Now, the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -
‼️next update on Wednesday ‼️

Note:- I'm sorry for late posting. It's my birthday today actually so my family & friends decided to surprise me at midnight & hence my phone was with them.

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Hindu-

अगर तुम मिल जाओ
ज़माना छोड़ देंगे हम

अगर तुम मिल जाओ
ज़माना छोड़ देंगे हम
अगर तुम मिल जाओ
ज़माना छोड़ देंगे हम
तुम्हें पा कर ज़माने भर से रिश्ता तोड़ देंगे हम
अगर तुम मिल जाओ
ज़माना छोड़ देंगे हम
अगर तुम मिल जाओ
ज़माना छोड़ देंगे हम

बिना तेरे कोई दिलकश नज़ारा हम ना देखेंगे

बिना तेरे कोई दिलकश नज़ारा हम ना देखेंगे
तुम्हें ना हो पसंद उसको दोबारा हम ना देखेंगे
तेरी सूरत ना हो जिस में
हम्म्म हम्म्म हम्म्म
तेरी सूरत ना हो जिस में
वो शिशा तोड़ देंगे हम
अगर तुम मिल जाओ
ज़माना छोड़ देंगे हम

तेरे दिल में रहेंगे तुझको अपना घर बना लेंगे

तेरे दिल में रहेंगे तुझको अपना घर बना लेंगे
तेरे ख़्वाबों को गहनों की तरह खुद पर सजा लेंगे
कसम तेरी कसम आ आ आ
कसम तेरी कसम
तकदीर का रूख मोड़ देंगे हम
अगर तुम मिल जाओ
ज़माना छोड़ देंगे हम

_

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I followed Samiksha quietly as she led me through the classroom. My eyes wandered around, catching glimpses of students laughing, chatting, and moving around with ease. It felt...different.

New.

I had missed all of this. The noise, the smell of books, the soft hum of life that buzzed through the walls. I missed it so much.

"Here, sit here," Samiksha said, pointing to an empty bench near the window. Her voice was soft & friendly. I sat down slowly, my hands resting on the cold surface of the wooden bench. It felt familiar and strange all at once.

I glanced around, my heart tugging with a familiar ache. Riya. I wished she were here. She would have laughed, thrown her arm around me, and said something silly to make me smile. But she was already done with her studies.

The classroom was lively. People were chatting like they had known each other forever. Laughter echoed from different corners, jokes flying back and forth, but I just sat there, my hands folded neatly in my lap. I had missed this.

Two years of staying home, watching my father battle cancer, holding back my own dreams because family came first. I don't regret it. But I missed this feeling-the feeling of being close to my dream, of breathing in the freedom that came with education.

I was still looking around, taking everything in, when someone slid into the seat next to me. I turned quickly, to see Samiksha. I blinked, a little surprised, then turned back to face the front. My fingers nervously fiddled with the edge of my dupatta.

The voices around me grew louder-friends catching up, some even playfully hitting each other on the arms, laughing about something I couldn't hear.

I watched them from the corner of my eye, my hands still clenched together. They all seemed so comfortable, so at ease with each other. I wondered if I would ever feel like that.

Maybe...someday.

Suddenly, a girl sitting on the bench ahead of me turned around. She was wearing jeans and a short kurti, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She smiled at me-bright and easy-and I blinked back at her, unsure how to react.

"New student?" she asked, her voice light and friendly.

I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out. My fingers gripped my dupatta a little tighter. After a pause, I just nodded slowly, feeling my cheeks warm up slightly.

Her smile grew wider. "Don't get uncomfortable, please...your name?"

Her voice was gentle, like she was trying not to scare me away. I hesitated before I managed a small smile. "Noor," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh hey, Noor! Nice name," she said cheerfully, holding out her hand. "Jagriti here."

I stared at her hand for a moment before reaching out and shaking it gently. "Nice to meet you Jagriti," I said, the words feeling a little strange on my tongue. But it wasn't so bad. Her smile made it easier.

Before we could say anything else, the classroom fell silent. I looked up, following everyone's gaze to the front of the class. Two men had entered-one older, the principal I had seen this morning, and a younger man dressed sharply. He looked serious, his eyes scanning the room with a firm gaze.

Everyone stood up. I quickly got to my feet too, following their lead. My eyes went back to the younger man. He couldn't have been much older than Veer, But his face...it was serious, sharp. He didn't smile, didn't nod, just looked around as if searching for something.

I straightened my back, my hands smoothing down my dupatta as I waited, my heart thumping just a little harder in my chest.

The room went silent, like even the walls were holding their breath, but then I felt Samiksha lean in, her voice barely above a whisper, "That's Professor Dheer. The bitchiest and meanest teacher in the university."

I blinked at her words, a little stunned. The word she used...I wasn't used to hearing things like that, not so openly. But as I looked at him, standing tall and sharp beside the principal, I couldn't help but notice he did look...strict.

His eyes were sharp, moving slowly over each student, like he was searching for mistakes. I stayed silent,But I couldn't deny he did look a bit...unfriendly.

The principal cleared his throat. "We have a new student-Noor-joining us," he said, his hand stretching out towards me.

My heart skipped a beat. I could feel eyes turning toward me, curious and observing. My hands clenched a little tighter around the edge of my dupatta. I wasn't used to this kind of attention.

All these people...all their eyes. But I knew I couldn't just stand there, frozen. So I took a small breath, just enough to steady myself, and looked up, offering the room a small smile. It wasn't big, but it was polite. Enough.

The principal continued, "This is your Economics professor, Dheer. And as you know, you have joined us two months late after the session has started. Please, after your second class finishes-which is also your last class-visit his office to collect the notes of the last two months. If you have any problems, ask him. He's present until 5 in the evening. Right, professor Dheer?"

I watched as the principal turned to Professor Dheer. I wasn't really looking at him before, but now my eyes moved to his face. His gaze flickered toward me for just a second. His eyes were dark, serious, and his expression stayed flat. "Hmm," he replied, the sound low and short. Not a yes, not a no. Just...a sound. It was enough for me to understand what Samiksha meant.

The principal gave a small nod and left the room, his shoes tapping against the floor, the sound growing fainter. But Professor Dheer stayed. He walked up to the podium, his movements sharp and practiced, placing his books down without a word. There was no greeting. No 'Good morning,' no smile-just the hard slap of books against the wood and the sound of pages turning.

I straightened in my seat, my hands folded neatly on the desk. I was used to people like him. Not mean, exactly...but firm. People who didn't bother with small talk or pleasantries. It didn't scare me; it just meant I had to listen harder.

He started the lecture right away, his voice, filling the room with words I hadn't heard in two years. I grabbed my notebook, the fresh pages waiting for ink, and started writing down everything he said. I could feel the focus settling in, my pen moving quickly over the lines, capturing each word like it was important. Because to me, it was.

The room was silent except for his voice and the scratching of pens. I could hear Samiksha scribbling beside me, her head bent low, and I felt a small bit of comfort knowing I wasn't the only one trying to keep up. I didn't look up, not even once. I just wrote and listened, my world shrinking down to the sound of his lecture and the feeling of the pen in my hand.

Whatever Samiksha said about him, I didn't mind. I wasn't here to like him. I was here to learn. And for now, that was all that mattered.

.

.

.

.

.

.

As the lecture ended, I slowly closed my notebook. I looked around and saw students already packing their bags, ready to go.

Samiksha was too packing her bag when she turned toward me, her eyes bright and cheerful.

"Professor Dheer ka office kidar hai?" I asked her softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
(Where is Professor Dheer's office?)

Samiksha raised an eyebrow at me before nodding with a little smile.

"Come, I'll take you," she said, her tone friendly and warm. I felt relief wash over me.

I packed my things carefully, slipping my books into my bag one by one, making sure everything was in its place. Then, just as I was zipping up my bag, my phone vibrated softly against the desk. I paused, blinking down at it before I picked it up.

My heart fluttered. Sidharth ji.

I opened the message,it read simply.

*Bahar khara hu,*
(I'm standing outside.)

A smile stretched across my face before I even realized it. My heart felt light, almost like it was skipping. He was here. He was waiting for me. The thought of seeing him after the whole day made me feel warm and... safe. I quickly typed back a reply, and hit send.

"Okay,"

Samiksha was already standing, her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Chalein?" she asked, looking down at me with a grin.
(Shall we go?)

I nodded, tucking my phone back into my bag carefully before standing up. My hands smoothed over my dupatta out of habit, and I followed Samiksha out of the class. The hallways were crowded, filled with students and noise, but I stayed close to her, my eyes drifting over everything-the notice boards, the walls with old paint, the wide windows that let sunlight pour in. Everything felt big and new, like I was walking through a world I had only dreamed about.

Samiksha walked a little ahead, weaving through the crowd with ease, while I kept my steps measured and slow, observing everything. The girls here wore jeans and kurtis, some even in dresses I had only seen in magazines. Their laughter came easily, their voices bold and bright. I couldn't help but smile a little, imagining myself as confident as them one day.

