan asked as soon as he entered the kitchen, glancing at the potato stuffing.

"Aloo paratha," the younger one confirmed.

You both just had them for dinner. And Shahneel should've woken up from her siesta only now.

It's called 'afternoon' nap for a reason. But she didn't mind going on till it was time for dinner.

"How romantic," he pinched Shubman's cheek. "For me, right?"

"Of course not, Ishu," he said as a matter of fact, earning an utterly dumbfounded face in response.

"Traitor," Ishan mumbled. "You're proving time after time that Shahneel cares for me more than you do. She made momos for me yesterday."

"And you're still okay?" Shubman looked at him suspiciously. No way on Earth that his sister made something edible.

"Perfectly fine," the older one answered, placing the iPad on the kitchen island for Shubman to see since you weren't around.

You had left just a few minutes earlier to ask Shahneel what is best for dessert. Vanilla ice cream with soy sauce or Oreos with orange juice.

She checked your head for any injuries before asking you who suggested it. Google, obviously.

"Did you both knead the dough together?" Ishan asked while staring at the glass bowl. The younger one's smile said all he needed to hear.

With a sigh, he went through a few applications on the iPad.

"People in love," he mumbled. "Why do you have to make me feel so single?"

Shubman paid no mind to his single best friend's woes and ruffled his hair instead. Ishan had been growing it out.

"I'm twenty five, but I have the body of a twenty year old," the older one started, pointing to the photo displayed on the screen. "It's in the freezer."

"You caught him," he stared at the picture of a bloodied person in a clear bag.

"He did have some information on him. What's his face," Ishan said, swiping to the next picture. "Y/n's uncle. He's currently kept in a safe house. Unsure if it's in Goa."

Shubman nodded, staring at the paused CCTV footage from the basement parking lot the other day.

Placing another stuffed paratha on the pan, his hands rested against the edge of the island, leaning towards the iPad.

His eyes resembled an ocean at that moment. Calm on the outside, but the rage within can never be stopped.

"Ishu," he called. "When he's found, let's not kill him immediately. I want to make sure he suffers enough."

"Death will be an easy option for him. We'll take care of it," the older one assured.

"Tell me about this guy," Shubman straightened his posture again before flipping the paratha on the pan. "The bag is filled with blood and I can barely see his face."

"I used heparin on him," he said, eating some of the paratha dough. "Just felt like killing a whole bloodline."

"And the other one, is he any useful?" The younger one asked as Ishan reached for the dough again. "You'll get a stomach ache, Ishu," he slightly swatted the hand away.

"He knows the place where her uncle is kept. For now, I've ordered to cut a nerve every time he moves so-"

"Shubi, I don't think I'll finish the honey lemon water completely-" You walked inside the kitchen, stopping on your tracks as Shubman flipped the iPad screen down.

Ishan closed his eyes, face grimaced, cringing at the sound of the screen colliding with the Italian marble top.

He knew for a fact that the electronic gadget was never going to be the same again.

"Could've flipped it the other way," he muttered under his breath.

"Baby, did you ask di? What did she say?" Shubman pushed the definitely-broken-device towards Ishan.

"Hey, Y/n," the older one smiled. "Long time no see."

"We saw each other for lunch, Ishan," you replied and he mumbled an 'oh,' looking away.

"Shahneel was asking about the imported materials for your designs," he said quickly. "I'll go talk to her about it."

And that's how you and Shubman were left alone in the kitchen again.

"What was that?" You asked, walking towards him.

"Ishan ate too much dough," he answered, holding your hand once you were close enough.

But really, he ate the dough for two parathas at least.

"Not that, Shub," you looked at his eyes that were focusing on your cheek.

'No Shubi or honey?' He wanted to ask so badly.

"I saw the picture," you said as he kissed your cheek.

Shubman stayed for a moment, his lips hovering just above your cheek, but not touching.

"That," he tried to start casually, running his fingers through your hair.

But he couldn't lie to you. Never.

"Should we have milkshakes first?" He asked, pulling away to look into your eyes. "Or ice cream?"

He turned off the burner, finished with making parathas for Shahneel and Ishan as well.

"Brownie is still sleeping in Di's room, nah? Shall we-"

"Don't ignore the elephant in the room," you said and Shubman looked around.

He didn't see his sister anywhere near.

Holding his cheek, you made him face you again. "You know what I mean."

He let out a short breath, looking into your eyes directly.

"I want to make sure he'll never cross paths with you again," Shubman brought his hands to your cheeks slowly, caressing them. "I know you don't want anything to do with him, but I must make sure that you're safe all the time."

You knew the meaning for 'make sure' in his dictionary.

The situation made you feel like you were back in your house of cards. Precariously balanced, insubstantial and insecure.

Staring at him for a few seconds, you grabbed the bowl of ice cream from the kitchen counter.

Finishing it within two minutes, not saving him any, you stretched your arms towards him wordlessly.

Taking his cue, Shubman lifted you up in his arms.

"To our room," you said and he obliged.

You stayed silent as you passed through the hallways, head on his shoulder and picking at the material of his t-shirt.

"It makes me uneasy," you finally spoke up as he laid you on the bed. "I don't like you worrying about him or anyone for that matter."

"This is not about him, honey," he pulled the comforter up to cover you. "This is for you. I'd lay down my life to protect you, and I'll be damned if I let him get away with hurting you."

Shubman rested one of his arms beside your head, kissing your cheek as he laid on his side.

"Please don't worry about it, love," he caressed your cheek, his face hovering above yours. "It'll be over soon, and then you don't have to stop a moment in life and experience sorrow."

You peered up at him, filling his chest with warmth by every glance you sent his way.

Look at your eyes.

He would die for you. And to put it concisely, he would kill for you.

You were like a river flowing into his soul.

A symbol of life, a passage of time, his gentle flow of melody, urging him to stay with you in all your attainments and conundrums.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, an ambiguous glint in your eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss.

Shubman would submit to you anytime. He'll kiss you as if it's breathing, but not when you're doing it to distract yourself.

He pulled away and barely shook his head, running his fingers over your eyes softly.

Kissing your now closed eyelids instead, he whispered. "Sleep."

You felt another kiss to your forehead and the aplomb you needed.

"I love you," he laid his head on your shoulder, gently patting you to sleep.

Shubman held you in his arms so tight in a way even demons snored that night.