And to wear those dresses once in my life too. How will I look in them? Will Siddharth ji like that? Will he--

Hey bhagwan.

We climbed the stairs slowly, my fingers brushing against the cold metal railing.

Samiksha finally stopped in front of a wooden door, a small sign reading "Professor Dheer" pinned to the front. A peon was standing there, arms crossed, looking a little bored. Samiksha stepped forward, asking politely if the professor was in.

"Professor to chale gaye. Kuch family emergency thi," the peon replied, shaking his head.
(The professor has left. There was a family emergency.)

Samiksha nodded, taking a step back. I was just standing there, two steps behind her, hands folded in front of me. Samiksha looked back at me, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Inki bhi family hai?" she whispered with a grin.
(He has a family too?)

I blinked at her, not understanding at first, but then she laughed-a loud, bright laugh that echoed in the hallway. I just smiled back softly, not really sure what was funny, but happy to see her happy.

We turned back, making our way downstairs, Samiksha walking a little ahead while I followed behind, my eyes still soaking in everything around me.

Okay.

Siddharth's fingers tapped lightly against his phone before he slipped it back into his pocket. His back rested against the sleek frame of his car, his arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze fixed unyieldingly on the gate of the college. Dark, raven-black glasses sat on the bridge of his nose-not his usual reading ones but sharper, more polished.

They paired perfectly with his crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up neatly, revealing strong, veined forearms. He looked composed, leaning casually, but anyone who knew him well would notice the slight tension in his stance, the way his head lifted just a bit every time the gate swung open, searching, waiting.

Students began spilling out, voices blending into a dull hum, laughter and chatter filling the air. But Sidharth's eyes didn't waver; they stayed pinned to the entrance, waiting for one face.

A face with soft brown eyes and a yellow suit, the very one she had stood in front of the mirror this morning, asking herself multiple times if it looked 'too bright.'

He had just smiled & stood near the gate and shaken his head, knowing she could wear the sun itself and still look soft and gentle.

His heart thudded a little harder against his ribs, fingers curling slightly against his arm.

How did her first day go? Was she nervous? Did anyone make her feel uncomfortable?

His jaw clenched at the thought, eyes squinting past the crowd, searching for her. Did she make friends? Was she smiling the way she did at home, or was she sitting quietly in the back, too shy to speak? The questions swirled around his mind, restless and impatient.

Just as he was about to push off the car and walk toward the gate himself, a flicker of yellow emerged from the crowd. His breath caught for a second, shoulders straightening as if pulled by invisible strings. There she was.

Noor.

His Noor

The sunlight poured over her as she walked, her yellow dupatta floating behind her, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands rebelliously framing her face. Her eyes held that familiar softness, her lips curved into a small, tired smile, and beside her walked another girl, chatting animatedly.

But Sidharth barely acknowledged the girl's presence; his eyes were locked on Noor as if she were the only person in the universe. His Noor, his beautiful Noor.

As she came closer, his gaze followed every detail. He noticed how her hair was a little messier now than it had been in the morning, tiny strands slipping out, clinging to her cheek. Her makeup had faded just a little, but to him, she looked even more beautiful, the tiredness somehow making her more real, more tangible.

He breath, finally releasing the breath and felt peace settling down his body.

His heart clenched with an ache he couldn't describe-an obsession almost, the kind that crept up on him every time she was near.

He straightened up, his feet moving forward without a thought. Noor's eyes flicked up, and their gazes locked. She stopped, her hands instinctively going to her dupatta, nervously tucking it around her shoulders.

Siddharth's lips curled up into a smile. He knew that gesture too well-his shy wife was back. He watched as she bit her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear, her eyes looking everywhere but at him.

A warm, uncontainable smile spread on his lips, and his footsteps slowed as he reached her, standing just two or three steps away. For a moment, he just looked at her-just drank her in with his eyes, the way her cheeks held a hint of pink, the way her eyes flickered with nervousness and excitement.

His heart was still beating hard, like it had been running this whole time just to meet hers. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and then-softly, gently-he reached out, his fingers brushing her shoulder as he pushed back a stray strand of hair, his hand smoothing out the edge of her dupatta.

His touch was light, almost hesitant, but there was a tenderness in it that spoke more than words ever could. He adjusted her dupatta, his eyes still fixed on her, and Noor's breath seemed to catch for a moment. He knew she wouldn't like it if he touched her too openly, not here, not in front of people. He respected that-always had.

But still, the urge to protect, to shield her from the world, made his fingers linger just a little longer, his hands brushing off invisible creases. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

"Kya kar rahe hai?" she whispered, her voice soft and shy.
(What are you doing?)

Sidharth couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face, his eyes crinkling just a bit behind his glasses. Still smoothing out her dupatta, he flicked his gaze up to meet hers and said, voice low and steady,

"Dekh raha hu apni biwi ko."
(Looking at my wife.)

Noor's cheeks flushed, the pink deepening as her eyes fell to the ground, a soft, almost embarrassed smile tugging at her lips. His heart did a strange, skipping thing at the sight, and he had to take another breath, this one slower, deeper. He gave her a small smile in return, one that held more than just affection-it held a kind of promise, a silent vow of devotion.

At that moment, It was just them. Just him and his Noor, standing in the sunlight, with her looking up at him like he was her whole world. And for Siddharth, that was more than enough.

Siddharth's blue eyes shone with warmth as he looked at her, the sunlight catching the edges of his raven-black glasses. He was still standing close, his presence firm and unyielding, and then slowly, with a tenderness that spoke of deep affection, he simply caressed her neck.

Noor's breath caught in her throat, the gentle touch sending warmth through her skin. It wasn't hurried; it wasn't rushed-it was gentle, careful, and filled with so much feeling that Noor's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

Before she could gather her thoughts, his hand slid down her arm, his fingertips brushing her skin with a feather-light touch, until he found her hand. His fingers intertwined with hers, the grip both protective and gentle, as if she was something fragile and precious. Noor looked down at their joined hands, her heart fluttering in her chest, the world around them blurring into nothingness.

Sidharth raised her hand slowly, his gaze never leaving her face, and then, with the same reverence he always showed her, he pressed a delicate kiss to the back of her hand.

Noor's cheeks burned a deeper red, and she found herself looking around, noticing for the first time the eyes of students lingering on them-but more specifically, on him. Her gaze traveled back to her husband, and she noticed his white shirt, simple but clinging to him perfectly.

Today, for some reason, it looked even better on him, almost like it was made just for him.

A strange feeling tugged at her heart as she watched those lingering eyes. It wasn't anger, it wasn't sadness... it was something soft yet sharp, something that prickled her heart just a little.

Noor bit her lip and glanced away, her fingers curling slightly in Siddharth's hold. She didn't understand what it was, but it made her look back at her husband with a new sort of awareness.

"Sab dekh rahe hai aapko," she whispered softly, her voice almost getting lost in the gentle breeze.

(Everyone is watching you.)

Hearing her words, Sidharth lowered their hands but did not let go. He began to walk toward the car, still holding her hand in his. His steps were confident, his grip on her gentle yet firm. Noor followed alongside him, her heart still fluttering from his simple gestures. He looked at her, his eyes softening as he gave her a small smile.

"Aur mai aapko."

(And I am watching you.)

Noor looked down at her feet, her cheeks flushing again at his open flirting. It wasn't s new to her-the way he so openly admired her, the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world but still it makes her feel special.

When they reached the car, Sidharth opened the door for her with a gentlemanly grace, and she settled into the seat. Her dupatta slipped slightly as she sat, Siddharth leaned down, picking it up carefully. He placed it on her lap, his hands gentle and respectful.

His fingers traced along the edge, brushing against her hairline as if tucking stray strands back into place, though there were none.

His gaze softened, and a smile that was both loving and possessive played on his lips. "In sab ki nazre mujhe pe aake bhale ruki ho, par Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan ki nazro ki apni Noor pe thehar ke hi sukoon aata hai."

(Even if everyone's eyes stop at me, Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan's eyes only find peace when resting on his Noor.)

Siddharth leaned forward, his hand still resting on hers, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm, his lips warm and tender against her skin. It was like he couldn't get enough.

Noor's heart thudded at his words, her cheeks blazing with color as she looked back up at him. His eyes were still locked onto hers, unblinking and unwavering, and when he finally stepped back and closed her door, her eyes stayed on him through the glass.

Even with the door between them, Sidharth's gaze never wavered. He smiled at her softly, the kind of smile that seemed reserved only for her. It was the same look that always made her feel safe and loved, like she was the only one in his entire world.

Sidharth circled around the car, and when he settled into the driver's seat, his hand found hers once more, his fingers easily entwining with hers. He started the car, but his eyes flicked to her again, as if he couldn't quite look away. Gently, he lifted her hand, pressing another soft kiss to her palm, the sound of her bangles tinkling lightly in the space between them.

Without thinking, Sidharth placed her hand against his cheek, leaning into it as if soaking up her presence. Noor giggled, her heart lighter than it had been all day. She shook her head slightly, unable to hide her smile.

"Aap aur aapki harkatein," she giggled, shaking her head.

(You and your antics.)

Siddharth smiled wider, his eyes shining with mischief. He leaned in a little, his cheek still pressed to her hand, and whispered softly, "Pyaari hai. Janta hu Noor ji."

(You are lovely. I know, Noor ji.)

Noor giggled more, shaking her head as if she couldn't quite understand this man who made her heart race so effortlessly. But when she looked ahead, her hand still pressed to his cheek, she felt it-the safety, the warmth, the love that only he could give her. And in that moment, with their hands entwined and his eyes still on her, she knew this was home.

.

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Siddharth parked the car smoothly in front of the grand entrance, the afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the stone walls. Noor unlatched her seatbelt, reaching for the handle as Siddharth did the same. She stepped out, adjusting her dupatta over her shoulder, and her eyes flickered to him as he rounded the car, his strides long and confident.

"Wapas hospital nahi jaana aapko?" Noor asked, her voice soft and curious.

(Don't you have to go back to the hospital?)

Sidharth, who was now standing right beside her, shook his head lightly. His eyes were gentle as he reached out, taking her hand in his. "Aaj ki saari appointments subha hi thi," he replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

(All of today's appointments were in the morning.)

Noor nodded at his words, her fingers still laced with his. Together, they began walking toward the entrance. Noor noticed how still everything seemed; only a few workers moved around, dusting and sweeping in silence. Afternoon rest time, she thought. Everyone must be in their rooms.

As they stepped into the hallway, the coolness of the marble greeted them. Noor paused, her eyes glancing down the hall. She gently slipped her hand from Sidharth's grip and took a step back, ready to head toward the inner part of the house. But before she could go, Siddharth reached out, his warm fingers curling around her wrist. Noor stopped and looked up at him, her eyes questioning.

Siddharth raised his eyebrows slightly, his hand making a small gesture, silently asking where she was going. Noor smiled softly, tilting her head. "Ma ko bata ke aate hai ki hum aagaye," she said, her voice gentle.

(Let me go tell Ma that we have arrived.)

Siddharth nodded, his eyes still on her. "Jaldi aayega. Mai wait kar raha hu," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

(Come back soon. I'll be waiting.)

He leaned in, his lips pressing softly against her temple, a kiss so tender it made her heart skip a beat. Her cheeks flared with warmth, a blush spreading as he pulled back. Even with the few workers bustling around, his gesture held no hesitation, no fear-just pure affection. Noor's eyes flickered down, shy but pleased.

Sidharth released her hand, his fingers slipping away gently, and Noor turned, heading down the hallway, her heart still fluttering from his touch. The soft sounds of footsteps and distant whispers of the workers filled the air as she made her way.

.

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.Siddharth sat on the sofa, a file of patient reports open in front of him. His eyes kept drifting to the door, waiting for Noor to enter. It had been almost twenty-five minutes since they came back, and still, she hadn't come in. He glanced at his wristwatch and sighed.

He wanted to go downstairs, bring her back up himself, but he knew she was with his mother. He knew how much his mother loved Noor. Even if he was dying to be selfish right now, he also understood how precious it was for the two most important women in his life to spend time together. So, he waited, his heart impatient but his mind understanding.

Shaking his head, he tried to focus back on the file. "She'll be back in a few minutes," he whispered to himself, forcing his eyes back to the lines of medical records.

Just then, the door creaked open. His head snapped up, and there she was-Noor, standing with a big smile on her face. Her hair was down now, no longer tied back in a ponytail, and her dupatta hung loosely, one end over her shoulder and the other end draped over her arm. She carried a small tray with a cup of tea on it, her smile still glowing with traces of laughter.

Siddharth stood up & walked towards her. "Dijiye," he said softly, taking the tray from her hands and placing it gently on the table.

("Give it to me.")

Noor picked up the cup and held it out to him, her smile not fading. "Aapki chai," she said, her eyes shining.

("Your tea.")

Sidharth took the cup from her hands, his fingers brushing hers for a second longer than necessary. He smiled back at her, but then his eyes narrowed slightly. He looked at the tray and then back at her. "Aapki?" he asked, noticing there was only one cup.

("Yours?")

Noor smiled sheepishly. "Ma ke saath humne pi li," she replied.

("I had it with Ma.")

Siddharth nodded, the smile still lingering on his lips. He moved back to the sofa and sat down, then raised his hand towards her. His hand was open, inviting her to hold it. Noor stepped forward, placing her hand in his. He gently pulled her closer until she was standing right in front of him.

He looked up at her and said softly, "Baithiye."

("Sit.")

Noor shook her head. "Hum change kar lete hai," she replied, her voice gentle.

("I'll go change first.")

Siddharth nodded, but not before pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand. "Theek hai," he whispered, releasing her hand slowly.

("Okay.")

Noor stepped back, turning towards the washroom. Sidharth picked up the cup of tea, about to take a sip, when a mischievous idea sparked in his eyes. Noor was just about to close the bathroom door when he called out, "Noor, yaad hai theek se aapko?"

("Noor, are you sure you remember?")

Noor paused, looking back. "Kya?" she asked, confusion flickering across her face.

("What?")

Siddharth's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Ki chai mein cheeni daali hai, namak nahi?" he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

("That you put sugar in the tea, not salt?")

Noor's eyes widened. "Nahi, hume yaad hai humne chee--" she began, and then realization struck. "Siddharth ji!" she gasped, catching his playful smirk.

("No, I remember I put suga--Siddharth ji!")

Siddharth couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter, throwing his head back. Noor huffed, shutting the bathroom door with a loud thud. From inside, he could hear her murmuring, talking to herself, probably complaining about him.

Siddharth's laughter only grew stronger, his eyes sparkling with joy. Her little reactions always made his heart light up. For him, it was the sweetest kind of happiness.

.

.

.

.Noor was still murmuring to herself as she moved around the bathroom, her saree now neatly draped, but the annoyance still simmering on her face. Her soft voice mumbled with each step she took, "Hum inhe chai bana ke denge hi nahi ab. Jab dekho namak wali chai."

("I will not make tea for him anymore. Always the salty tea.")

Her brows knitted together in frustration, and her lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head while picking up the comb from the dresser. She ran it through her hair, taming the loose strands with quick strokes before gathering them into a simple braid.

Her voice was low, only loud enough for her own ears, but her frustration was evident. Her eyes glanced at the mirror, and she caught her reflection, frowning back at her. "Namak wali chai..." she muttered again, Her fingers worked through her hair with a practiced ease, taming it back into place.

She took a breath, straightened her sari, and tossed her braid back over her shoulder, feeling the weight of it settle along her back.

With a small huff, she moved toward the door. But the moment it creaked open, a gasp slipped past her lips, sharp and surprised, as she was lifted off her feet. The world spun for a brief moment before she realized she was cradled in Siddharth's arms, his strong hold firm yet gentle, his lips curved into that familiar, teasing smirk.

"Chhoriye hume," she protested, her hands pushing against his chest, though her voice was soft, almost breathless.

("Let me go.")

Sidharth's smirk only deepened as he carried her further inside, his steps steady and unhurried, savoring every moment she squirmed in his arms. He stopped just near the bed, his grip still firm, and leaned down just enough so his eyes met hers. The playful glint in his gaze hadn't faded. "Iss maamle mein kabhi aapki baat maani hai Cherry? Jo aaj maan lu?"

("In this matter, have I ever listened to you, Cherry? Why should I listen today?")

Her cheeks flared up at his reply and she looked away, crossing her arms defiantly even while still held in his grasp. He chuckled at her defiance, the sound rumbling through his chest, and finally, with the gentlest care, he set her down, positioning her on the bed so she sat with her back resting against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of her.

Noor watched him, her eyes flitting up to his face before she quickly looked away. She tried to get up, but he leaned in, his arms bracing on either side of her, caging her in. He stood tall, his hands resting just near her waist as he leaned over her, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Kahan ja rahi hain aap?"

("Where are you going?")

His voice was soft, yet it held the power to still her movements. Noor looked away, her lips pressing together in defiance.

Her voice was small but clear, dripping with annoyance,Noor's eyes darted away from his, her lips pursed in the same stubbornness that always made him smile. "

"Namak wali chai banane."

("To make salty tea.")

Siddharth chuckled, his smile growing wider.

"Par ab toh cheeni wali pi li maine."

("But I just had the sweet one.")

Noor, who had been stubbornly looking away, now turned her glare at him, her eyes sharp with irritation.

"Dobara pi lijiyega. Waise bhi aapko bohot yaad aati hai wo chai."

("Have it again. Anyway, you seem to miss that tea a lot.")

Sidharth's smile remained, his eyes softening with affection as he watched her struggle to stay angry.

"Aap denge toh hazaar baar pi lenge... par filhaal toh mujhe aapki godh mein sir rakh ke baatein karni hain."

("If you give it, I'll have it a thousand times... but for now, I just want to rest my head in your lap and talk.")

His voice softened, and without waiting for her response, he gently removed his hands, laying himself down on the bed. He parted her legs slightly and nestled himself in between, his head coming to rest on her chest. Noor's breath caught in her throat as he pulled her leg gently, draping it over his stomach.

Her cheeks flushed at the position, but she said nothing, her stubbornness still holding strong.

"Hume nahi karni."

("I don't want to talk.")

He took her hand gently, placing it in his hair, silently urging her to move her fingers through it

Noor knew exactly what he wanted, but she refused, her hands still and unmoving.

Siddharth shifted a little, lifting his gaze to look up at her, his eyes gleaming with warmth. He watched her turn her head away, and it made his heart swell. Watched her with a smile tugging at his lips. She was angry, yes, but she was adorable in her stubbornness.

He wanted to tease her more, but right now, all he wanted was to lay in her warmth, to talk to her, to hold her close.

His hand reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin.

"Acha, sorry... nahi bolunga," he whispered, a teasing glint in his eyes.

("Okay, sorry... I won't say it.")

Noor didn't respond, her lips pursed tighter. Siddharth chuckled, leaning up slightly to pinch her cheek again. "Sorry na yaar, Cherry... Dekhiye kitna pyaara lagta hoon sorry bolte waqt," he added, his voice soft and sincere, eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile.

("Sorry, Cherry... See how cute I look when I say sorry.")

He pouted playfully, his lower lip jutting out just enough to look utterly ridiculous.

Noor tried-she really tried-to keep her expression neutral, but the sight of him pouting so childishly broke her resolve. A laugh bubbled up from her chest, bright and pure, spilling into the room as she shook her head, unable to stop the giggles that followed.

Siddharth's smile widened, his eyes never leaving her face, soaking in every laugh, every smile, every sparkle in her eyes that made his world feel complete.

Noor's laughter lingered like the last notes of a sweet melody, soft and tender. Her hand was still pressed against her mouth, her cheeks flushed with the happiness that had just erupted from her soul.

Siddharth watched her with a gaze so soft, it was almost a whisper. His eyes traced the delicate lines of her face, memorizing the way her lashes fluttered when she laughed and the way her nose crinkled just slightly when she smiled too wide.

His thumb brushed her wrist gently, his eyes glimmering with affection that he couldn't hide even if he wanted to. Her leg still rested comfortably over his stomach, her soft pallu trailing over the sheets, pooling like silk around them. He reached for her hand, the one still covering her smile, and pulled it away gently, holding it against his chest, right above his heart.

"Kitni pyari lagti hai meri biwi haste waqt. Bematalab aap mujh pe gussa karti hain."

(How beautiful my wife looks when she laughs. You get angry at me for no reason.)

Noor's smile dimmed just slightly, but the mischief in her eyes didn't falter. She narrowed her eyes at him, playful and challenging, while Siddharth only grinned wider.

Like a child caught in the midst of a prank, he twinkled his eyes-opening, closing, opening, closing-trying to show himself cute. Noor's laugh returned, bright and full, spilling from her lips as if she couldn't help herself.

"Bache hain aap bilkul."

(You are just like a child.)

Sidharth's smile stretched wider, his eyes glimmering with warmth. His hand tightened gently around her wrist, his thumb tracing lazy circles over her skin as if memorizing its softness. Her leg was still draped over his stomach, a casual intimacy that spoke of comfort and familiarity.

His other hand reached up to brush a stray strand of hair away from her cheek, tucking it softly behind her ear. His eyes never left hers, and for a moment, the world outside their room didn't exist.

"Kaisa tha aapka din?" he asked, his voice soft and patient, as if he had been waiting all day just to ask her this.

(How was your day?)

Noor's gaze dropped to their entwined hands, her fingers brushing against his knuckles. Her lips curled into a soft smile, and without realizing it, her hand moved to his hair, fingertips grazing the softness of it. She began to speak, her voice light and airy, filled with a kind of joy that only came from sharing moments with someone who genuinely listened.

"Acha tha. Aaj sirf Economics aur History ki class thi. History wali ma'am bahut friendly thi, Economics wale sir thode ajeeb the, Dheer naam hai unka. Humein Principal sir ne unse notes lene bola par woh chale gaye jaldi. Kal le lenge hum. Pata hai wahan sab kitne friendly hain? Humne toka bhi nahi phir bhi humse baat ki. Hum bhi koshish karenge ki friends bana paaye."

(It was good. Today, there were only Economics and History classes. The History teacher was very friendly, but the Economics teacher was a bit strange. His name is Dheer. Principal Sir asked me to collect notes from him, but he left early. I'll get them tomorrow. You know, everyone there is so friendly? I didn't even try to talk, yet they still spoke to me. I'll also try to make some friends.)

Her words tumbled out like petals caught in a soft breeze, gentle and unhurried. Siddharth listened quietly, his hand still holding hers, his eyes never leaving her face. There was a light in her eyes as she spoke, a kind of openness that only came when she was comfortable. He watched her speak, memorizing every flicker of emotion that crossed her eyes.

When she finally paused, she looked down at him, her cheeks warm with excitement. Siddharth squeezed her hand softly, urging her to continue. "Aur bataye?"

(Tell me more?)

Noor's eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise in her gaze. "Khatam ho gaya hamara. Aapka kaisa tha?"

(I'm done. How was your day?)

Siddharth's voice softened, his eyes growing tender. "Aapke bina boring."

(Boring without you.)

Noor's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, her eyes dropping to the space between them. Her hand moved automatically, lightly tapping his chest as if scolding him for his words. Siddharth's laugh was soft, a mere whisper of happiness, but it filled the room nonetheless.

"Acha, ab hatiye. Lunch ka dekhein kuch hum," she said gently, though her voice held a note of firmness.

(Okay, now move. I need to look at lunch arrangements.)

Siddharth's brow furrowed, his hand still resting over hers. "Kyun? Neeche kyun jaaengi? Baki Log dekh lenge ."

(Why? Why will you go downstairs? Others will see)

Noor shook her head, strands of her hair swaying gently. "Hum toh free hi hain na ab."

(I'm free now, aren't I?)

Sidharth's hold on her wrist tightened just a little, his eyes glimmering with affection. "Aaram kar lijiye thoda, Noor. Thak gayi hongi."

(Rest for a while, Noor. You must be tired.)

Noor looked at him for a long moment, her eyes softening just a little before she shook her head. "Hum nahi thake hain. Ab hatiye."

(I'm not tired. Now move.)

Siddharth sighed, the corners of his mouth curling up. "Koi baat nahi, aayiye mujhe sula dijiye. Main toh thak gaya."

(It's fine, come, put me to sleep. I'm tired.)

Noor's eyes narrowed just a little. "Thak gaye?"

(You're tired?)

Sidharth began to shift slightly, ready to move beside her when Noor's eyes sparkled with mischief suddenly

"Kahin aap budhe toh nahi ho rahe, Siddharth ji?"

(Are you getting old, Siddharth ji?)

Siddharth froze, his expression one of sheer disbelief. Noor's laughter burst out, her voice ringing through the room, filling it with joy.

Siddharth stayed still when he heard her. His eyes blinked once, as if trying to process the word she just uttered. "Budha?" he muttered in utter disbelief.

("Old?")

Noor, acting all cool, shrugged casually. "Haan, dopahar ke 3 bje hai aur aap thak gaye."

("Yes, it's 3 in the afternoon, and you're already tired.")

Siddharth narrowed his eyes, his lips curving just slightly. Before Noor could even blink, Siddharth lifted himself up a little, his movements swift and sudden. She didn't even have a chance to understand what was happening when she felt his strong hands wrap around her thighs.

In one smooth motion, Sidharth pulled her down, dragging her beneath him.

Her gasp filled the room, her eyes going wide as she suddenly found herself caged under him. Sidharth was leaning over her, his hands pressed firmly on either side of her, framing her head. His gaze was steady, blinking just once as he looked down at her, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. He leaned just a little closer, his breath mingling with hers.

"Lagta hai meri biwi ko kuch galat fehmi ho gayi hai," he murmured, his voice dripping with a playful threat. "Koi baat nahi. Mai demo de deta hu apni taqat ka. Aap khud batayega, Noor...budha ho gaya hu ya ab bhi jawan hu?"

("It seems my wife is having some misunderstanding. No worries. I'll give a little demonstration of my strength. You'll tell me yourself, Noor...am I old, or still young?")

A blush exploded on Noor's cheeks at the double meaning of his words. Her eyes darted to his, searching for some sign that he was just teasing, but there was none. He was utterly serious. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she could barely manage to breathe as Siddharth's hands, which were caging her, slowly moved towards her neck.

The sensation of his touch, sliding gently from her collarbone up to her neck, sent sparks shooting through her. Her eyes snapped up to him, wide and stunned. But Siddharth's gaze never wavered. He leaned down, his eyes fixed on hers, and then-his lips pressed hard against hers.

The kiss was fierce and consuming. His lips moved over hers with a possessive need, demanding a response that she couldn't hold back. She gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively clutching at his shoulders, feeling the solid strength beneath her fingertips. Siddharth's hands cupped her face, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, coaxing her into the rhythm.

His teeth gently nipped at her lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from her, and he took advantage of it, exploring her mouth with a hunger that left her breathless. Her mind was spinning, the world fading away until there was nothing but him, his lips, his warmth, the way he held her like she belonged to him entirely.

Her hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the strands, pulling him even closer. His response was immediate, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he kissed her deeper, slower, like he wanted to savor every moment of it. Time slipped away; there was just the taste of him, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, and the soft sighs that slipped from her lips.

When he finally pulled back, their breaths mingling, Siddharth rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as if savoring the moment. Noor's cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from the kiss, and her chest heaved with every breath she took. Siddharth smiled, a slow, lazy grin that spoke volumes.

"Ab bataiye, Noor...budha ho gaya hu ya ab bhi jawan hu?"

("Now tell me, Noor...am I old, or still young?")

Noor could only blink up at him, her mind still reeling, her heart racing like it would leap out of her chest. But even in her daze, she could feel the blush spread across her cheeks, a response that spoke louder than words.

Noor blinked, her mind slowly catching up with what had just happened. Her cheeks burned with a warm blush as she struggled to push him off, her hands pressing against his chest. "Hatiye," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

(Move aside)

Siddharth only chuckled, his hand capturing her delicate wrist, the one that tried to push him away. His fingers wrapped around it gently, holding it in place as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Pehle mere sawal ka jawab to dijea," he said, his voice teasingly soft.

(First, answer my question)

Noor's blush deepened, her face fully flushed now, and she tried once again to push him off, but his grip remained firm. Siddharth's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Before she could even think of a response, he leaned down again, his lips brushing hers just for a second, a mere whisper of a kiss. His hand slid down her side, catching her wrist once more, pinning it beside her as he hovered above her, the sunlight filtering through the curtains casting golden shadows on their faces.

Noor, stunned by his sudden movement, gathered all her strength and pushed him with a surprising force, sending Siddharth rolling off the bed.

He landed with a soft thud, his laughter filling the room as Noor scrambled up, her cheeks blazing with heat. She refused to look at him, her fingers quickly fixing her saree as she mumbled under her breath, "Bilkul besharam ho chuke hai aap. Din me ye sab karte hai."

(You have become completely shameless. Doing all this in the daytime.)

Sidharth's grin only widened, his eyes following her as she hurried toward the door. She knew he was coming after her even before she heard his footsteps. Her fingers had just wrapped around the doorknob when his voice rang out, "Are par apne hi to budha bola."

(But you were the one who called me old.)

Noor paused, her hand still on the door, and she took two or three quick steps into the hallway, determined to escape his teasing. Her heart raced, cheeks still red, and her mind filled with his laughter and the warmth of his touch. She tried to calm herself, but it was impossible. She was too aware of him, of his presence lingering just behind her.

Before she could process her next step, strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground. Noor gasped, her hands instinctively clutching his shoulders as Siddharth picked her up with ease. All her flustered thoughts evaporated the moment she saw his face. His blue eyes were darker now, brimming with something unspoken, something she recognized immediately. Her heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze.

"Aur galat sabit karne ka mauka bhi nahi de rahi," he whispered, his voice deeper, the playfulness replaced with something more profound.

(And you aren't even giving me a chance to prove you wrong.)

Noor's lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyes darted around, scanning the hallway nervously. "B-bhuk lagi hai hume," she stammered, looking everywhere but at him, cheeks still flushed.

(I-I am hungry)

Siddharth's eyes gleamed with amusement, his hold on her unyielding as he began walking back toward their room. She blinked, surprised, her hands still clutching his shoulders. He reached the doorway and looked down at her, his gaze softening. "Mujhe bhi lagi hai," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

(I am hungry too)

Her eyes widened as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with his foot. Noor's heart pounded, her gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "C-Chaliye niche, kuch b-bana dete hai hum," she offered, her voice small, eyes hopeful.

(Let's go downstairs; I can make something.)

Siddharth just smiled, the kind that made her knees weak. He carried her toward the bed, each step slow and deliberate. Noor's breath hitched, her heart hammering as she realized he had no intention of going downstairs.

She shivered slightly under his gaze, her cheeks blooming with color. Her mind raced with thoughts of propriety, of the time of day, of what the others would think. But all of it melted away when Siddharth's eyes met hers.

"Chalenge. Par filhaal, mujhe apko ache se demo dene ki bhook hai," he whispered, his voice rougher now, his eyes never leaving hers.

(We will. But for now, I am hungry to give you a proper demonstration.)

Noor barely had time to react before he laid her gently on the bed, his hands steady as he moved above her. Her breath caught, eyes widening slightly, and she felt the warmth of his palms on her cheeks. Siddharth leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to the tip of her nose, then her jaw, his lips featherlight.

Noor's eyes fluttered closed, her hands instinctively clutching his shirt. "S-Siddharth ji... Din hai abhi," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

(It's still daytime)

Siddharth paused, his eyes lifting to hers with a gentle smile, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "Hmm, matlab jyada time milega hum dono ko," he whispered, his smile widening as her eyes went wide in surprise.

(Hmm, that means we will have more time to ourselves.)

Noor's breath came in soft pants as she looked away, still too shy to meet his gaze. Her cheeks were painted a deep shade of red, and Siddharth watched her with a small smile, his eyes tender and patient. His thumb gently brushed against her cheek, coaxing her to look back at him. When she finally did, her eyes held a mixture of hesitation and something else-something she couldn't quite name.

Siddharth leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he asked, "Can I, Cherry?"

Noor's eyes widened slightly at his question. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and her breath hitched. He was waiting for her, his gaze soft but firm, showing that he wouldn't move forward without her nod. Noor blinked, her lashes fluttering, and then she looked away again, biting her lower lip. Her mind was running wild, thoughts swirling in a haze of emotions and longing.

Siddharth's fingers brushed along her cheek, his touch featherlight, bringing her back to the moment. He was still waiting. Noor swallowed hard, and then, gathering all the courage she had, she slowly looked back up into his eyes. His expression was patient, kind, filled with affection that made her heart swell.

Her eyes softened, and she gave him the slightest nod-just enough for him to understand. A slow smile spread across Siddharth's lips, one filled with relief and adoration. He leaned down, his lips capturing hers with a softness that spoke of care and unspoken promises. Noor's eyes fluttered shut, her hands clutching onto his shoulders as if grounding herself in the sensation.

He kissed her deeply, patiently, as if savoring every second. Noor melted beneath his touch, her heart swelling with warmth. His hands cradled her face, his thumbs brushing away the strands of hair that clung to her flushed cheeks. She could feel his breath against her skin, warm and tender, and it made her toes curl.

The world outside faded, leaving just the two of them in that tender moment, bound by the simplicity of a question and the honesty of her answer.

Siddharth deepened the kiss just a bit more, his lips moving gently against hers, and she responded with equal softness, feeling her own heart mirror his rhythm.

It was slow. It was tender. It was theirs.

Siddharth's lips pulled away just slightly, the warmth of the kiss still lingering between them. His eyes remained locked with hers, searching her gaze for the emotions that danced quietly in her eyes. He leaned back in, pressing soft, tender kisses thrice on the tip of her nose, each one slower and more delicate than the last, as if savoring the closeness. Noor's eyes fluttered closed at the softness of his touch, a shy smile playing on her lips.

His hand, firm yet gentle, slid down her side, resting at her waist, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles over the thin fabric of her saree. Noor's breath hitched, her fingers curling slightly against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His touch grew more confident as his hand moved upward, skimming over her waist and coming to rest against the curve of her chest. Noor's breath caught in her throat, her body arching slightly into his touch. His hand was gentle but firm, his palm pressing against her breast over her blouse. He massaged her softly, his thumb grazing over the fabric-covered peak, sending small shivers down her spine.

Siddharth's gaze flickered to her face, watching the slight parting of her lips, the way her cheeks flushed with each touch.

With unhurried grace, Siddharth dipped his head, his lips trailing along the line of her jaw, lingering at her pulse where it beat steadily beneath his touch. Noor shivered, her eyes fluttering shut as warmth spread through her veins. His kisses traveled downward, pressing against her neck, soft and lingering, then further to her collarbone where he placed a tender kiss that left her breathless.

His hand remained where it was, gentle but firm, his thumb brushing in slow circles that left her gasping softly. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his expression a mixture of tenderness and longing. He seemed to drink in her features, like he wanted to remember this moment, the way she looked beneath him-flushed, vulnerable, and impossibly beautiful.

Without breaking eye contact, Siddharth's hand traced the delicate line of her blouse, his fingertips brushing over the tiny hook at the front. Then, with a tenderness that spoke of knowing her well, his fingers slipped to the front of her blouse.

He paused, his eyes searching hers, giving her a moment to stop him if she wanted. Noor's gaze softened, her cheeks blooming with warmth, but she didn't stop him. Instead, her hands slipped around his back, pulling him closer.

Siddharth's fingers worked with practiced care, unhooking the tiny clasp.

The soft fabric gave way, and her breath hitched, eyes falling shut as her chest rose and fell steadily beneath his gaze. Siddharth's eyes darkened with unspoken emotion, his fingertips grazing her bare skin, sending shivers that rippled down her spine. Noor loved the way he looked at her-so completely, so intently, as if she were the only thing that mattered.

He lowered his head, pressing gentle, reverent kisses along the swell of her breast, his lips warm and patient. His hand cradled her side, holding her steady, grounding her to the moment as his lips continued their tender exploration. Noor's hands gripped onto him, soft sighs escaping her lips, filling the room with the quiet whisper of affection.

His lips moved lower, pressing a tender kiss at the swell of her breast. Noor shivered, her hands tightening on his shoulders. His hand moved back to her chest, this time with nothing between them but the softness of her skin. He leaned down, his breath hot against her, and his lips brushed over the peak of her breast, still covered by her bra. Noor gasped, her back arching slightly as he kissed her there, the warmth of his mouth seeping through the fabric.

He was slow and deliberate, pressing soft, lingering kisses over her, his hand still caressing her gently. Noor's breath grew heavy, soft gasps escaping her lips as Siddharth's mouth continued its gentle exploration. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin above the lace trim of her bra, and he leaned down, his mouth pressing firmly against her nipple through the fabric. Noor's breath hitched, and a soft moan slipped past her lips, unbidden and unrestrained.

Siddharth paused for just a moment, his eyes flickering up to meet hers, as if savoring the sound she made. His gaze was dark, intense, filled with a longing that made Noor's heart stutter. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved with deliberate care, slipping beneath the strap of her bra and easing it down her shoulder. His lips followed, kissing the path his fingers made, slow and unhurried.

His movements were gentle yet firm, a mix of tenderness and dominance that left Noor breathless. She felt his hand move behind her, his fingers expertly finding the clasp of her bra, and with a soft click, the tension eased. He pulled the fabric away, baring her completely to his gaze.

For a moment, he simply looked at her, his eyes filled with reverence and longing. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin gently. "Sundar," he murmured softly, his voice heavy with emotion. (Beautiful)

Siddharth leaned back down, his mouth covering her breast, his lips pressing warm, lingering kisses as if savoring every moment.

His hand moved up, cradling her waist, pulling her closer to him, his touch both protective and possessive. Noor's breathing grew uneven, her fingers weaving into his hair as he continued his tender exploration, each touch a reminder of how much he cherished her.

The room was filled with soft gasps and whispers, the quiet intimacy stretching between them as Siddharth continued, his touch steady and reassuring, his love evident in every motion.

Siddharth's gaze darkened with raw desire as he took in the sight of her, vulnerable and beautiful beneath him. His hands caressed her bare skin, fingertips trailing delicate patterns along her waist, teasing the sensitive curves of her sides. His lips found their way back to her breast, capturing the soft peak between his lips, sucking gently before his tongue swirled in slow, languid motions.

Noor's breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her parted lips as his touch grew bolder. He kissed her tenderly, savoring the warmth and softness of her skin, his lips pressing gentle yet possessive kisses all over the swell of her breast. His hands, firm yet tender, cupped her flesh, kneading gently as if he couldn't get enough of her. His mouth followed, trailing kisses from the peak to the softness below, his tongue flicking against her skin before his teeth grazed lightly, sending sparks of sensation rushing through her.

He pulled back just a little, his eyes meeting hers, filled with an intensity that made her heart flutter. His mouth moved back, capturing her nipple once more, sucking deeply, as if he were claiming her. Noor's fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as her body arched towards him instinctively.

His hands began to wander, one staying firm at her breast, his thumb brushing over her sensitive skin in slow circles, while the other trailed down her stomach. His fingers danced lightly around her navel, teasing and tracing soft patterns that sent shivers racing through her. She bit her lip, eyes fluttering closed as he continued his gentle assault, his touch making her body come alive with sensation.

Siddharth's kisses grew hungrier, his mouth moving from one breast to the other, not leaving an inch untouched. He kissed, sucked, and nipped, each action drawing soft gasps from her lips. His hand at her navel pressed a little more firmly, his thumb circling the sensitive spot as his mouth continued its path, worshipping every part of her. Noor's fingers gripped his shoulders, her breath coming faster, her cheeks flushed as his mouth and hands explored her so thoroughly.

There was something about the way he touched her-like she was precious, like she was everything. And in that moment, Noor knew she was lost to him completely.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes burning with unspoken emotion.

"Aapki saansein tez ho rahi hain, Noor," he whispered, voice rough with desire. (Your breaths are getting quicker, Noor.)

Her eyes met his, her lips parting slightly as she tried to find her voice, but nothing came. Siddharth leaned down, capturing her mouth with his once more, his hands never stopping their gentle exploration, pulling her deeper into the warmth of his embrace.

Siddharth's mouth lingered over Noor's soft skin, his lips trailing slow, reverent kisses along the gentle curves of her body. His touch was unhurried, savoring every tremor of her breath, every flutter of her lashes as his lips worshipped her. He shifted slightly, his weight pressing down just enough for her to feel secure beneath him.

His hand drifted lower, fingertips dancing along the delicate curve of her waist. Noor's breath hitched as he gently lifted the edge of her saree, folding it messily over her waist, his movements patient, almost tender, as if unwrapping something precious.

The sunlight trickled softly through the closed curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, golden rays kissing their intertwined bodies.

It was mid-afternoon, yet here they were, tangled in sheets and whispers, unbothered by the hours slipping by. Siddharth's fingers grazed her navel, slow, teasing strokes that sent a ripple of sensation through her, making her eyes close instinctively. His touch lingered, his thumb circling her navel, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.

Noor's cheeks flushed as his hand slipped lower, his fingertips grazing the delicate lace of her undergarment, a gentle brush that left her shivering. Her hands clutched the sheets, knuckles turning white with the sensation spreading through her.

Siddharth's eyes never left her face, studying each flicker of emotion, each breath that left her parted lips. His fingers dipped slightly, pressing softly over her, eliciting a soft gasp from Noor, her eyes snapping open to meet his. His gaze was molten, filled with reverence and something deeper-something primal.

He pressed gentle circles against her, his movements steady, unhurried, drinking in the way her body responded to his touch.

As he continued, Siddharth leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, lingering kiss. His hand remained where it was, teasing, coaxing soft whimpers from her lips that he swallowed with each kiss. Noor's hands found his shoulders, her fingers curling into the muscles there, holding him close as his lips mapped out hers with slow precision.

When Siddharth pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with hers, his hand still moving against her, he met her gaze, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. "You are doing so well, Noor," he murmured softly against her lips.

Her cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn't shy away, her gaze holding his with a boldness that surprised even her. Siddharth watched her for a moment longer before leaning back slightly. His hands slipped from her body, and he began to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving hers. Noor's breath grew shallow as he peeled the fabric away from his skin, revealing the defined lines of his chest, the light sheen of sweat that glistened under the sunlight's touch.

Her heart pounded as he moved to his belt, the clink of metal soft in the heavy silence of the room. Noor's eyes darted away for a moment, her cheeks aflame, but she couldn't help but steal a glance back, her gaze lingering on the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell steadily. Sunlight spilled over him, catching the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, the muscles that flexed with each movement.

Her breath shuddered, and she found herself unable to look away, mesmerized by the sight of him. He looked...majestic. Like he was carved from the very sunlight that bathed the room, powerful and unyielding, yet soft and tender in his touch. Noor's body trembled as she felt his fingers move against her again, coaxing out soft gasps from her lips as her hands curled tighter into the sheets.

Her heart hammered in her chest, and she barely noticed the way her eyes grew heavy, lids fluttering with each wave of sensation that washed over her.

Siddharth's eyes darkened with an intensity that sent a shiver down Noor's spine. His hand, gentle yet firm, lifted her delicate leg and rested it over his shoulder, making her payal make sound. his warm palm smoothing along the curve of her calf, pressing gently into her skin. Noor's breath hitched, her eyes fluttering as his lips grazed the softness of her toes.

He held her ankle tenderly, almost reverently, his lips pressing delicate kisses on each toe, his breath warm and steady. Siddharth's lips lingered there, his kisses slow and deliberate, as if savoring every inch of her skin. His thumb stroked her arch, massaging lightly as his lips traveled further, exploring with a patience that sent ripples of warmth through her.

Noor's fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, her cheeks flushed with crimson as Siddharth continued, his lips now moving up her leg, placing tender kisses along the curve of her calf, then the inside of her knee.

A soft gasp escaped Noor's lips when he kissed the back of her knee, a place so tender and untouched that it sent a tremor through her body. Siddharth's mouth curved into a smirk at her reaction, his hands moving up slowly, fingers grazing her thighs. He didn't rush, letting the anticipation build, his kisses growing more fervent, his touch more possessive.

His gaze flickered up to hers, dark and unyielding, before returning to the path he was mapping with his lips.

His hands, strong and gentle, traced over her thighs, squeezing softly, sending a surge of warmth through her veins. She felt his lips brush over her skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Noor's breath grew shallow, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest as Siddharth kissed higher, his hands caressing the curve of her hips, grounding her to the moment.

Siddharth's mouth found its way to her inner thigh, and Noor's eyes closed, her hands clenching tighter as warmth spread through her. He kissed her there, soft and lingering, pressing his lips gently against her skin. She felt his breath fanning over her core, even through the thin fabric of her panties, and a gasp escaped her lips, sharp and breathless.

"A-Aarth..." Noor whispered, her voice trembling, the name slipping out in a whisper, almost involuntarily. Siddharth's eyes lifted to hers, catching the vulnerability and raw emotion in her gaze. He smiled-soft, almost predatory-and without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head, brushing his lips over her clothed core.

The sensation made Noor's entire body tense and then melt, her back arching slightly as Siddharth pressed a lingering kiss right over her, his breath hot and steady against the delicate fabric. His hands held her hips firmly, keeping her grounded, as his mouth began moving gently over her, his lips and tongue teasing, coaxing her body to respond.

When his lips finally reached the fabric of her panties, he paused, pressing a soft kiss right over her core, his eyes flickering up to meet hers. Noor's breath hitched, her eyes half-closed with anticipation. Siddharth didn't pull back; instead, he pressed his mouth firmly against her through the thin cloth, his tongue flicking out to taste her even through the barrier. Noor's fingers tightened around the sheets, her head tipping back as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Aarth," she whispered breathlessly, the sound barely above a whisper but heavy with longing.

Noor's breathing grew heavier, her fingers releasing the sheets only to grip them again. Her body felt like it was on fire, and yet every touch of Siddharth's lips brought comfort, safety, and something far deeper-an unspoken promise, a devotion that words couldn't convey.

He continued his gentle worship, his kisses soft but unyielding, his hands steady and firm, as if assuring her he wasn't going anywhere. Her breaths came out in soft gasps, and his name fell from her lips in whispers, sweet and breathless. Siddharth's hands stroked her thighs, grounding her, as he pressed his mouth against her again, deeper, more demanding, pulling soft cries from her.

The sunlight slipped through the curtains, casting a soft glow across their intertwined forms. It was midday, the world outside moving at its own pace, but here-in this room-time seemed to still, bending only for them. His hands slipped beneath her saree, his fingers skimming the delicate lace of her panties, his touch gentle yet searing. Siddharth's mouth continued its tender exploration, leaving Noor breathless and trembling beneath him.

He paused for a heartbeat, his eyes lifting to hers, searching for any sign of hesitation. All he found was trust, warmth, and longing, and that was all the permission he needed. His lips pressed against her once more, reverently, tenderly, as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Siddharth's devotion was evident in every touch, every caress, every press of his lips against her. Noor's heart swelled, her fingers releasing their grip on the sheets to thread through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him nearer, always nearer.

Siddharth's warm breath traced the delicate lines of her inner thighs, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made Noor's body shiver beneath his touch. He lingered there, his lips pressing gentle, lingering pecks that grew more intense with every passing second. Noor's breaths grew shallow, her fingers gripping the sheets as she felt the warmth of his mouth moving lower, inch by inch, igniting every nerve he touched.

The sound of his name on her lips only seemed to spur him on. His hands slid under her, lifting her slightly as his mouth continued its gentle assault, pressing and sucking with deliberate slowness. Noor's hips arched instinctively, her body responding to the rhythm he set, her breathing coming in ragged, unsteady waves. Siddharth didn't let up; his hands held her steady, his mouth working in soft, lingering strokes that sent her spiraling deeper into the sensation.

He pulled back for just a moment, his eyes catching hers as he murmured, "Cherry" His voice was a low whisper, filled with something raw and possessive that sent a shiver down her spine. Noor's eyes fluttered shut, her body surrendering completely to his touch, to the way he worshipped every inch of her with a tenderness that was both overwhelming and comforting.

He didn't rush-Siddharth took his time, his lips and hands exploring, caressing, and claiming her in a way that left Noor breathless, her body trembling under the weight of his affection.

The room was silent except for the sound of their breaths mingling, the light filtering softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the two of them as they shared that tender, intimate moment. Siddharth's eyes never left her face, watching every reaction, every sigh, and every flutter of her eyelids with a look of pure devotion.

Siddharth's hands trembled slightly as he slid her panties to the side, exposing her to him completely. His gaze softened, darkened with longing and reverence. He paused for a moment, his breath mingling with hers, allowing the anticipation to build, letting Noor feel every second of his presence and his touch.

Noor's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, her breath uneven as she lay vulnerable beneath him. Siddharth's hands caressed her thighs, firm yet gentle, his touch warm and grounding. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing delicate kisses along her inner thighs, inching closer, drawing out the sensation with agonizing slowness. Each kiss sent tiny sparks dancing across her skin, pooling warmth in her core.

His mouth hovered just above her, breath hot and heavy against her. Noor's eyes fluttered shut, anticipation knotting her stomach, and her hands clenched the sheets beside her. Siddharth's fingers gripped her thighs a little tighter, pulling her closer, and then his lips pressed a feather-light kiss against her bare core.

A soft gasp escaped her lips, her back arching slightly off the bed. Siddharth's eyes flickered up, catching the way her brows knitted together, the way her lips parted with each shaky breath. He smiled against her, a trace of satisfaction glimmering in his eyes. Slowly, he began to trace his mouth over her, tasting her, worshipping her. His tongue moved with a deliberate, languid rhythm, savoring every reaction, every soft moan that spilled from her lips.

Noor's fingers found their way to his hair, tangling there, holding him closer. Her breath grew more ragged, her body responding instinctively to his touch. Siddharth's hands slid beneath her, holding her firmly in place as his mouth worked her tenderly, his tongue exploring, pressing, caressing.

Her name slipped from his lips between kisses, murmured like a prayer. "Noor..." His voice was husky, thick with desire. The sound of her name on his tongue sent shivers down her spine, and she gripped him tighter, her heart thundering in her chest.

Time seemed to blur, stretching out with each flick of his tongue, each soft press of his lips. Siddharth's touch remained reverent, gentle yet purposeful, driving her closer and closer to the edge with every calculated movement. Noor's breaths came faster, her body arching towards him, and he responded with a soft hum of approval, his hands steadying her, grounding her as he continued.

Her eyes squeezed shut, and a broken whisper of his name tumbled from her lips, "Aarth...Ahh" The sound spurred him on, his movements growing more deliberate, more consuming. Siddharth's mouth remained patient, unhurried, focused solely on unraveling her completely.

It was gentle and consuming, intimate and deep, building with each lingering kiss, each brush of his tongue, until all Noor could feel was him-only him.

His lips followed, pressing gentle, lingering kisses on her bare core. Every touch was slow, teasing, as he kissed and sucked her sensitive skin, making her breath hitch and her body tremble.

His tongue flicked softly, sending shivers through her. Noor's hands gripped the sheets, her breath growing heavier, her moans escaping freely. "Aarth..." she whispered his name, her voice shaky but full of need.

Then, without breaking the rhythm, Siddharth slid one finger inside her, slow and sure. He moved with purpose, curling and pressing in ways that made her gasp. The pleasure built quickly, spreading through her like warm fire. Her body arched involuntarily, calling out his name louder as waves of release rolled over her.

Even after she came, her body still trembling, Siddharth did not stop. He kept his lips and tongue pressed against her core, lapping over her with tender care, savoring every sound she made. His fingers moved gently inside her, coaxing more soft whimpers and quiet moans, holding her in the deep connection of their shared moment.

Siddharth slowly pulled back, his breath warm against Noor's skin. He looked down at her-her chest rising and falling, cheeks flushed, eyes half-closed. There was a quiet fire in her gaze that made his heart beat faster.

Gently, he licked his lower lips, a soft, tender yet intimate motion that held so much meaning. It was like a silent promise-he was hers, completely.

Then, with careful hands, he unbuttoned his pants. The cool air brushed against his skin as he freed himself. He didn't rush. Instead, he pressed the head of his member against her wet core, feeling how ready she was. Slowly, he rubbed himself over her softness, making her shiver under his touch. Every movement was slow and full of control-he wanted to take care of her.

"You ready Noor?" HI voice heavy with emotion as he asked.

Noor's breath hitched. Her fingers curled into the sheets, her whole body trembling with need. She looked up at him, eyes filled with trust and desire, ready to follow wherever he led. And she nod.

Then, with steady power, Siddharth pushed himself inside her. The feeling was deep and full, stretching and filling her completely. Noor gasped, the newness of it overwhelming, but there was no pain-only a hot, burning pleasure that spread through her. Siddharth held himself still for a moment, letting them both adjust, his hand resting protectively on her waist.

Slowly, he began to move-deep, sure strokes that made Noor's body arch and tremble. His rhythm was steady and strong, showing how much he wanted her but also how much he respected her limits. Noor's breath came faster, soft moans escaping her lips as she surrendered to the sensation.

He leaned down, kissing her softly, his voice low and gentle but firm.

Noor's heart swelled at his words. She felt safe, loved, and completely his. Her hands moved up to his back, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. She was his-submissive to his strength, yet full of her own fire.

The room was filled with their soft sounds-breaths, whispers, moans-each moment slow and burning with passion. Siddharth's eyes never left hers, full of love and desire, as he continued, showing her how much he cherished her with every movement.

Siddharth moved inside Noor slowly, feeling every inch of her warmth as if he wanted to memorize the way she wrapped around him. In &.Out with slow pace

His eyes stayed locked on hers, deep and unwavering, as if speaking a thousand unsaid words. His hands roamed her body, fingertips gliding over her soft skin, caressing her curves with a tenderness that made her heart thud wildly in her chest.

His mouth found her breast again, his lips pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the swell before gently sucking on her nipple. Noor's breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that seemed to echo in the silent room. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close as his tongue traced over the sensitive bud. He moved with a slow, deliberate pace, tasting and savoring every inch of her, his tongue flicking and swirling in a rhythm that made her toes curl.

Siddharth's hand slid down her body, strong and steady, as if mapping out each curve, each dip of her waist. Without breaking the rhythm of his thrusts, he reached down and lifted her leg, draping it over his shoulder.

The movement pushed him deeper, faster inside her, drawing a soft, breathless moan from Noor's parted lips. Her back arched instinctively, pressing her body tighter against his as he filled her completely.

The position gave him more control, and he took full advantage of it. His hips moved in slow, deep strokes that left Noor gasping beneath him. Every inch he gave her, he pulled back just as slowly, dragging out the feeling, stretching the tension between them like a taut string. Her hands found their way to his back, her nails digging into his skin, marking him with her need. The light scratches only urged him on, his movements growing just slightly rougher, more intense.

Her other hand gripped the gold chain around his neck, fingers curling around the cool metal as if anchoring herself to him. Siddharth's eyes flickered with something dark and possessive as he watched her cling to him. His hand moved down between them, his fingertips finding her swollen, sensitive nub. He rubbed slow, gentle circles at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Noor's breath came quicker, her chest rising and falling as waves of pleasure coursed through her.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, his breath warm and heavy. Their mouths met in a fierce, heated kiss that left them both breathless. Siddharth's tongue slid against hers, deepening the kiss, exploring her mouth with the same deliberate care he showed her body. He poured everything into it-his want, his need, his love-all of it raw and unfiltered.

Noor's body trembled beneath him, her hands moving restlessly over his back, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. Siddharth didn't hold back, his hand still working between them, rubbing her sensitive spot in smooth, practiced movements that made her moan against his mouth.

Their breaths mingled, hot and ragged, as they moved together, building and cresting toward the peak of their desire. Siddharth's hips moved faster, deeper, his eyes locked on hers, watching every expression of pleasure that flashed across her face.

Noor's body began to tighten, her muscles clenching around him as her breath came in short, desperate gasps. Siddharth kept his rhythm steady, his hand never faltering, drawing her closer and closer until she shattered beneath him, her back arching, her hands clawing at his back as she cried out his name.

But he didn't stop. Even as her body trembled with the aftershocks of her climax, Siddharth kept moving inside her, slow and deep, prolonging her pleasure. His eyes darkened with intensity, his gaze never leaving her flushed face. He leaned down, kissing her deeply, his tongue sweeping against hers as if tasting her pleasure.

Only then did he let himself go, his hips pressing forward one last time as he found his own release, his body tensing and shuddering above her. His head fell forward, his forehead resting against hers as they both caught their breath, tangled together in the sheets, the afternoon light casting a warm glow over their entwined bodies.

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.Aditi ji sat quietly in the living room, the sunlight filtering in through the windows, casting a soft glow over the old, slightly faded photo albums laid out on the wooden table before her. Her fingers gently traced the edges of the photographs, pausing at familiar faces, lingering on memories preserved in frames. Some pictures were yellowed with age, corners slightly bent, but each held a story, a piece of the past that she treasured.

Beside her sat her younger son, Adarsh, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he flipped through the album. He would pause, smile at a silly pose or a memory captured mid-laughter, then turn the page with that same enthusiasm. His fingers stopped at a photograph of Aditi ji and her husband during a wedding function, both looking happy and content. "Aap toh bohot sundar lag rahi thi, Ma," he said with a smile. (You were looking very beautiful, Ma.)

Aditi ji smiled warmly, her hand gently brushing his hair. "Waqt sab badal deta hai, beta," she replied softly. (Time changes everything, my son.)

Adarsh continued turning the pages, his smile slowly fading as he noticed something odd. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head, flipping back a couple of pages as if searching for something. "Ma," he began, his voice curious but edged with confusion, "Bhai ke sath meri bachpan ki koi picture kyun nahi hai?" (Ma, why isn't there any picture of me with Bhai from childhood?)

Aditi ji's hand froze on the edge of a photograph. Her eyes flickered for just a moment, a shadow passing over her face before she composed herself. She turned to look at Adarsh, forcing a gentle smile. "Woh...shayad album mein daali nahi hogi," she murmured, voice slightly strained. (Maybe they were never put in the album.)

Adarsh, clearly not satisfied with the answer, kept flipping through the pages, his eyes scanning the faces, searching. "Dekha jaye toh Akriti ki bhi nahi hai," he said, a hint of suspicion in his tone. (Now that I think about it, Akriti's aren't there either.)

Aditi ji's smile faltered. Her hands moved to close the album, fingers pressing down on the brittle edges as if sealing away the memories. "Purani baatein hai beta, sab yaad nahi rehta," she said, her voice firmer this time, the edge of finality clear. (It's all old memories, son; not everything is remembered.)

But Adarsh was relentless, his hands still resting on the edges of the photographs. He looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Main serious hoon, Ma," he whispered, his tone more determined now. (I am serious, Ma.)

Aditi ji's hands trembled just a little, her eyes refusing to meet his. Adarsh, sensing the tension, flipped more pages, his movements more deliberate. His eyes scanned the images, and then he turned to her, confusion and something else-doubt?-clouding his gaze. "Yeh kaisi family pictures hain, Ma? Jahaan aapke aur Papa ki shaadi ki pictures hain, na mere aur Akriti ki bachpan ki koi tasveer hai, na Papa ki, na Veer Bhai ki, na Siddharth Bhai ki." He paused, flipping through more frantically now. "Aur toh aur, Veer Bhai ki to-" (What kind of family pictures are these, Ma? There are pictures of you and Papa's wedding, but there are no childhood pictures of me or Akriti, not even of Papa, or Veer Bhai, or Siddharth Bhai. And not just that, Veer Bhai's...)

Aditi ji's breath hitched, her fingers trembling as they rested on the album's edges. Her eyes darted to the door, as if expecting someone to walk in, as if fearing the ghosts of the past would appear if summoned by his questions.

"Beta, bataya toh tha ki haveli mein aag lag gayi thi. Saari tasveerin jal gayi thi," she finally whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes fixed on the ground. (Son, I told you, didn't I? There was a fire at the mansion. All the pictures were burned.)

But Adarsh wasn't convinced. He looked up at her, the doubt clear on his face. His fingers moved again, flipping through the photographs faster now, almost desperately. "Ma, Bhai ke pehle birthday ki pictures toh hain. Par usme aap kahan hain? Meri pehli birthday ki pictures mein Bhai kahan hain?" (Ma, there are pictures of Bhai's first birthday, but where are you in them? In my first birthday pictures, where is Bhai?)

Aditi ji's face paled, her breathing becoming shallow as the past she had tried so hard to bury began clawing its way back up to the surface. She reached out suddenly, her movements sharp, snatching the album from his hands and snapping it shut. "Pehle mere Siddharth ki tarah toh ban phir pictures sath mein khojna," she snapped, her voice harsher than she intended, eyes flashing with something raw and unspoken. (First, become like my Siddharth, then search for pictures with him.)

Adarsh flinched, the sting of her words evident. He swallowed and got up, leaving Aditi ji alone in the room, clutching the album to her chest. Her eyes drifted back to the album, her hands shaking as she ran her fingers over its spine, her mind wandering back to memories she had tried so desperatly to lock away.

The shadows of the past lingered, stretching out across the floor as if reminding her that some stories were never meant to be uncovered, and some truths were better left in the dark.
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